Page 80 of The Moonstone Pirate
“And maybe not.” She cast him a worried glance.
“That’s right. It might end up being just me and Parrot. He’ll easily pick up their trail.”
“Oh, I do not like this at all. What is to stop these rebel agents from shooting you once they are done? If these are desperate, angry men, they might not care about the consequences of shooting an earl.”
“It won’t come to that. It is only the first shipment. They plan at least two.”
She pursed her lips.
“Imogen, they need my cave. I am useful to them until they receive their final shipment.”
“And what if this next shipment turns out to be the final one?”
“It isn’t, at least not according to the Irishman.”
“Why are you being so stubborn?”
“It is not a matter of stubbornness. This is what I do best, get a sense of my opponents and act accordingly. It is what made me a successful privateer.” He studied her face and groaned. “The last thing I need to worry about is you doing something foolish to rescue me.”
She stared up at him with her beautiful eyes that were so big and round. “I am not deliberately trying to put you or myself in danger.”
“You had better not.” Was he thinking too hard about this? Imogen’s assurance that she was not going to put herself in danger ought to have satisfied him.
But it did not.
“Just get those butterfly clips for your hair, Imogen. Do this for me. Let them be my gift to you.”
She looked up at him again, her expression sincerely pained. “You are only asking me to do this because you think you are going to die.”
“Not at all. I am not going to die.”
“Then what is the point of those butterfly clips?”
Chapter Thirteen
“You want meto have a butterfly as a remembrance of you,” Imogen insisted, getting overset. “You are worried that something will go wrong. Oh, Draco! Surely there is something more we can do to—”
“Absolutely not! Gad, do not give me that stubborn look again, and don’t you dare start crying.” He took both of her hands in his. “All I want is to make a gift of butterfly jewelry to you. A brooch or clips or a simple necklace. Nothing elaborate. That is all. Have I not wanted this all along? It has nothing to do with my upcoming meeting with the Irishman or the exchange at my caves.”
She regarded him warily.
He growled softly. “I would choose them myself, but people will talk and make too much of it. They won’t think twice if you and Deandra select gifts for yourselves.”
She shook her head. “It is such a pointless thing to ask of me, but all right. Deandra and I will stop by the jeweler’s before we head over to the tea shop this afternoon.”
He let out a breath. “Thank you.”
“What are your plans for the rest of the day, Draco?”
He shrugged. “Nothing firm. I’ll wander around a bit and then meet you at Mrs. Halsey’s tea shop.”
After dropping off Imogen and Deandra at the army hospital, he and Parrot went off on their own. In truth, he was feelingquite limited in the things he could do at the moment. There was work to be done on the various Woodley farms and estates, but he could not leave Moonstone Landing to attend to them. Nor could he ride to Portsmouth to inspect the repairs on theAthena. He could only trust his second-in-command, James Archer, to attend to the task. He had full faith in the man, but theAthenawas his vessel, and no one could possibly know her better than he did himself.
He knew it was probably too early to receive word back from his Bow Street runner in London about Lord and Lady Trewick, neither of whom had been crossed off his list of suspects in Driscoll’s murder, but he decided to stop by the Kestrel Inn on the chance something had arrived today.
He thought about Imogen’s desire to help him out on this assignment. Burness, Brennan, the dukes, and Constable Angel all stood ready to assist as well. He had given it considerable thought and always came to the same conclusion,—he had to work through this first leg of his assignment on his own. McTavish was as much on edge as he was, and the rebel agents would be scared as rabbits because they were so close to putting their plan into effect. “Shall we check for mail at the Kestrel Inn and then go home, Parrot? It is hours yet before we are due at the tea shop.”
The dog merely quirked his head in that odd, parrotlike way, and then plunked himself down in the shade of a tree.
