Page 147 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
“Boston.”
“Together?”
“We met the Parkers by happy accident aboard the Crescent Rose, and our wives became instant friends.” Narrowing his eyes, he tamped down the urge to strike Wallace, angered by the impropriety implied, and spoke in a low tone.
“These ladies suffered through a horrific ordeal, one that most men wouldn’t, and didn’t, survive. And now we are the only connection Mrs. Parker has in a foreign country. You deign to besmirch her name?”
“No,” Wallace replied, reddening. “Thank you for your assistance today. I won’t bother you the rest of the evening.”
Sebastian returned to his cabin to find both Alana and Mrs. Parker asleep on the bed and stuffed full on the meal that had been delivered while he was on deck. Grabbing a plate, he loaded it with food, then headed to Mrs. Parker’s cabin. After eating, he laid down with a groan, his eyes closing, and fell into a deep sleep.
The ship’s doctor was quite pleased with the new sleeping arrangement and argued for it to remain that way until the ship docked. Sebastian protested until the doctor pointed out that Alana’s injuries were just as serious as his.
He acquiesced.
“I don’t like your cabin,” he said the next morning when Mrs. Parker opened the door to his old room.
“That’s why I switched.” Mrs. Parker smiled and gestured for him to enter.
“When we arrive in Boston, I shall book immediate passage for us back to Wiltshire,” he said, addressing Alana as he entered the room.
“My brothers haven’t sent for me yet,” she replied, walking toward him as he pulled out one of the wooden chairs surrounding a small table and sat. “My uncle’s killer could still be hunting us.”
“Then I propose we remain on the coast with Patrick until we’re certain the criminal is captured,” Sebastian replied, gesturing to his right.
“I would be less concerned if we’d received a letter.” She moved to sit beside him, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her onto his lap.
“How will you know if your brother sent a missive?” Mrs. Parker asked, joining them at the table.
Sebastian glanced over. “I keep an address in Boston. It’s difficult to receive letters aboard a ship, and there’s no post available on Ceresus.”
Alana drew his face toward her. “You should purchase a ticket for Louisa as well.”
He frowned. “Is she returning to Wiltshire with us?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Parker replied, adding a sad shake of her head. “Boston was Hugh’s decision. I preferred to remain near my sister. However, I’m not certain I’m comfortable sailing again so soon after our ordeal.”
“Do not fear.” Alana reached across the table and took Mrs. Parker’s hand, squeezing it. “This time we have something that we didn’t have before.”
“What is that?” Mrs. Parker asked, her confusion evident.
“Our very own pirate.”
They all laughed.
When they landed in Boston the next morning, Sebastian headed down the docks seeking passage for three to Wiltshire while Alana and Mrs. Parker ventured through the city to the postal office. He didn’t expect them to return with a letter, let alone two.
“Anything from Patrick?”
“Yes,” Alana replied, thrusting out the missive. “He addressed the missive to Charles Ashmore.”
“And how did you convince them to hand over my letter?”
“I showed them my wedding ring.” She held up her hand, flashing the gold band he’d given her before shoving her through the roof of his cabin.
Chuckling, Sebastian grabbed the missive and ripped the seal open. His eyes raced over the words.
“They know your ship was attacked by pirates, and Patrick’s asked me to find out what happened.”
