Page 77 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
“The men would like to know if you discovered the gold in Dubois’ clothing.”
“I didn’t. Keep searching.” Cedric moved to close the door.
“Captain,” Mr. Evans blocked the door with his foot, “could your judgment regarding your cabin boy be affected by your affection for him?”
“Be very careful what you are suggesting, Mr. Evans.”
“Perhaps I misheard.”
“You did.”
“To ease the crew’s minds, I demand the right to search him.” Mr. Evans pushed against the door, but Cedric didn’t take a step backward.
“I don’t like repeating myself. The missing items are not in Dubois’ possession.” Cedric’s fist snapped out, striking Mr. Evans’ face. A soft grunt escaped from the man as he staggered into the corridor.
“My apologies, Captain.” Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Mr. Evans pressed the filthy cloth to his bleeding nose. “But we’ve searched the whole ship, including Mr. Hayward’s and Mr. Johnson’s cabins, and the jewelry hasn’t been located. It can’t be anywhere else but inside this room.”
“And where do you suspect Mr. Dubois would hide his ill-gotten bounty?”
“Did you search his trunk?”
Cedric paused, a retort trapped in his throat. He hadn’t looked inside the trunk; he’d become distracted by the revelation that she was a woman.
Leaning back, he glanced at Alana, who’d scrambled from the bed, grabbed her clothing, and donned the garments during the brief conversation he’d had with Mr. Evans. Cedric raised both eyebrows, questioning, and she shook her head in return.
Of course, the items weren’t in her trunk. She’d be foolish to steal from the crew, and from him, then store the items in the very room where she was being held captive. Besides, what purpose would they serve her?
Moving aside, Cedric gestured for Mr. Evans to enter the cabin.
Marching directly to her trunk, Mr. Evans knelt and flipped the lid open. On top of the chemises and sack of hair rested several pieces of jewelry sparkling in the dim afternoon sunlight, including the missing bracelet and ring, and beside the pile, Cedric’s satchel.
Wordlessly, he lifted the sack, then strode to the desk and upended the bag, dumping the contents onto the table. Coins scattered across the surface, painting the walls with glittering gold radiance. Selecting one coin, he placed it between his teeth, biting gently. His cold eyes rose to Alana.
“Take Dubois to the brig to await trial for theft.”
Mr. Evans nodded and gleefully wrapped his grimy fingers around Mrs. Dubois’ arm. Yanking her toward the door, he pulled her through the opening and into the corridor.
She grabbed onto the door frame, pulling against Mr. Evans’ iron grip, her bare feet slipping on the floorboards, and leaned into the room, her beseeching gaze seeking Cedric.
“Please, Ced—Captain Shaw. You have to believe me. I didn’t take anything.”
“I believe my eyes, and my gold was found among your possessions. For your sake, I hope your death is a quick one.”
He turned his back on her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ALANA
Mr. Evans ripped her from the doorway, dragging her through the corridor, his fingers wound through her short hair.
She screamed, twisting in his grip, and clawed at him, dragging a long scratch down his forearm. Jerking his arm back, Mr. Evans struck her across the face with a curse word.
Pain exploding in her cheek, she collapsed on the floor, black spots dancing in front of her eyes. Shrieking in agony, she rolled onto her side and lifted her head as Captain Shaw shut the door to his cabin.
He never looked at her.
With a smirk, Mr. Evans kicked Alana in the ribs, and a sickening crunch echoed in her ears. Howling, she curled into a tiny ball, tears streaming down her face, and hugged her legs to her chest.
