Page 63 of Ghost Walk
“No, of course not. That’s not the point.”
“Good. One less man I have to kill.” He nodded like it wasexactlythe point and now it was all settled. “I’m trying to be a gentleman and do this properly for you. So stop making it difficult and fetch your father out here.”
“Her father’s not exactly born yet.” Loyal put in with a sigh. “Which isn’t to say that he isn’t also long dead. Cousin Recompense is presently in the Crusades and I know for a fact he won’t be born until 1941.” He made a tsk sound. “The Good Lord only knows when her parents might be.”
Grace and Jamie ignored him.
“I’ve seen you being a gentleman, Jamie Riordan.” She informed him with a sniff. “This isnotit.”
“This is metryingto be a gentleman. It goes against my nature, but I’m not picking you up and carrying you out of here on my shoulder, so I deserve some credit for my restraint.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Since I’m a wee bit perturbed that you left meagain, though, I donea suggest you push me, lass.”
Yep. She’d definitely hurt his feelings. “I’m sorry you’re upset, but I didn’t really leave you. You need to trust me on this, because I’m doing it foryou.” She gave an earnest nod. “I’m right in the middle of something very important for your future.”
“So were we!”
The man was impossible sometimes. “I told you, I’m not sleeping with you today!” Grace threw up her hands. “This mission is life and death, okay? You’re just going to have to believe that and let me work.”
“Wish the damn future-folks would start staying at an inn.” Loyal said to no one in particular. “Every damn time one of them comes to visit, it just gets weirder. And louder.”
Grace resisted the urge to punch her sort-of-grandfather. It was a miracle she was holding it together half as well as she was and he was seriously not helping. “You shut up. …Actually no. You need to keep talking.” Every crazy thing that could happen to a person had happened to her recently and Jamie wasnotgoing to distract her now with his stunning aliveness. She turned back at Loyal, determined to stay focused. “Ignore Jamie and let’s get back to business. Do you know anyone with the initials H.C.?”
“No.” Loyal paused. “Well, there’s Hunnicutt, I suppose.”
Her eyes widened. “EdwardHunnicutt?”
“Sure.” Loyal nodded. “Some of the boys at The Raven call him H.C. Hunni-Cutt.”
Grace stared at him for a beat. “Are you kidding me?” Her head whipped around, her gaze narrowing in Jamie’s direction. “H.C. isEdward frigging Hunnicuttand you never bothered to mention it?!”
“Why the hell would I mention that? I donea even think Iknewit. Who cares about Ned Hunnicutt enough to recall his blasted nickname?” Jamie shook his head in annoyance. “Jackass makes bloody terrible maps and waters down his ale.”
“Well, he was apparently also having an affair with Lucinda!”
Jamie’s eyebrows soared. “Ned killed Lucinda?” He actually looked perversely pleased by that news. “You know, I’ve never liked that wanker. It will give me great fucking pleasure to run him through with a sword.”
“Hold on.” Grace held up her palms before he went off to challenge Ned to a duel or something. Pirates weren’t known for their thoughtful and measured responses. “We don’t know heactuallydid it. I told you, I’m still investigating. He’s just our new person of interest.”
“So I’ll stab him, just to be sure, andthenyou can investigate. It’ll be far safer for you.”
“Stop helping.” Grace ordered and turned back to Loyal. “Cast the bad intentions spell for Anabel.” She reiterated and headed for the door.
“Are you going to pay for this magic?” He called. “Because it seems like time travelers never pay.” There was a pause. “Actually, it seems likeno oneever pays.”
Grace scoffed at that very typical Rivera complaint. Money baffled all of them, which is why they never had any. “I’ll give you an investment tip, the next time I visit. Cross my heart.”
“Thenexttime you visit? What century will that be?”
Grace pretended not to hear that. “Jamie, if you’re coming with me, you’d better behave. I mean it.”
He made an aggravated sound and fell into step beside her. “No version of me hasevermistaken you for timid, love.”
She shot him a sideways look as they stepped out onto the (smelly) street. “Remind yourself you said that in about two hundred and thirtyish years. It’ll be good for a laugh.”
“Two hundred and thirtyyears? How the hell am I still alive two hundred and thirty years from now?”
“You’re not.”
“Then how am I ‘sort of’ your lover?” His volume had several people looking their way.
