Page 69 of The Rogue's Last Scandal
Captain Llewellyn heaved a sigh. “Alas. My wife died this past year.”
She swallowed hard. So, Charley was right. The Captain might be seeking a wife. “My condolences, sir.”
“Thank you. We are both bereaved, you see, Grace.”
“Will you tell me what happened to my father?”
He looked around the small, spare chamber. “There truly is not much more to tell than what was in the report.”
Which she had not read. Charley apparently had, since he’d mentioned it.
“There was a pirate ship pacing us and heavy seas. A storm came up so viciously we could not maintain our formation. He was boarded and the mast came down, and I saw your father’s ship roll.”
“You did not fight? You did not take on survivors?”
“Yes, a few. They reported they saw the Captain struck down, fatally, I’m sorry to tell you. We did return to the area and found no one.”
“And the pirates?” Charley asked.
“Disappeared also. We’d spotted holes in their keel. That was in my report.” He sent Charley a glare and reached for her hand.
His was cold, clammy, the pressure firm. He tugged at her, ever so gently, and panic rose in her. She clutched Charley’s arm and pulled her hand free.
“Indeed.” Charley’s voice was cold. “We should like to know the before and after. In detail. Shall we visit your private parlor?”
The Captain blinked. “No.”
“No?”
“No. That is, not at present, Grace. It would not be proper to entertain you in my private chambers, and this man is not a suitable chaperon.”
His voice was kind, as it had been when she was ill, but he had fallen back on society’s insufferable rules. She didn’t want rules—she wanted the truth.
“I have a widowed sister living just outside London. Allow me to arrange rooms for you and send for her. We’ll obtain a proper gown for you and have a maid stay with you until she arrives.”
“Lord Kingsley—”
“I shall speak with him.” His face had become stern again. “I shall smooth over this disagreement you are having with your guardian. You will not have to marry Carvelle.”
The air around her crackled and she glanced up at Charley. She could read no emotion there. She prayed he would not announce their own engagement, else the Captain might go retrieve that cutlass from his chamber upstairs.
“Miss Kingsley will not be forced intoanymarriage,” Charley said.
“Of course not.” Llewellyn took her hand again. “Come along then, Grace.”
She tugged her hand, but this time he continued to grip it.
Fear rose in her. Panic. She choked in air and tugged harder.
Charley moved in front of her. “Miss Kingsley, what are your wishes? Will you return with me to Shaldon House, or stay here with the Captain?”
Captain Llewellyn’s mouth firmed. She had no doubt he was capable of killing Charley at that very moment. She could not allow that.
The thought calmed her. “My hand, Captain,” she said, and tugged it out of his grip.
She took a step back and dragged Charley with her. The two men faced off like bantam cocks each ready to strike. The captain had struck down many a man in his time. In the course of his duties, had Charley killed? It didn’t seem likely.
Captain Llewellyn stood blocking the room’s only door. Her vision fogged. Whatever she would find with Llewellyn, it would not truly be protection, nor would she be allowed to pursue her own will. She would be returned to Kingsley, or if not, imprisoned in a set of rooms here, without Reina. He had not thought to mention the child.
