"What you're telling me makes me twice as grateful that I got you away from London when I did—before Summerson could hurt you."
"Do you really believe he would?"
"He's a murderer, Samantha. A murderer, a thief, and an immoral animal. If he had the slightest glimmer of a notion that you were suspicious of him, he wouldn't hesitate to silence you, permanently. But that's never going to happen." Rein's brows darted together. "Why would Summerson be meeting Hartley at dawn?"
"Oh, Rem, no." Following Rem's line of thought, Sammy shook her head emphatically. "Lord Hartley is the kindest, most gentle man I've ever known. He and my father fox-hunted together, made their fortunes together, spent holidays together. He would never commit the kind of crimes you're suggesting."
"Every man is capable of committing crimes if pushed far enough, imp. True, some motives are uglier than others. But the fact remains that, until I seize every man involved in this conspiracy, no one is above suspicion."
Sammy stared at Rem for a long moment. "I can see now why the Admiralty depends upon you. You do battle with a clear head and a brilliant, logical mind."
"If you're implying that I'm brutally unfeeling, you're right," Rem replied grimly. "But remember, imp, until you came into my life, emotions were unneeded. I'm firmly convinced I was heartless."
"You're so wrong." Sammy stroked his jaw. "That's not what I meant at all. To the contrary, I'm impressed by your ability to remain unbiased. As for being heartless, your heart is—has always been—extraordinary. The problem was, it belonged to the world, leaving no part of it for yourself. Now, it belongs to me. But fear not, my lord, I intend to take excellent care of it... forever."
Reverently, Rem pressed Sammy's palms to his lips, first one, then the other. "I'm relieved to learn that my heart is in the finest, most loving of hands."
Sammy swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Now ... tell me everything. We must resolve this case in record time so I can begin ministering to your poor, neglected heart."
"We
are not going to resolve anything, imp. I am." "I was just speaking figuratively," Sammy amended at once. "What is the reason for Stephen's and Mr. Summerson's hateful scheme? Who is the mysterious privateer, and how do you plan to expose him? How many others do you suspect are involved, and what is Drake doing to assist you in your search?"
"Another bevy of questions. I should be accustomed to them by now, shouldn't I?" Rem teased tenderly. Wrapping Sammy's hands tightly in his, he told her everything: beginning with the insurance money Anders and Summerson would procure from their fictional losses, progressing to Captain Towers and the conversation he'd overheard about the conspirators' mysterious partner, and culminating with the odious fact that, not only was Towers's ship annihilated, but his men sold as slaves, earning additional profits for Summerson and his accomplices.
"You and Boyd have no idea who this horrid pirate is?" Sammy asked, white-faced.
"I have a detailed description of him. Now he must be unearthed ... which is where your brother comes in." Seeing Sammy's puzzled look, Rem continued. "Drake is giving me the access I need to the docks. As of tomorrow night. I'll be assuming the role of Barrett Shipping's night watchman, strolling the docks from Barrett to Anders Shipping and back. The moment t
hat privateer shows his face, I'll grab him. At which point I'll convince the bastard to summon his cohorts. All of them. That should nicely resolve the question of how many men are involved, and force them all to surface. The rest should be easy."
"Easy? To confront a roomful of dangerous—probably armed—men? Rem ..."
"I won't be alone. Boyd will be there to back me up, along, with several other reliable men—men I've worked with for years. I'll be safe, imp." He smiled. "And then I'll be yours."
"All these years I've been a child and you've been putting your life on the line for England," Sammy whispered incredulously, the full impact of Rem's position hitting home. "No wonder you found me so foolishly amusing."
"You, my darling, are my savior, my heart and my future ... all of which are far from foolish. If you had any idea how much I need you, you would understand how desperate I am to keep you safe." Rem framed her face between his palms. "Promise me you'll do as I asked. Let me take the risks. I'll have Boyd bring you word of my progress each time he visits Cynthia. And the moment I've apprehended the culprits, I'll return to Allonshire ... and you. Promise me."
Sammy nodded. "I promise. I'll do just what I vowed." Silently, she recalled that vow: to share her worries with Rem and allow him to take the risks.
Unless the danger threatened him.
At which point, she would act.
21
The watchman's stance was infinitely relaxed.
His gaze, however, was that of a tiger stalking its prey.
Wary, acute, it enveloped the entire wharf, end to end, absorbing all that was visible, plus a good deal of that which was concealed.
Three days into his vigil, Rem had witnessed more two-bit crimes than he cared to recall: wharf rats passing stolen goods from hand to hand, pickpockets slithering up and down the docks counting their night's spoils, smugglers carrying bags of tobacco from anchored ships. More than once Rem had found himself lunging forward to seize them, and had to forcibly exert self-restraint, reminding himself that he was a mere night watchman, not a Bow Street runner.
And still there was no sign of the privateer.
Where the hell was the bastard? True, he might already have returned to sea, but Rem's instincts said not. He knew the minds of these sea wolves. Having just returned, jubilant, from his capture of the Bountiful, and with no notion that Captain Towers was alive and restored to England, the pirate would doubtlessly be enjoying the funds Summerson had already paid him, while plotting to collect more before leaving English soil on his next pillage.