Midnight Star (Star Quartet 2)

“Preserves! What an uncivilized, arrogant—”

He dipped his head down and kissed her pursed lips.

“I am not your property, your—”

He kissed her again.

There was a muffled guffaw from a fellow passenger. Chauncey jerked away, her face flaming.

“Have I the last word, do you think, sweetheart?”

“I don’t suppose there are any sharks in these waters?”

He threw back his head and laughed heartily.

“Weak,” he said, shaking his finger at her. “Very weak, but I should make allowances, shouldn’t I? You are but a woman, after all.”

18

Chauncey cocked one eye open and frowned at Mary, who was humming an Irish ballad off key, as chirpy as any bird.

“It’s awfully early for such high spirits,” Chauncey said on a wide yawn when Mary reached the end of her verse. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, realized she didn’t have a stitch on, and felt her face burn. Damn him, she cursed silently. Mary began singing again. “Have you been visiting the bottle, Mary? Your mood is just too nice.”

“My, my, aren’t you in a twitty mood,” Mary said, turning from the armoire to face her mistress. “Would you like a robe?”

“Of course I would!”

“It is rather chilly this morning. Just look at that rain! Coming down in sheets! You know, Miss Chauncey, you should ask that husband of yours to give you a nightgown before he leaves you in the morning.”

“Mary,” Chauncey said, gritting her teeth, “why are you trying to make me scream?”

“Lucas has told me quite a bit about Mr. Del,” Mary continued calmly as she assisted her mistress into a yellow velvet dressing gown. “He’s not a bad man, Miss Chauncey.”

Chauncey snapped fully awake, and stared incredulously at her maid. “I just don’t believe you! You’re ready to dismiss what he did to my father after living three weeks in his house? Oh yes, I know, he’s so bloody charming, isn’t he? Or is it Lucas’ charm?”

Mary felt her cheeks grow warm, but she was ready to give as good as she got, and said blandly, “It seems to me that you’re quite charmed with him too, particularly in bed.”

Chauncey chewed vigorously on her lower lip. “That,” she said bitterly, “is a weakness. It has nothing to do with anything.”

“It occurs to me, miss, that this weakness can quite rapidly result in a child.”

“Oh no! That is, I will take measures to ensure it doesn’t.” Perhaps tonight, she thought, wondering just what these measures would be. She closed her eyes a moment, remembering the previous night when they’d arrived back in San Francisco. More of her husband’s damned charm. She’d never seen such a wide smile on Lucas’ pirate face. And Lin, hovering about, chattering like a berserk parrot everything that had happened in their three-day absence. And Mary, smiling fondly, with that gleam in her eyes. To her surprise, her husband hadn’t initiated lovemaking with her after he’d stripped off her nightgown. He’d merely kissed her and held her until she’d fallen asleep. She could sense his preoccupation, but asked him no questions.

“By the way, Miss Chauncey, Mr. Del told us this morning what had happened and why you returned so quickly. He told Lucas not to let you out of his sight when he wasn’t with you. You will cooperate, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Chauncey said. “I’m not a complete fool.” She fell into brooding silence.

“Mr. Del asked me all about your aunt and uncle. He’s worried, Miss Chauncey. Lord, here I’d almost convinced myself that that accident in Plymouth was really just that.”

Chauncey’s head snapped up. “You didn’t tell him about Paul Montgomery, did you?”

“No, but I wanted to. I’m worried too, Miss Chauncey. This entire situation is cockeyed! Here you are trying to hurt Mr. Del, and someone else wants to hurt you, and Mr. Del could get himself killed trying to protect you.”

“Mary, listen to me, please. I’ve thought and thought, but I can’t think of anyone who would go to such lengths to do away with me. I know Paul Montgomery was somewhat disturbed that I didn’t allow him to handle my money, but that wouldn’t make him want to kill me, surely. Good grief, he was one of my father’s best friends.”

“Unless your aunt and uncle promised him some of your inheritance,” Mary said, cocking her head thoughtfully to one side.

“I’ve thought of that,” Chauncey said on a sigh. “In fact,” she added on a crooked grin, “I think I’ll write to them and tell them I’ve lost everything. Plead with them to let me come back to England and live with them.”