Prince of Ravenscar (Sherbrooke Brides 11)

Julian, still on the lookout for Manners, realized he was st

riding a good distance in front of their group, eyeing every man he saw. He slowed his step and placed his mother’s hand on one arm and Sophie’s on the other. His mother was speaking of the fine weather and her new bonnet. Sophie, however, was quiet. Sophie was never quiet, she was always laughing, talking, always doing something. He leaned close when his mother stopped to look into a shop window. “What is this? You’re mute as a tree. Did Leah blight you that badly?”

“What? Oh, yes, I suppose she did. Leah is a master blighter. She is going to marry Richard Langworth, Julian, and that really makes me wonder what he could possibly be up to.”

It made him wonder as well. Their attention was diverted by a young boy who came running up to Julian, saying he “knowed the name of the sot wot set the fire on the Blue Star.”

The sod turned out to be Orvald Manners, but he was gone.

46

That evening’s dinner was served in the small private dining room, where lavish gold curtains were drawn over the windows. Mr. Knatter, owner of the Plymouth Heights Inn, served them Mrs. Knatter’s special deviled whitebait. “The secret be in the hot oil, my missus tells me; it’s gots to be hot enough to burn the hair off a man’s tongue,” he whispered to her grace. “And here be the Norfolk dumplings; ’tis the quality of the castor sugar, that’s the key, says my missus.”

Sophie was quiet again. Julian imagined she was thinking about all the trouble, so why not share it? He ordered a bottle of Mr. Knatter’s best champagne.

That perked her right up.

“Now, Sophie,” he said, toasting his champagne glass toward her, “tell us more about Leah and Richard’s upcoming nuptials.”

That drew everyone’s attention.

“Well, as I said, Roxanne told her Richard had attached her purposefully to get to you. Leah told Roxanne and me we were idiots, that there was simply no way Richard could have even known about our connection to you. That’s when she hurled her bolt—and announced she was going to marry him.”

Julian said, “There isn’t really much of a connection, though I myself have wondered. But despite all the complexity involved, I know it is something Richard would do. Even as a boy, Richard enjoyed making things complicated, enjoyed intrigue, the game, so to speak.” He sighed. “Once Richard made up his mind about something, nothing could change it, even a stone tablet with God’s commandments on it. He hasn’t changed.”

Sophie sipped her champagne. “It is helpful to understand your enemy. Come, Julian, don’t shake your head. Richard hired that Orvald Manners to burn your ship, after, of course, he was safely on land. Richard himself tried to kill you in London. He is no longer your boyhood friend; he hasn’t been since Lily’s death. Of course he planned the meeting with Leah, and that means this Orvald Manners has to be somewhere nearby. Richard wouldn’t hire him, then let him walk away after he failed.”

Sophie turned to Corinne. “Your grace, did you happen to mention to Baron Purley that you wished Julian and me to wed?”

His mother nodded. “I believe I did indeed express to Rupert my devout desire for the two of you to marry.” She sighed. “Evidently, he told his son. It would seem Richard has great confidence in my power over you, Julian, to execute such an involved plan. I am sorry if it led to Leah and Richard both being under Ravenscar’s roof. Why do you think they came?”

Devlin said, “To learn more about what we were doing, what we were thinking and planning.”

This led to more questions and possibilities until Sophie announced, “Julian, I wish you would select a bonnet for me. I think I should like to have a pair of geese perched on the crown. What do you think?”

“Red roses,” Julian said, “a lovely line of them across the crown.”

“Hmmm,” said her grace.

After Julian and Devlin escorted the ladies to their bedchambers, they returned to the taproom to settle in with brandy. The air was heavy and sweet, the conversations around them low and easy.

Devlin said, “Have you made arrangements for a final shipment to the cave?”

Julian nodded. “Yes, the night of the twenty-fourth, there will be no moon. As for storms, it is late spring, so perhaps we will be lucky.”

“It makes no sense for us to return to London. I am not even tempted to settle into London intrigue again. I am quite enjoying myself in the wilds of Cornwall.”

“Your mistresses will languish, Devlin, and perhaps even give up on you, and White’s is surely bereft without your presence.”

“I do enjoy the Season, always have. It is odd of me, isn’t it? Well, the bonnet you selected for your mother becomes her very nicely. I had no idea my uncle had such excellent taste in bonnets.”

“A man must be accomplished at many things,” Julian said, and lifted his brandy snifter in a toast to Devlin’s.

“I see you are worried. Is it about Sophie playing smuggler? Come, Julian, you know there won’t be any problems.”

“I’m worried about Orvald Manners. I must find him, Devlin. He’s the only one who can point to Richard. As I told you, the lad who hunted me down took me right to where Manners was staying, only he was gone. Where to, I wonder?”

“Probably to see Richard and report his failure. At least no one will get aboard the Blue Star now. Captain Cleaves had two men on duty all night.”