“Yes…”
Suddenly swamped by the old grief, Kate began to cry softly, which made little sense. How could she hurt so badly when it had been many years since the tragedy?
In response, Deverill pulled her close, wrapping an arm around her and pressing her head into his shoulder, as if to absorb her pain. Desperately wanting the solace he offered, Kate leaned into him and let the tears come.
Even after her sobs lessened, he continued holding her. She stood there pliantly—until she felt the light pressure of his fingers on her cheek and heard his sympathetic voice. “I can only imagine the sorrow you suffered, losing both parents you loved.”
Feeling the sharp ache again, Kate blindly lifted her face and locked her mouth on his. Her kiss must have caught him off guard for he tensed. When she wrapped her arms tightly about his neck and tried to intensify their kiss, Deverill stopped her and pulled back.
“This isn’t the time or the place, sweetheart,” he said gently.
Kate stared up at him. There was something unbearably intimate in his dark gaze, as if he could see past all her defenses.
Suddenly she felt oddly vulnerable and exposed and embarrassed by her lapse. As she searched in her reticule for a handkerchief, she forced a watery laugh, trying to make light of his rejection. “I know. This is getting to be a burdensome habit—you consoling me when I act like a weakling.”
The slight scoffing sound he made held only a little humor. “I’m well aware your weakness is only temporary, but I won’t take advantage of it again as I did last night.”
“You didn’t take advantage. I offered myself to you.”
His jaw flexed, as if he was about to contradict her, but he settled for saying brusquely, “When you want me for more than comfort, pray let me know.”
She thought she understood his unspoken message. He wanted her, perhaps even badly, but not when she was so emotionally fragile and vulnerable. She needed to be willing and eager and fully in control of her faculties, not driven by fear or sorrow.
“Meanwhile,” Deverill continued, “we still have a great deal of work to do this afternoon. At the moment, we should return to the church and speak with Father Ramonde.”
“Yes.” Chastened, Kate swallowed and used the handkerchief to dry her eyes. She should be glad Deverill had given her direction, stability, focus. And she resolved to be stronger in the future. A man like him most certainly wouldn’t want a sniveling watering pot for his bride. If she hoped to win his love, this was not the way to go about it, and she very much wanted to be the kind of woman he could love.
As they retraced their path to the church, however, all thoughts of love and romance fled Kate’s thoughts, for Deverill was all business when he outlined his intentions. “We need to discuss delivery of the headstone you had commissioned. And more pressing, I want advance information about Louvel and advice on approaching him. I don’t want to give him any warning about our arrival.”
Kate nodded in agreement. Questioning Father Ramonde was more prudent than making inquiries about town, since a priest would be less inclined to be in league with pirates and could better be trusted to keep confidences.
They met with the priest, who provided answers to many of their questions.
“Oui, Capitaine Jean Louvel is headquartered nearby in St. Georges, several miles south of Royan. But perhaps it is unwise to walk into a pirates’ den, given Louvel’s unsavory reputation?”
When Deverill acknowledged his concern, the priest gave specific directions.
Kate was also able to question him about a subject more dear to her. “Might there be a way for me to recover the locket my mother wore?”
“Je ne sais pas—it has been such a long time. I believe it was sold to pay the physician’s cost to care for your mother’s injuries. I shall make inquiries.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully.
In all likelihood the crest on the locket belonged to the Marquesses of Beaufort and not some other noble family, and finding it would prove beyond any doubt that her mother was indeed buried there in the pauper’s grave. Yet Kate knew in her heart that their suppositions weren’t wrong.
Shortly afterward, they took their leave. Once in the carriage, she wondered why Deverill turned the horses back the way they had come rather than toward St. Georges. “We are returning to Royan?”
“Temporarily. In addition to the element of surprise, I want an armed escort when I confront Louvel. I arranged with Halsey to provide several of his best men who are skilled in hand-to-hand combat.”
Kate frowned. “Do you expect violence from Louvel?”
“No, but it would be unwise to underestimate him. Our last encounter was less than amicable.”
“What happened?”
“He believed, falsely, that I had stolen the affections of his lover.”
Her eyebrow shot up. “Your conflict was over a woman?”