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London, England
“Please come,” Beryl wrote to Eleanor Blackwood. “Eleven o’clock at our townhouse on Wednesday.”
She’d only been back in London for a few days, but the necklace’s presence in her bedroom weighed heavily on her. Over tea, she would discuss it with Eleanor.
Luckily, her father had so much business in Town, he had no intention of dragging his daughter back to their country estate. Instead, her mother and siblings had all come to London for the happy reunion.
She hadn’t even seen her fiancé yet and wondered at her own lack of pressing need to do so. Instead, she’d written Arthur a letter, telling him of her return. Perhaps he was no longer in London or had given up on their engagement sometime during the course of her travels.
Why did that possibility cause her absolutely no concern at all?
As for her family, the Angsleys had quickly grown used to the return of father and daughter into their midst. Her mother was happy to go on the social rounds, taking Beryl with her, and her young siblings were delighted to bicker and torment her as usual. It was heaven. She didn’t think she would ever want to leave Britain again.
Maybe for a tour of the continent, but she had no desire for another long sea voyage or any possible encounter with pirates.
No matter how handsome.
And kissable.
She sighed, feeling restless whenever she thought of Captain Caruthers — or Lord Corsair, as she recalled his first mate calling him before she left his cabin for the last time. In truth, he wasn’t really a lord of the realm at all, not a peer. Simply the son of a baronet, and not even a hereditary title at that.
But he had dash-fire to spare.
Beryl decided against mentioning to her father that the captain was the twin brother of the man who’d nearly killed their family member, John Angsley, her father’s only nephew and Beryl’s beloved cousin. She didn’t think it would make a difference, and she saw no reason to bring up the tragic matter. In any case, keeping his word, her father penned a letter to the queen recounting the tale Beryl had told him of her rescue.
Of course, she didn’t mention the captain’s wonderful kisses or how her heart thumped and her body warmed whenever he was close to her.
She sighed again. In a week, she was going to her first ball in a year. She wrote to Arthur telling him of her intent and, within hours, received a return missive. He would meet her there for their grand reunion. She could only hope he had developed some of the magnetism of Philip Carruthers.
***
THE ENTIRE VOYAGE BACK to the British Isles, the Robert raced like the devil himself was in their wake. And for all Philip knew, he was. No one had ever seen a Chinese pirate fleet outside of the Indian Ocean, but it didn’t mean Chui-A-poo wasn’t going to come after the necklace that had slipped through his fingers.
Unlikely, though.
And it had slipped through Philip’s fingers, too. But at least he knew the minx who had it.
As they sailed into the English Channel, he gave a nod and a small salute to the Cornish coastline. For if Rufus were obsessively proud of his pirate ancestor, Philip, whose Carruthers lineage was also Scottish a few generations prior, was equally proud of his mother’s people, Cornish through and through.
Then they passed Plymouth, where Beryl’s Royal Naval ship would have docked in the heart of the navy’s stronghold. The Wellesley couldn’t have been far ahead of the Robert. Even after delaying for repairs, they’d run at nearly eighteen knots for much of the voyage, where the warship couldn’t have done more than eight. Then she and her father and the other diplomats would have travelled over land to London.
And that’s where Philip would find her. Beryl had asked him if he were actually a pirate. If he was, then he wasn’t a particularly good one. He could only imagine the disdain of Rufus’s favorite pirate, John Gow, at Philip being bested by a slip of an English lass.
Tricked out of his own treasure!
When the Robert finally sailed up the Thames to St. Katharine Docks, his men cheered their return home despite the increasing aroma emanating from the brown river as they approached London.
Philip burned to jump ship and race into the fancy section of London where the Angsleys undoubtedly had a townhouse, probably in Mayfair. Ready to beat down her door and demand his stolen prize, he counseled himself to have patience, to bide his time.
First, he had to greet his own family, then he had to contact the families of the deceased, and then he had to make a report to his queen.
“Your humble servant has discharged his duty and found the necklace. And lost the necklace, Your Majesty. However, it is here on English soil. I merely have to find it.”
Yes, that would go over well.
He decided he would wait on the report until he had the duchess’s jewelry back in hand. Besides, without it, he wouldn’t receive the bounty and thus could not pay his men. Many of his crew would come back to the ship daily until their promised wages were delivered.
His parents were glad to see he’d survived. That was the extent of it. It seemed after Robert’s untimely and shocking demise, they’d decided to protect their own hearts by lavishing their love upon the two younger children who had no resemblance — and thus, no reminder — to their lost son.
Though twins, Robert was the first born, and all praise and hopes and dreams had been placed squarely on his shoulders. Especially after Philip took twice as long to learn to read, then set fire to his grammar school and got into fisticuffs at St. Paul’s boarding school on more than one occasion.
His parents had practically considered him a black sheep. Not a pleasant pronouncement from a family making their living from the finest wool. The offensive black wool, not being dyable, was worth less, and Philip had always felt himself to be the less worthy son.
Nevertheless, he had loved his twin, who’d never said a bad word about his shenanigans. In Robert’s absence, his younger brother and sister were absolutely delighted to see their brother’s return, more than making up for his parents’ coolness.
After distributing presents all around — tea, porcelain, silk, jade hair combs, and plum wine — the next day he visited with the families of the deceased. Recalling how he felt when the news of Robert’s death reached him, he could only offer his own futile condolences, sincerely thank the families for giving him their menfolk, and assure them compensation would be forthcoming.
And then he was free to find Miss Angsley.
***
NOT A DROP OF DASH-fire to be found, Beryl thought after ten minutes at the ball. Every man seemed pallid and dull, utterly uninteresting compared to—
She stopped herself. This simply wouldn’t do. She couldn’t start comparing ordinary London gentlemen to Captain Carruthers. If she did, she would find herself alone and unengaged.
Speaking of which, as if the ton knew this was their first meeting in nearly a year, people were stepping back, making way as Lord Arthur Wharton approached her.
Dear Arthur. Of a decent height so she didn’t have to crane her neck too high, with sandy brown hair and kind eyes, he approached her, a decidedly bland smile on his ordinary face.
Had he always been so pale, reminding her of blancmange, a dessert she detested?
Taking her hand, he bent over it, though not kissing her gloved knuckles.
“You have returned,” he said in his normal, calm voice, as if they’d only just seen each other a week earlier.
Beryl sighed at the passionless words from her husband-to-be, for whom she felt no more than for any of the other men in the room.
Drat!
Where was the frisson of excitement? Somewhere back on the high seas with Philip Carruthers — that was the truthful, albeit unhappy, answer.
It would simply take time for her to recall how much she cared for her viscount. The comparison with a ship’s captain and a rakish pirate to boot was unfair.
“You look well,” he continued, releasing her hand.
“As do you, my lord. It is good to see you.” She swallowed the lump in her throat, which indicated she was lying through her teeth.
“It must seem strange to be back in Britain and surrounded by your family and friends. I imagine you were lonely on your voyage.”
Actually, as the only female on board a naval vessel, she’d had to fight for a minute alone. However, every single moment with any of Her Majesty’s officers had also been spent with her father or maid as chaperone. In any case, although some were handsome or clever, they were all a little too upstanding.
Rather like Arthur. If they were alone at that moment, would he draw her to him and kiss her, would he tell her how much he’d longed her?
For, truly, not a single man who’d paid her any mind on board the Wellesley seemed the type who would grab her close and kiss her fiercely. Neither did her fiancé.
Of course, there was more to life than being kissed. And she certainly wanted to experience all of what followed a kiss.
So why was she having trouble picturing anyone except Captain Carruthers?
“What are you thinking?” Eleanor asked her, as they waited for the next waltz. “You have a moonish expression.”
“Moonish? Is that even a word?”
Eleanor laughed. “If not, it should be.”
With Eleanor’s next dance partner and Arthur chatting close by, Beryl’s best friend lowered her voice and whispered in her ear, “Contemplating Lord Corsair?”
Beryl almost wished she hadn’t told Eleanor everything, but that’s what best friends did. Unfortunately, they still hadn’t decided how to handle the issue of the necklace.
Eleanor’s suggestion, while prudent, seemed extremely time-consuming — to go to the offices of the London Times and read every issue printed in the past three years to find any mention of the theft of such an extraordinary piece of jewelry.
Her friend’s second suggestion was simply to give it to Beryl’s father and let him deal with it. Beryl had a feeling he would be angry to learn she’d kept it from him in the first place. Thus, since it didn’t seem to matter to anyone, she did nothing, biding her time.
One week slipped into the next, as one dance drifted into another, sometimes with her fiancé, sometimes with another partner.
At the next ball, Beryl stood momentarily by herself with Arthur somewhere in the room bending the ear of a member of parliament and her mother seated close, as always. Eleanor had only just deserted her side for the ladies retiring room, and Beryl was staring down at her saffron-colored gown.
With a start, it dawned on her it was the same color as Leo’s fur. She hoped the cat and his owner were faring well.
Not paying any attention to who reached for her dance card and scratched his name upon it, all at once, she heard his voice.
“Miss Angsley, I have penciled myself in for the next dance.”
Snapping her gaze up, she couldn’t help gasping, standing there like a gaping fish as Captain Carruthers released her dance card, letting it swing upon her wrist.
“Captain!” She thought of two things at once, his kisses and the necklace. Her hand fluttered up to the golden-yellow beryl pendant she wore that evening, as if the purloined jewels would suddenly appear around her neck.
Was he extraordinarily angry with her?
His glance followed the movement of her hand to her throat, and then returned to her eyes, undoubtedly guessing her thoughts.
“At your service, Miss Angsley.”
If he was at her service, why did his tone sound annoyed, even tight and unfriendly? She knew exactly why — he wanted his stolen jewels.
And all she wanted was to throw her arms around him.
“How can you be here?” she asked, feeling slow-witted. Wasn’t he on the Robert sailing upon some ocean somewhere?
“London is my home. True, this ball is beyond tedious, and I can think of places I would rather be.” While he spoke, he took up her hand and bowed over it, even going so far as to bring her gloved knuckles to his lips.
Sadly, she felt it to be entirely for show and without any true feeling.
Then he added, “However, I sought you out and was told you were here. Thus, here I am.”
Again, she gasped. He sought her out!
“You came to the ball seeking my company?”
As soon as she asked, she realized the absurdity of both her question and the emotions swirling within her head and heart. Obviously, he was there for the necklace, and that alone, and soon, he would bring it up.
His dark eyes narrowed. “We have time before our dance. Would you care for some lemonade or champagne?”
The captain was offering her a beverage at a ball in London. How utterly surreal!
Taking his measure, Beryl realized his hair was combed and trimmed, and his clothes were entirely fashionable.
Why did she feel a slight disappointment?
Did this real-life Philip Carruthers match the one in her memory? What if she’d imagined everything? The spark? The excitement of his kiss?
She’d held close the thrilling notion he would have done more with her — and to her — if not for the interruption during their second kiss when he’d been called on deck.
However, that was before he’d discovered her duplicity. She supposed it changed everything.
“Champagne, if you please,” she said, knowing she was still staring at him as if he were a zoo animal.
With her request, he disappeared into the throng.
Glancing around, she spied her mother’s rich sapphire-blue gown. Miss Angsley was deep in conversation with another mother. So, she hadn’t seen the captain.
And where was Eleanor? Beryl wanted someone to attest to the sighting of him, to tell her she wasn’t losing her sanity.
Thankfully, her best friend reappeared.
“They had French perfume in the retiring room. Smell,” Eleanor said, leaning in close so Beryl could sniff her neck.
“Heavenly. Listen, you’ll never believe it, but Captain Carruthers is here.”
“What!” Eleanor exclaimed loudly. “Where? Point him out this instant or I shall die of curiosity.”
For the first time since seeing the captain, Beryl relaxed with a laugh. Her friend was the same old Eleanor, enthusiastic and giddy. What’s more, she, herself, was safe in London. The general air of menace that lingered throughout her voyage had no power over her here. Thus, there was no reason to get worked up or to be anxious by the captain’s appearance.
Except for the fact she’d taken something of great value from him, and he wanted it back.
“He has gone to fetch me some champagne,” Beryl told Eleanor, who grinned.
“He has returned with your champagne,” Philip’s voice stated clearly behind them.
Beryl, along with Eleanor, turned slowly to face him. She felt her friend give a small start. After all, Philip Carruthers was divinely handsome, and he had come all the way from China to the Mallory’s ball to see her! Despite knowing he’d done so for the necklace, it still tickled her to have him cross the globe and attend a ball to get close to her.
What’s more, he had not one but two glasses of champagne, which he now held out to them.
“How did you...?” began Eleanor.
“I saw from across the room Miss Angsley had company,” he said, addressing Eleanor. “I would never leave a lady parched.”
Doubtful, thought Beryl. The extra champagne was probably for him. However, it was a nice gesture.
“Captain Carruthers, this is my dearest friend, Miss Blackwood.”
The captain took Eleanor’s free, gloved hand in his and nodded over it without kissing it. Beryl was watching intently, comparing the greeting he’d given her to that which he gave Eleanor.
She shook her head at her own ridiculousness. She wasn’t really going to feel a twinge of jealousy a mere few minutes after seeing the man, was she? After all, her fiancé was somewhere about, and she’d been held by various men at dances since her return to London. Whereas, she and Eleanor might be the first women the captain had touched since his journey.
Foolishly, she hoped that was the case.
“When did you arrive home, Captain?” she asked to clarify.
“Only two days hence.”
“And here you are,” Eleanor observed, darting Beryl a look, “already out and about at a ball. Do you like to dance so very much?”
Beryl heard the mirth in her friend’s voice. Obviously, Eleanor was urging him to admit what he liked so very much was, in fact, Beryl. She and Eleanor had discussed the kisses from every aspect and angle. Moreover, Eleanor, a romantic who had yet to experience a true love of her own, was convinced the captain had fallen madly for her friend.
Had Eleanor not considered how Beryl’s pilfering of the captain’s booty might have changed any warm feelings he’d had? Beryl was positive he had only the sparkling jewels on his mind that night.
The captain paused a moment, glanced over their heads at the ballroom, and then back at Eleanor.
“Miss Blackwood, I am not so keen a dancer in truth, especially after the time spent away from this type of affair, only to return and find it exactly unchanged.”
“I see,” Eleanor said. “While you have changed from your travels, London has not. Yet perhaps it didn’t need to. Perhaps the social aspect of London is precisely as it should be for the people who enjoy it.”
The captain offered his first small smile of the evening. “You are wise beyond your years, Miss Blackwood.”
Eleanor blushed prettily. “It is only that I agree up to a point. I, for one, find the Season and its events to be a necessary evil, though I prefer to be at my family’s country home.”
Beryl thought she might be witnessing the beginning of a tendre, half expecting the captain to agree on the merits of the country and whisk Eleanor away to a happy life among flowers and birds.
She was being small-minded and, again, feeling the green haze of jealousy — so utterly unlike her. She’d never given a thought as to whether Arthur was keeping company with anyone else during her long time away.
“Since you wrote your name on my card,” Beryl interjected, “and our waltz is about to begin, may I inquire whether you wish to dance?”
“In fact, I do,” he said, taking the glass from her hands and putting it on a nearby table. “If you will excuse us, Miss Blackwood.”
After nodding to Eleanor, he led her onto the parquet floor.
“Balls are tedious, and you don’t particularly like to dance,” Beryl reminded him as they began to move in the formation of other dancers. “So why are we?”
“Dancing together, especially the waltz with no changing of partners, is a perfect way to speak privately without drawing attention.”
She’d been correct. “I see.”
“Let us make use of our very limited time, shall we? You stole something from me, and I want it back.”