“I was concerned you would not receive my messages, Sophia,” Whitfield said as he poured them both wine. He looked much as he had the last time she saw him, an aging roué who lived within, but on the fringes of Society. His lustrous head of white hair and polished demeanor made him a desirable escort for widows, but his younger followers were dropping away for other companions as his reputation spread like the stale air of a gambling parlor filled with too many nights of bad liquor and lost hopes.
Sophia did not allow herself to believe Whitfield had lost any of his cunning, for too many men—her father and Jack Burrell among them—had been taken in by the friendly air of the man in front of her.
“You have changed, Sophia,” Whitfield continued, looking at her intently. “But you still look delightful, very much une jeune fille.”
“We do not have time for idle chat. I managed to get away from Captain Burrell, but I will not push my luck.” She ignored the wine in front of her and kept her eyes on Whitfield.
“Luck…” mused Whitfield. “It is amazing how much of a force luck has played in our lives, Sophia, but let us talk now about something not dependent upon luck, but upon skill and cunning. Finding Garvey’s Gold.”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice. Their table had no one seated nearby, and she suspected the innkeeper was paid well to allow them to keep their business private. She relaxed a fraction, but said nothing to this opening sally.
“I know you have the map, Sophia. What I have is incomplete. I do not know what you are doing with Jack Burrell, but I will reward you handsomely for your map.”
“No,” Sophia said simply.
This answer didn’t anger the man across from her, but seemed to have the opposite effect. His eyes gleamed with a hint of respect.
“I might have suspected you would have your own game underway, my dear. You always were a downy one. Why are you allied with Captain Burrell?”
Sophia picked up the wine in front of her, sniffed it, then set it back down.
“Jack Burrell believes he is married to me. You do not need to know the circumstances, but as long as he believes I am his wife, it gives me an advantage in this search. I have a strong, complaisant, and not very bright man who will do what I need done. Best of all, he knows this area.”
“When you find the treasure he will still be your husband.”
“I can take care of that when the time comes, my lord. Do not worry about my future with Jack Burrell.”
“You should reconsider joining me instead. I can give you what Burrell cannot.”
Sophia looked at the dissipated features and bloodshot eyes of the man in front of her and said nothing, and Whitfield laughed.
“I am sure I do not compare well in some ways to a young man like Jack Burrell,” he said without rancor, “but I do have attractions of my own.”
Whitfield reached into his pocket and pulled out a document, which he put on the table in front of her.
“I will give you the deed to your family home in England, my dear Sophia, if you will give me your map.”
Sophia shook her head, and pushed the papers back to him.
“The house is no good to me without the money to restore it and the lands.” She leaned forward. “I will find the treasure, and when I do, I will buy the property from you.”
“Captain Burrell will allow this?”
She just smiled.
“I can see I have been underestimating you, my dear, swayed as I was by your youthful charms. Perhaps when this is over, you might see another attractive alternative. If you are unencumbered by Burrell and you marry me, you would become Lady Whitfield. I would not care if you lived in London or at your home after you provide me with an heir.”
“You would want to marry me after I have been living with Jack Burrell?”
Whitfield shrugged. “I am not a complete fool. I would wait a period of time to make sure there is no cuckoo in my nest, but I have always favored you, Sophia, and I feel we would do well together. You are strong. I admire that. You have always done what was needed to be done to survive. We are very much alike, you and I. I would be a complaisant husband, too, my dear, in my own fashion. You would have the added benefit of being Lady Whitfield, and our son would inherit my title. You would be able to move freely through London society. Jack Burrell cannot give you that.”
He took a swallow of his own wine and smiled. “Fools like Burrell are our natural prey, my dear.”
“We are scorpions,” she said softly.
“I was thinking ‘wolves,’ but you get the idea. Jack Burrell is just another sheep meeting his destiny.”
Sophia turned her wine cup in her hands, thinking. “How do I contact you if we need to make arrangements after the treasure is found?”
“You can leave a message here. Frankly, I am not at all opposed to you and that American doing all the hard work, traipsing through the wilderness and spending your own funds.” He looked at her and smiled. “I will have that treasure, dear Sophia. One way or another. I admire you well enough that I would share it with you, under the right circumstances. But accidents can be arranged for two people almost as easily as for one.”
“I understand.”
“I knew you would.” Whitfield rose from the table and said, “I will be leaving for Savannah for a few days—I think it prudent Captain Burrell not run into me, and this is a small town. But I will have agents here, watching developments, just as I had men in Fernandina to meet you.”
He took her hand and lightly kissed the air above her fingers, but then his fingers tightened on hers as he continued to watch her. She winced, but did not pull her hand away.
“Remember what I said. I will have that gold, one way or another. Au revoir, my dear.”
“You will be hearing from me,” Sophia said expressionlessly.
Whitfield bowed and exited, and she sat there for a few moments longer, making sure he was gone before pulling the shawl close around her head and leaving the tavern. She knew eyes followed her as she left, but she didn’t know if it was the usual tavern layabouts, or Whitfield’s men. No matter. Whitfield would do nothing while she had the map and the treasure remained hidden.
* * *
“Are you feeling well?” Jack said when they took an after supper walk in the cooler air, her hand on his arm.
“I do have a slight headache. I am not yet used to this heat.”
“I wish I could say the heat will get better, but I can’t. The summer isn’t full on us yet. You should get to bed early, Sophia. You have not yet adjusted to this climate and we have a busy day tomorrow.”
“You are being nice to me again. I am not sure I can deal with it.”
He looked at her sharply, but then shrugged. “You believe it is my nature, and we must be true to who we are.”
“Indeed, that is so, Jack. We are what we are, and unlikely to change.”