The Infamous Rogue Part 19

The door opened.

"Waz all the shouting about?"

Quincy entered the room, followed by Edmund's long figure. The two bucks looked bedraggled. Words slurred. Shirts rumpled. Hair mussed.

William frowned. "Are you two just getting in?"

The fledglings settled into two winged chairs positioned beside the fireplace. Edmund closed his eyes, disinterested in the goings-on around him. Quincy grinned, however.

"You told us to make sure it looked like we were having a good time," said the pup. He hiccupped. "So we did."

Aye, they'd had a good time. James had only to glance at them to see they were foxed.

He ignored the rubbish about it "looking" like they'd had a good time. He a.s.sumed it was besotted drivel. He focused instead on the "good time" and turned to William with pointed regard.

"Aren't you going to preach to them about responsibility?"

"They were working," returned William.

"You mean whoring?" said James.

"I mean working." Wil iam set his eyes on Quincy again. "Well?"

Quincy flicked his fingers for dramatic emphasis. "We spread the news."

"Word should reach them soon," said Edmund, dozing.

There was a creeping chill that gripped James's bones. He sensed he was back at the house party. Once again he was barred from the conversation, barred from entry. Foxed and drowsy, the men still had a better grip on the conversation than he had-and he was sober and alert with all his faculties in place.

James curled his fingers into his palms. "I'm going to shoot each of you if you don't tel me what the h.e.l.l is going on."

"We've set a trap for the impostors," said Wil iam.

James gathered his brow. "What sort of trap?"

William moved away from the desk and approached the liquor table. He poured himself a small amount of spirits.

"Here." Quincy stretched out his hand. "Pa.s.s the rest o' the bottle to me."

William snorted. "You've had enough."

Edmund was breathing deeply, sound asleep.

William looked at James again. "We tried hunting the charlatans, but they're elusive. We figured we'd let them come to us instead."

Quincy chimed in with, "Eddie and I spread the word about our precious 'cargo' in port tonight."

"Is that why you're p.i.s.s drunk?" demanded James.

The kid shrugged. "It's al Will's fault. He told us to make it look like we were having a gay ol' time before we let word slip about our valuable cargo. Less suspicious, you know?"

William clarified, "The impostors won't think it a trap then."

James glared at the lieutenant. "What cargo?"

But it was Quincy who blurted, "Diamonds."

"Blimey!" James bl.u.s.tered, "We're going to have every ship-pirate or not-hunting us now!"

Edmund started at the bellowed remark, blinked, then dropped back against the chair and closed his eyes.

"Quincy's teasing," William said in a calm manner.

James glared at the pup.

Quincy looked sheepish. "You'd think bedding a wench like Sophia would put you in a better mood."

William downed the spirits. "I don't think he bedded Sophia."

The pup's eyes rounded. "Oh, that'd put me in a foul temper, too."

"f.u.c.k off," said James. "All of you."

William set the empty gla.s.s aside and returned to the matter at hand. "We spread word we were hauling two hundred tons of sperm oil across the Atlantic. The booty wil fetch a high price in America. It's sure to entice the impostors out of hiding."

"Aye." Another hiccup. "Eddie and I were 'foxed' and let the word leak."

"You are foxed," James growled, "and you're repeating yourself."

The kid looked confused. "Am I?"

"We're to set sail in two nights," informed William.

Wednesday night.

James rubbed the back of his neck, so stiff. The trap coincided with the opera-and his revenge. But he refused to give up on Sophia. He refused to let the witch think she had chased him off with her wily ways, that she had won their battle of wills. He would attend the opera and stil return in time to set sail with his brothers and crush the impostors.

"There's a lot of work to be done over the next two days," said William. "We need to prepare the ship and crew."

The ship and crew were already prepared, thought James. The men might have retired from piracy, but the fight in their blood was stil strong. And the Bonny Meg was always equipped for a brutal sea battle, her guns in ideal condition. However, there were other provisions to ama.s.s, like food and gunpowder, more canvas, and medical supplies. Two days was plenty of time to gather the needed materials.

James sensed the spasms in his neck, the twisting muscles. His brethren had done everything without him. They had prepared a trap and set it in motion without advice or leadership from him. They had never done that before.

James fisted his palms as if to keep the authority, the control from slipping between his fingers. "Fine. We weigh anchor in two nights."

Quincy rambled, "And the Bonny Meg needs to be in good shape for our next venture, too."

"What venture?" snapped James.

The inebriated Quincy glanced at William with only one eye open. "You still haven't told him?"

James cut the lieutenant a sharp glance, too. "Told me what?"

William looked from one brother to the next, the room quiet except for Edmund's sound and steady breathing.

"Let's talk about it some other time, James. Get some sleep. We have a lot to do before we set sail."

The lieutenant was right. James was f.a.gged, the spirits he had swallowed earlier taking hold of his senses and making him drowsy. Whatever shipping venture his brother had planned, let him deal with it. He always did.

William headed for the door. "I'll fetch Sophia and return her to your room."

Yes, Sophia.

James still had that island witch to seduce, and he needed all his faculties intact to bring about her downfall.

Chapter 12.

S ophia searched the crowd. The opera was scheduled to begin in a quarter of an hour, so the theater was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with patrons. It was hard to see over so many heads.

Where are you?

She pinched her eyes closed. A longing stemmed from her toes. The appendages twitched at the memory of his touch, his heat.

She huffed. Curse the blackguard! He possessed her senses even now. He chained her thoughts, even her will. For two days she had suffered in silence. For two days she had languished without a touch or a word from him. Lifeless. Even the earl had cooled his pursuit of her. The black devil had pressed him to be more affectionate. Jealousy had goaded him to be more possessive. But as soon as the pirate lord had deserted the country house, the earl had returned to the aloof yet amiable gentleman that he was- sans proposal.

Sophia opened her eyes. She lifted them to the vaulted ceiling. Stone columns and arched doorways supported the grand structure. She was dizzy. She lowered her gaze to the wide steps, carpeted in rich red fabric. She placed her hand on the wood finial for support. Traffic ascended the mighty staircase. The upper levels housed the private boxes.

There was so much noise, so much color and movement.

Once more she searched the throng of spectators. She stepped onto the red carpet, seeking height-and the proverbial black locks that heralded him.

One look and she would be satisfied. She would ignore him the rest of the evening then...but the brigand had a way about him that disrupted her senses. Would a single look be enough to quiet her restless jitters?

"My dear, did you hear?"

Sophia grabbed the glossy banister, startled. "Hear what, Lady Lucas?"

The matron dabbed her brow with a kerchief. "It's most shocking!"

Sophia had parted from the party, looking for breath and quiet...and him. She wasn't privy to the goings-on that had transpired in her absence. But she had to wonder: What had happened in the past two minutes that was so shocking?

She eyed the woman closely. "What's wrong, Lady Lucas?"

"Well-"

"It's horrifying, Miss Dawson!"

Sophia glanced at Lady Rosamond, skirting toward her. The girl's cheeks boasted rich pigment, even her lips looked bright and plump with blood. And her eyes! Her eyes glowed and sparkled and burned with energy.

"It's al my fault." The earl was more ashen. He followed his sister like a sentry. "It's my duty to protect you, Mondie."

Sophia quickly descended a step. "What's happened? Are you hurt?"

Rosamond gasped for breath. "I've been corrupted!"

"Nonsense, Mondie!" cried the earl.

"I was very nearly corrupted...and by an acquaintance I trusted, Miss Dawson."

Lady Lucas was flushed, too.

Sophia's head throbbed. She whispered, "Who?"

"There she is!" Rosamond squeaked. "What is she doing here?"

Sophia whirled around. The horde still moved and laughed and chatted. However, the whispers started, too. The pointed looks.

Sophia followed the b.l.o.o.d.y trail of gossiping voices and disdainful expressions to the wounded creature in the center of the room.

Imogen.

"You invited her to the opera, Mondie," said the earl.

"Two days ago! I didn't know who she truly was then."

Sophia's heart cramped. "And who is she?"

"That's what I was trying to tell you, my dear." Lady Lucas whispered, "Miss Rayne is a fallen woman."

It was a hammer to the heart, the words. So hard and biting. Sophia watched the lone figure fidget. She listened to the ghastly murmurs, so much louder in her own head. They were like savage blows, the voices and looks. Her bones ached under the pressure of the beating. She wasn't even the unfortunate victim...but she sensed it. She sensed every brutal bash.

Sophia trembled. "Are you sure she's a fallen woman?"

"Oh yes," said Lady Lucas.

"It's all over Town." Rosamond hissed, "She lost her virtue to a Jew."

"Mondie!"

The chit composed her features, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with vim. "It's what I heard."