The Duke's Redemption. Carla Capshaw
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to the woman, for he’d never experienced a like emotion to compare with it.
Surely he’d learned his lesson, he thought in self-disgust. Women weren’t to be trusted. His wife had ended their union with betrayal, and the recent episode with his faithless fiancée had surely soured him on marriage for good.
So why did sighting Elise bring him such relief? Was it simply her beauty? Or perhaps it was the light of mystery in her eyes? Whatever it was, she was the first thing to please him since he’d learned of Anthony’s death. The long winter voyage across the Atlantic had put him in a fouler mood than when he’d left England, and the added frustration of finding so little information about the Fox proved infuriating. For the first time in months he looked forward to concentrating on a subject other than his brother’s murderer.
Elise lifted her head and caught him watching her. She tossed him a jaunty smile and beckoned him with a wave of her hand. He descended the steps at a leisurely pace, not wanting to seem overeager in his haste to reach her. His boots crunched the gravel as he followed the garden path to her side.
From her place beside the tree, Elise watched, transfixed by the predatory confidence Drake exuded and the warm manner in which he studied her. She was relieved to see he wasn’t offended by her bold request to meet her in the garden. He was by far the most intriguing man she’d ever met. Pity she had no wish to fall in love. If she did, he would be a mighty temptation indeed.
Princess whistled low and quiet from the shadows. “The man carrying the glasses is him, isn’t it? I can’t tell rightly in the moonlight, but he seems awful dark to be an Englishman.”
Without taking her eyes from Drake, Elise nodded. “From what I understand, he spends most of his time on a ship.”
“What’s his name again?”
“Drake Amberly.”
“He reminds me of a loaded pistol that’s primed and cocked. Maybe even more dangerous.”
“My thought precisely, Prin.”
Elise focused on her sister, hoping Amberly thought a view of the river interested her. Her sister’s large eyes, straight nose and high cheekbones were similar to her own and their shared father’s, but the night hid the mocha-brown skin and simple muslin gown that proclaimed her position as a house slave.
Prin’s mother, Abigail, had been their father’s property for a handful of years before Samuel decided he needed to marry and produce the legitimate son he longed for. Another girl, Elise had been a bitter disappointment for him.
Prin had been raised among the other slaves, but she’d done her best to protect Elise from their father’s drunken rages. An airtight bond of love had been forged between the two girls. Now their situations were reversed. Elise protected Prin. As long as she did what Zechariah dictated, she’d be given ownership of Prin once the war ended. From there, Elise planned to use the funds she collected from spying to create a new life for them both somewhere free from the hated chains of slavery.
“You can’t be too careful round a man like that,” Prin warned. “He walks like he owns the whole earth.”
“True,” Elise whispered. “He’s arrogant, but not meanly so, I think. I suppose it comes naturally to him. Men like him seem to acquire that particular trait at birth.”
Elise glanced back over her shoulder. Amberly had traversed half the lawn, but remained too far away to hear their conversation. She watched him, disliking the way her heart fluttered in anticipation of his arrival. He carried himself like a nobleman, as though he were well aware of and comfortable with his position in life. With purpose and a complete disregard for others’ opinions of him.
“Jus’ be careful,” Prin warned.
“You know I will be.” Her sister never ceased to play the part of mother hen. “You should go before he gets here. Tell Zechariah you delivered his message and I’ve learned no news as yet. I’ll meet with him after I’ve had a chance to speak with Amberly.”
“That old dragon wants a miracle,” Prin reminded her, speaking of Zechariah. “Your past work has spoiled him. You’re usually so quick to give him the information he wants, he thinks you can read minds and don’t need to talk or listen none.”
“Well, then, he’s deceived. I—”
“My, that man looks dangerous,” her sister interrupted.
Elise frowned and continued to focus on the river. “Prin, please go back to the house and deliver my message. Then wait in our room, all right? I want you safe. You know how the soldiers like to make free with their hands.”
“Maybe I’ll just hide over there in the bushes. When you get ready to head back to the house, I’ll go up with you.”
“No. What if Amberly sees you? There’s enough lantern light to expose you, and how would I explain your presence in the shrubs?”
“I’m your chaperone?”
Elise shook her head at her sister’s persistence. “I don’t need one with all the other guests strolling about.”
“Fine,” Prin grouched. “I’m going. Just remember the trick I taught you. A knee to—”
“‘If he tries to touch what he shouldn’t.’ Yes, I know. Now go,” she whispered.
A snapping twig announced Amberly’s arrival. Elise spun to face him just as he joined her. He offered her one of the crystal glasses he held. “Miss Cooper, the drink you requested.”
Smiling brightly, she accepted the glass. Her fingertips brushed his, and a pleasant sensation danced up her arm. Surprised by the contact, she forgot the clever quip she’d devised to begin the conversation and gain the upper hand.
She took a sip of fruity punch while gathering her wits. Amberly’s intense gaze flustered her, making it difficult to concentrate when questioning him should have been foremost in her mind. Forcing her thoughts to regroup, she flashed him a flirtatious grin, and slipped back into her least favorite role. “Why, thank you, Mr. Amberly. I do believe you’ve saved me from disgracing myself in a faint. I’m as parched as a hot summer day.”
“My pleasure, Miss Cooper. I’m pleased to be of service.” He peered into the darkness behind her. “You seem to be alone, but I thought I saw you speaking with someone. I trust I didn’t interrupt?”
“No. My maid brought a message from Mr. Sayer. I sent her back to the house.”
Drake’s brow furrowed. “I spoke with him moments ago. He warned me off you.”
Perplexed that Zechariah would do such a thing, she lowered her lashes to hide her confusion. “He did?”
Drake stepped closer, dried leaves crunching beneath his boots. His dark presence engulfed her, made her feel tiny. Nervous excitement shimmied in her belly. She had to crane her neck to look into his eyes.
“It’s obvious he’s smitten with you, but I hope you don’t feel the same way about him.”
Realization dawned. Christian must have been the one to warn him off. The tension tightening her muscles suddenly released. Laughter bubbled to her lips. “Christian isn’t smitten—”
“He is. I’ve no doubt.” He paused. “But, I fear I’m more so.”
Elise’s heart beat out of control. She flipped open her fan and fluttered it rapidly, hoping to cool the blush that warmed her cheeks. “You must be jesting. We’ve just met. Perhaps you were out to sea too long, and the sun has addled your brain?”
He grinned. “No, I simply know beauty when I see it.”
His comment sent a gush of relief through her. Her nervousness receded, though her disappointment increased. He was just another shallow man interested in a woman’s outward appearance. She’d dealt with such nonsense before.
She dropped