The Duke's Redemption. Carla Capshaw

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The Duke's Redemption - Carla  Capshaw


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changed his accent as best he can, but if you listen closely, you can hear his cultured tones.”

      “It’s possible he’s putting on airs,” Christian offered.

      Elise nodded in agreement. “Yes, but I’ve spoken with sea captains and sailors before. I know many men of trade. None have his confidence or air of command. It’s as though he owns the world and accepts it as his due. I’ve only seen that sort of bearing in the lords and ladies I met in Williamsburg, or more recently, in the entourage of General Cornwallis.”

      The spymaster rubbed his whiskered chin. “The maid who unpacked for him saw nothing out of the ordinary. His clothing and trinkets are of good quality, but nothing is especially grand—”

      “Of course it isn’t,” Elise said with a touch of impatience. “If a man wishes to hide his identity, what does he do? He pretends to be the opposite of who he really is.”

      Zechariah gave her a sharp look. “Don’t sass me, girl. I know what a man does to hide his identity. I’ve been doing it for a good many years.”

      Chastised, she nodded, but didn’t apologize.

      “Still,” he said, “you’ve said nothing to convince me he’s a spy.”

      “No, but if I’m right, there’s trouble afoot. Everything he’s told us regarding himself would be a lie. He’d have to be here for some other purpose….”

      The room fell into silence as each of its occupants considered the situation.

      “The man is hiding something,” Zechariah conceded. “I can smell it. If he’s a spy, then you must find him out.”

      Elise nodded. Christian frowned.

      “Spend every possible moment with him until the truth is discovered.” The spymaster’s gaze pinned to her face. “He’s taken with you, girl. And you need to reestablish your worth. This is the perfect opportunity to do so.”

      Elise thought of her strange reaction to Amberly. The oddly delicious, frightening way he’d made her feel. “Zechariah, I…I’m not the best choice for this errand.”

      “Nonsense, there’s no one better. Prove yourself once more or I’ll be forced to replace you with someone willing to face the noose if necessary. I’m sure your mother and your weasel of a stepfather will accept you back in Williamsburg, but I might have to sell your sister.”

      Like a foul stench, his words hung in the air.

      “You’ve no need for concern. I’ll do your bidding, as you well know.”

      “Excellent. Within a week, I want more information on Amberly than even his parents possess of him. Do we understand one another?”

      Christian interrupted from beside her. “I’ll help, Elise. The two of us might enjoy more success if we work together. However, there is one small problem.”

      “What?” Zechariah asked irritably.

      “I warned him off before he followed Elise into the garden.”

      “Aye, he told me,” she said.

      “And why, pray tell, did you do that?” Zechariah slapped the top of the tidy desk. To Elise, “Did Amberly listen? Did the man keep his distance?”

      Elise hesitated, recalling Drake’s vibrant presence, the way he’d affected her. Yet, to tell Zechariah of her reaction would make her weak in his eyes. He might think she’d grown unable to separate her feelings from her work. “He must have, for none of his actions were untoward.”

      Zechariah frowned in Christian’s direction, but spoke to her. “Pity. Now you’ll have to convince him his attentions are welcome.”

      She doubted that would pose a serious challenge. “I understand.”

      Zechariah passed her a small packet tied with string. “Good. Now that’s settled, here are the letters I want you to deliver to Tabby tomorrow. She’ll need to pass them near a flame’s heat for the message to appear.”

      Elise accepted the envelopes. The recent invention of invisible ink amazed her. “If I’m to take these to Tabby, how am I to spend time with Amberly?”

      “He has business in Charles Towne. You’ll have time on the ferry to charm him.”

      Never more unsure of herself, she nodded and made for the door.

      Chapter Four

      Sleep refused to visit Elise. Despite the cool breeze ruffling the white lace curtains of her bedchamber, she was hot and sticky with perspiration. Moonlight illuminated the far side of the room, but barely reached the mosquito-netted bed where she tossed and turned.

      More and more of late, her prayers seemed to go unanswered. Without the Lord’s guidance she felt adrift and abandoned. With her future and the future of her sister in ever-increasing peril, she clung to the scripture that promised the Lord would never leave her.

      But, she had to admit, her faith had begun to bow under the weight of His silence in the midst of her endless concerns.

      Prin released a long-suffering breath. “Who you wrestlin’ over there?”

      “I can’t sleep,” Elise mumbled. The ropes holding the feather mattress creaked as she flipped to her back. “I believe I’d find more comfort on a stone slab.”

      “It’s a mite better than the mats and cold musty ground of the slave cabins.”

      “I know,” she whispered. “I have no right to complain.”

      “What’s ailing you, then? The truth, if you please.”

      “Nothing.” She couldn’t talk about Zechariah’s threats with her sister. Prin would protest by way of silent mutiny and hot cups of tea in the spymaster’s lap at breakfast. In all likelihood, Zechariah would use the excuse to relegate Prin to the slave cabins instead of turning a blind eye to her presence in his home as he did now.

      “So you’ve taken to lying? I thought my mother taught you better.”

      Prin was like a hound with a strong scent in her nose. If she ran true to form, Prin wouldn’t leave her sister alone until she was fed a satisfactory tale.

      “Nothing in particular, I should have said.” Elise sighed. “In truth I have much on my mind, none of which I wish to trouble you with.”

      “I’ll wager you do have much on your mind. My name may be Princess but you’re the queen of frettin’.” Her sister turned smug. “Good thing I’m here. I knew you’d come to me for the truth.”

      “You know I’m always glad you’re here with me, but in this case, I wouldn’t know what truth you speak of.”

      Prin rolled her eyes. “Of course you do, Lisie, you’re not the brainless girl you play so well. You’re not blind either. Your problem’s a simple one—man trouble. Did you find out whether Amberly’s married or not?”

      Truth to tell, she’d forgotten to inquire about such basic information. In retrospect, she felt quite inept. If her reaction to the man hadn’t distracted her so, she would have had him volunteering those simple facts without him realizing. “No, but then you’re the one determined to see me wed.”

      “I want to see you settled and protected.”

      “But I have no wish to marry.”

      “You’re nineteen,” Prin pointed out. “Fast becomin’ an old maid.”

      Elise groaned. “And any man within five colonies is an acceptable candidate?”

      “I just want you safe and happy.”

      Elise crossed her arms behind her head and closed her eyes. Her sister’s concern tugged at her heart. Still. “I can’t see how being shackled to a man can


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