Playing with Fire by Sandra Heath

Author:Sandra Heath [Heath, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 2002-08-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Sir Julian could hear the steady rhythm of oars as he reached the beach, and he strained to see through the fog. Ozzy sat at his side, his ears pricked attentively. At last a ghostly silhouette emerged, at first a pale indistinct gray, but gradually becoming more clear until both Sir Julian and the cat could see every detail of the naval launch as it glided toward them.

The man standing at the stern saw the figure on the beach and called a challenge. “This is Uriah Pettigrew, boatswain of His Majesty’s frigate Lucina. Identify yourself!” he called.

Sir Julian was taken aback. Identify himself on his own property? He’d be damned if he would!

“Your name, sir?” Mr. Pettigrew prompted.

“Sir Julian Richardson, owner of this land!” Sir Julian replied irritably.

Amanda stood up and waved excitedly, making the launch roll from side to side. “Uncle Julian? Oh, Uncle, it’s me, Amanda!” she cried.

“Amanda?” Sir Julian’s jaw dropped, for he had been awaiting word of his nieces’ whereabouts, and had expected to send his traveling carriage to collect them from one of the ports. Instead the navy had brought them to his very door! And they seemed to have sufficient baggage with them to provide for half a dozen women, he thought, observing the crates that were piled on the boat.

The seamen shipped the oars as the launch slid onto the sand; then some of them leaped out to haul the craft clear of the water. As they then prepared to help the three women, Mr. Pettigrew jumped down and strode toward Sir Julian. He was passed in the other direction by Ozzy, who rushed toward the launch with almost indecent haste. The tomcat was mewing excitedly, and his calls were being answered with equal excitement from Tansy’s box.

The boatswain reached Sir Julian. “Good morning to you, sir. This is indeed a happy coincidence, for you are the very gentleman we seek.”

“So it would seem. So it would seem,” Sir Julian murmured, looking past him at the launch, where Tansy and her box were now on dry land again. Amanda was being lifted out to join her, and then a third woman, older, and presumably the chaperone Franklyn mentioned in his letter.

Sir Julian could not help noticing how akin Tansy’s cloak was to the chaperone’s. Both garments were practical, plain, and clearly not expensive, whereas Amanda’s was richly decorated and had clearly cost a considerable sum. He could not help reflecting that his fears about the place Tansy would occupy in Franklyn’s household had been justified. Tansy was, and had no doubt been made to feel, the poor relation, but the shy smile she directed toward him now was a world away from the sulky pout on Amanda’s lips. Sir Julian knew which niece he was drawn to, and it certainly was not the countess-to-be!

But then his attention was snatched by the very odd sight of Ozzy scuttling up and down beside Tansy’s box like a thing demented. What in the world was

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