The Smuggler's Captive Bride by Dodd Christina

Author:Dodd, Christina [Dodd, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-05-19T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

LAURA WOKE with a start.

Her eyes popped open.

She was alone in the bed. Where was he, this nobleman who claimed to be the Seamaster? Who was now her lover? She didn’t see him, and her heart began to pound in a slow and steady rhythm. Had he seduced her, then abandoned her? Worse, had he got what he wanted from her and even now sought the means to dispose of her? Obviously, if her distrust blossomed so swiftly, her faith in him was a flimsy thing.

She heard someone prod the fire and saw the tongs and the sturdy brown hand which held them.

Hamilton was there, wrapped in his greatcoat and sitting on the settle.

The relief she experienced told her all too clearly the level of her anxiety, and she put her hand to her chest to calm the racing of her heart. Slipping from the bed, she pulled on the robe that hung on the bedpost. The cold floor made her toes curl, but she sneaked toward him, ugly misgivings keeping her silent.

Cautiously she peeked around the high back of the settle and saw him — leafing through Ronald’s diary.

“What are you doing?” she demanded, her voice cracking like a whip.

Hamilton calmly turned his head.

He’d known she stood there, she realized. The man was aware of everything around him, with senses heightened by the danger he courted.

But did the danger exist because the government sought him, or because he sought the smugglers?

“Why did you keep this from me?” He tapped the diary with his large forefinger. “This contains information Ronald acquired before his last fatal trip, and if I had known…”

“If you had known, what would you have done?”

“Jean would not have escaped me.” His mouth was a tight line, his brow furrowed, and he sounded sincerely distressed. “This Jean has caused England more trouble than any French rat has the right to cause.”

“The smuggling, you mean.”

“Smuggling, yes, and …” He laughed, short and sharp. “Well. The diary says Jean chose this location to land his contraband not because it is my manor and he knew my identity, but because he has an accomplice in the village.” Lifting one brow, he asked, “Do you know who it is?”

“How would I know that?”

“By eavesdropping,” he shot back at her.

She widened her eyes at him.

“Don’t pretend artlessness,” he said. “To start with, you’re not good at it, and you revealed too much of yourself when you came to me in London and demanded justice for Ronald. If I had never heard your name, still I would have known you were his sister, for he talked about your intelligence and bravery, and you have proved to have both.”

“So you think it was intelligent for me to have come here to help capture Jean?”

“No! Not that.” His hands squeezed the leather binding of the book, then relaxed. “But brave.”

“I trembled every moment,” she answered honestly.

“But you did it anyway. All my best operatives recognize the dangers, then proceed anyway. If you weren’t a lady, I would be hard pressed not to recruit you for our forces.

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