The Wicked Captain by Mary Lancaster

Author:Mary Lancaster
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2019-11-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

TO HER SURPRISE, he was limping across the hall with the young countess by his side.

“I’m very glad to hear it, Captain. Oh, here is Eve, so we need not send the servants after all!”

Eve curtseyed in return to Lawrence’s bow. As far as she could tell, his face seemed free of the pain she had seen there yesterday.

“The captain and his friends are going to join us for dinner tomorrow night,” the countess said. “Also, Admiral and Miss Hill. Thank you for accepting in person, Captain. I’ll leave you in Eve’s capable hands for now.”

At something of a loss, Eve walked toward the nearest reception room, and he followed her.

“I didn’t know she had invited you to dinner,” Eve murmured, inviting him to sit with a wave of her hand toward the nearest chair.

Lawrence sat in the chair next to hers. “I received her note this afternoon. The earl mentioned something about dinner the other day, but I didn’t really expect him to do it.”

“I think he always does as he says. He’s not an easy man to know, but I rather like him. And are the others happy to come, too?”

“Of course. The only concern is Orpington because if he has a go at Donovan, I suspect it will be pistols at dawn!”

“He won’t be stupid enough to provoke an actual fight with a soldier. But his insults can be sly. Don’t let yourselves be riled by him.”

“We won’t,” he assured her.

“You seem better today,” she said, just a little breathlessly. He always had that effect on her.

“I am. I saw a quack who gave me some very sensible advice. He doesn’t rule me out of joining the army to defeat Bonaparte.”

She risked a glance at him. “Will you?”

“It won’t feel right not to go.” His eyes were intense, but she couldn’t read their expression. His breath seemed to catch. “What of your treasure hunt?”

Almost relieved, she opened her reticule and took out the folded paper with the list of words. Spreading it open on the low table in front of them, she told him the various meanings that had come to her and the possibilities.

He nodded thoughtfully. “I would say the most singular word is altar, though.”

“The only altar I’ve discovered is in the ruined chapel I told you about. And none of the other words seem able to describe it. You can’t have a young altar! And a home altar doesn’t make much sense either.”

“No, I think the home must refer to the family home in Blackhaven. And I’m sure you were on the right lines with the ruined chapel with the altar.” He frowned. “Is it far to walk?”

“No, just five minutes into the woods.”

“Will you show me?”

“Yes. Of course. I have my cloak already. But we’ll need to be quick or the light will fade.”

The wooden-faced footman opened the door for them, and they walked down the front steps and across the terrace, where Lawrence casually swiped up a bag from the floor of the gig.

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