Duke of My Heart (A Season for Scandal #1) by Kelly Bowen

Author:Kelly Bowen [Bowen, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2016-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

They’d moved silently to the rail, and in the pale moonlight, a man came into view, shreds of dissipating fog swirling around his booted feet. He was wearing a thick coat, and his hair gleamed wetly in the moonlight, having been slicked back from his face. A dark beard covered his lower jaw, and he was weaving slightly, as though he was drunk. Ivory strained to make out the man’s features. The docks were dangerous at night. Not many people chose to walk alone. And certainly not while drunk.

The notes of the melody rose and fell. There was no way such an obscure opera aria would be hummed twice in two days by two different men. Well, anything was possible, Ivory corrected herself. Though the odds of such a happenstance were unlikely. And she always deferred to the odds.

“Black,” Alderidge whispered.

“What?”

“That man. That’s Richard Black. Captain of the Azores.”

“You know him?”

“Yes.” There was a catch of hesitation.

“Who is Richard Black?” The man had drawn closer yet, and Ivory could see that his coat was hanging open. In his hand an old-fashioned tricorne swung, some sort of feather in the brim bobbing with each step he took. Occasionally the man would start to list to one side, before correcting his gait with the extra care of someone who was well in his cups.

“He captains an Indiaman for the company, same as me. His ship will be moored here somewhere.”

“He a friend?”

“Sort of. Not exactly.”

“What does not exactly mean?”

“Black is a bit of an…entrepreneur. He smuggles a fair amount of cargo to England that never makes it onto company manifests. Or any type of manifest, for that matter.”

“Like what?”

“Stolen art and antiquities. Opium. Liquor. Persian carpets. Rare fabrics. It changes based on demand.”

“Hmph.” Ivory absorbed this information. “And yet you look the other way?”

“Black has a web of informants throughout the ports from here to Bombay. He is a trader of information as well as goods—a man who seems to have an ear everywhere. The routes we navigate are dangerous. So long as I have information that allows me to keep my men and my ships safe, what Black chooses to put in his holds is not my concern.”

“Ah. This captain—does he know Beatrice?”

Alderidge shook his head. “No. At least I can’t imagine so. I’ve never spoken about her to him.”

“Never? Not even in passing?”

“No.”

“Not even at the bottom of a good bottle of rum?”

Alderidge scowled at her. “No.”

“You sure?” Ivory was searching for a possible connection. This man fit the general description Collette had given them. And he was whistling the same obscure aria. Was it possible that this was the person who had helped Bea?

“Yes, I’m sure.” There was an edge to the duke’s voice now. “We’re not exactly drinking partners.”

A thought struck Ivory. “Bea said in her last message that she was leaving London. Do you suppose she might have appealed to this captain for passage to India?”

Beside her she heard Alderidge suck in his breath. “Oh God.”

“You said she’s asked you to take her to India.

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