Rogue of the High Seas (28 page)

“That is insane.”

Nicholas walked to the door and opened it. Before he stepped out, he turned and smiled. “You are the one who is insane, Father.”

Shauna was pretty sure most brides didn't spend their wedding day discussing revenge, but Owen had scarcely gotten the words out of his mouth before her new husband, along with her brothers and cousin had started talking about where to search.

“So that's why the bastards dinnae show up on any ship's docket,” Jamie said. “I offered gold to any dock master who could provide information and I got nothing.”

“Because they never left,” Ian said.

“Why did they not just get on the same boat they used to abduct Shauna?” Mari asked.

“I think they wanted an alibi,” Shane answered. “Since Shauna was supposed to go to the charitable home that day, they were the first suspects. If they'd been gone when we went there, we might have been able to pick up the trail. They wanted time.”

Robert set his jaw. “Their time has just run out.”

“Aye.” Jamie frowned. “They could be anywhere. Where do we look?”

“Nicholas recognized me too,” Owen said. “My guess is he will not be staying around too long.”

“The docks then,” Jamie replied. “The sooner we get down there and spread out to search the better.”

Mari put her hand on his arm. “You cannot all just leave. The earl is hosting Shauna and Robert's wedding reception.”

“Sherrington will understand.”

“He might, but his guests certainly will not. If all four of you walk out, the gossips will have fodder for weeks, if not months. You know how vicious they can be with their on-dits.”

“And ye ken I doona care about their tongues wagging.”

“Yes, and I do not particularly care either. And whether the earl cares or not, what matters is the
ton
will see your leaving your relative's wedding reception as a gross insult to her and to the earl. And remember, Shane is married to Abigail. The matrons do not need another reason to spread about that she married a barbarian.” Mari smiled at Shane. “Please do not take offense.”

“I have been called worse. I agree that Jamie and Ian should stay, but I ken these docks better than any of ye, so I will explain to Sherrington. He will make an excuse and let me slip away.”

“Good idea,” Robert said. “I wish I could go with you.”

Ian raised a brow. “Ye might want to think about that.”

“Aye. Your bride isnae looking happy about that thought.” Jamie grinned. “Ye might have to find a way to make up for that. If ye want my advice—”

“He doesnae need it,” Shauna retorted and felt herself blush. That had not come out exactly as she intended. And blast Jamie for starting to laugh at her. Then she felt Robert's hand at her waist as he bent down and whispered.

“I fully intend to make you happy later. Trust me.”

Hours later, as Robert walked up the stairs to their bedchamber, he wanted to kick himself for being such a stupid oaf. What kind of a man would even think—let alone say—he wanted to leave his own wedding? The look Shauna had given him earlier that afternoon when he'd said he wished he could go search had been one of incredulity. He wouldn't blame her if she decided not to warm his bed tonight. As they were sharing the same room, he might very well be the one not warming the bed. He sighed and hesitated in front of the doorway. There was only one way to find out.

Embers glowed in the hearth as he entered and the oil lamp had been turned down. Only a candle on the small table remained lit. Dimly, he could see the outline of Shauna's body under the sheets of the bed. She was probably asleep. He cursed silently. He should not have waited to find out what Shane had to say when he returned, but he didn't think it would take as long as it had.

Quietly, he undressed and slipped under the covers. He turned his head on the pillow. Should he wake her?

He was about to when he felt her hand on his thigh. The warmth of her touch made his cock begin to harden, and by the time her fingers had found his shaft, his erection was full-blown and hard. God have mercy. Could Shauna be asleep and dreaming? Or…

He didn't finish the thought as she curled under the sheets and he felt her soft breath on his belly and a minute later, the warmth of her velvety tongue as she began to lick the length of him slowly. A moan escaped him as she cupped his ballocks, squeezing with gentle pressure that sent pleasure pulsing through him. And then he groaned in earnest as her hot, wet mouth covered his head and she began to suck him. Christ. He was going to explode.

Robert reached for Shauna, pulling her up across his belly and chest and pushing her knees apart with his thighs so she straddled him. He growled and thrust his cock upward, driving into her tight sheath hard and deep. Robert lifted her hips and brought her down on his shaft again until she picked up the rhythm and rode him on her own. He wanted to bring her pleasure, but he didn't know how long he could hang on after she'd driven him nearly mad with desire with her clever tongue. Just when he thought he could hold out no longer, he felt her inner muscles clench around his shaft and he let himself go, taking Shauna with him.

Even while trying to catch his breath, Robert remembered what a fiasco his wedding night might have been. Thank God, Shauna wasn't one to hold a grudge. Robert grinned to himself. And it wasn't over. The night was just beginning.

When Shauna awoke Monday morning—or more accurately, noon—she decided being married to Robert surpassed anything in her wildest fantasies. Her wedding night had been wonderful, and even though Robert had joined her brothers and Shane in searching the docks and visiting ship offices yesterday, he'd suggested they retire early. She felt pleasantly sore and thoroughly satiated.

Robert's side of the bed was empty, so Shauna made quick work of her ablutions and hurried downstairs to find him in the breakfast room talking to Jamie, Ian and Shane.

She slipped into a chair beside him and he laid a hand on her thigh under the table. Shauna resisted the urge to giggle and assumed the same neutral expression Robert wore. Mari gave her a knowing look.

“Amongst us, we have inquired at every dock capable of handling anything larger than a skiff,” Ian said. “No one matching either Algernon or Alton's descriptions have boarded a departing vessel since Friday.”

“I have offered a reward for anyone spotting either of them,” Shane said and turned to Jamie. “I gave instructions to send a runner here.”

“Aye, meanwhile we will continue to search,” Shane said just as the bell rang at the front door. He looked at the others. “Do ye think a runner has arrived already?”

Jamie rushed out, only to return a minute later. “'Twas only the post,” he said, handing several letters to Mari.

Mari thumbed through them. “Here is one for you, Robert. Abigail forwarded it from Edinburgh.”

“It's from my brother,” he said as he opened it and read silently.

Shauna watched as his eyes widened and his face paled beneath his tan. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“I…I'm not sure,” he said and quickly reread the letter. “I…my brother says Jane has been found.”

Shauna's hands went clammy. “Alive?”

He nodded. “Yes. In New York. She's been arrested.”

“Who is Jane?” Jamie asked.

“My former fiancée,” Robert replied.

Ian's brow arched. “Former?”

“Aye,
former
,” Shauna said since she could tell from the expressions on her brothers' faces where this was going to lead. “Let him explain.”

When he'd finished, Ian and Shane seemed placated, although Jamie still looked skeptical. But then he'd always been overly protective. “Ye doona need to fash about it,” Shauna said to him and turned back to Robert. Small hairs on her nape began to prickle since he looked troubled. She had a sense of foreboding. “Is something…else…wrong?”

He folded the letter, handed it to Shauna and then looked at the others. “I am being accused of being an accomplice to fraud. Jane had a dowry of sorts and I…had given her some investment advice. It seems she went to New York and used her English connections to integrate herself with the Astors—”

“John Jacob Astor?” Shane asked, both brows going up.

“I would imagine through his wife or another female relative,” Robert answered, “but, yes, the same family. Why?”

“The name is well known in the shipping business,” Shane said. “Your President Jefferson gave the mon permission to sail during the embargo. It made him very wealthy.”

“Well, apparently Jane knew it,” Robert said, “and used her dowry as seed money to encourage him—or his wife—to help her set up a charitable fund. Only it wasn't so charitable. Thousands of dollars the Astors contributed are missing, and Jane claims I left her and brought the money here to England.”

Shauna unfolded the letter as her brothers and Shane all started talking at once. Robert's former fiancée was sounding more and more like a trollop—albeit it one of financial means. She scanned the lines and then let out a small shriek.

Silence ensued as all eyes turned to her. “What is it?” Mari asked.

“This Jane,” Shauna said, not quite believing what she read. “You didn't tell me her last name.”

Robert pointed to the letter. “It's right there. Litton.”

“Lady Jane Litton was your fiancée?”

Yes.” Robert frowned. “Do you know her?”

Shauna shook her head. “Not personally, but Kier might.”

“Kier?” Jamie looked puzzled. “What does Fiona's husband have to do with this?”

“Oh, dear Lord! You are right, Shauna!” Mari exclaimed.

“Shauna is right about what?” Ian asked.

“Just before Fiona and Kier returned to Ireland, she told us he had been duped by a
former fiancée
into giving her money and then she sailed off to America with the funds.” Shauna laid the letter down. “The woman's name was Lady Jane Litton.”

“It has to be one and the same,” Mari said.

Robert grimaced. “So Kier's money was the
dowry
she had come into. I should have known something was wrong with her story.”

“Doona blame yourself,” Shauna said. “Kier was fooled by the woman too.”

“I have to go back,” Robert replied. “I need to clear my name and get Kier's money back if I can.”

“I am going with ye,” Shauna said.

“I could be arrested too,” Robert said. “I can't risk taking you along.”

Shauna folded her arms and looked at him.

Jamie laughed. “Ye may argue the point, brother-by-marriage, but ye willnae win. Ye might as well save your breath for better things.”

“Jamie is right,” Ian said. “Besides, since we suspect Alton is in London, 'tis better ye take Shauna with ye. That leaves us only Mari to protect.”

Shauna nodded. “Then 'tis settled.”

“Kier might be interested in accompanying you,” Shane added. “Not only will he have the satisfaction of confronting the woman and hopefully get his money back, but he can also collaborate your story by telling the courts of her unscrupulous past.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Mari said and then smiled mischievously. “I am quite sure Fiona will want to go along as well.”

“So we'll be off to Ireland then.” Shauna smiled at Robert who looked as though he were about to protest. “Kier and Fiona will need a few days to prepare, so how soon can we leave London?”

Robert opened his mouth and then closed it. He sighed. “The
New Orleans
is ready. We can leave tomorrow.”

Jamie clapped him on the back and bit back a grin. “See how easy it was to agree? Ye will get used to it in no time.”

Wesley looked in the hotel room's mirror and smoothed his blue satin waistcoat, adjusted the snowy-white cravat and slipped his arms into a black topcoat, marveling at the feel of hand-tailored clothes. The first thing he'd done when he and Nicholas had arrived in London was seek out a men's shop. He was tired of the various disguises he'd had to adopt the past two years and the ill-fitting clothing that went along with those personas. Finally, he was going to the States, and he intended to travel like a well-dressed, aristocratic gentleman…which he was, except that the damn MacLeod had stolen his title. Wesley picked up his kid gloves and smiled. Perhaps he would grow quite rich in America. He'd heard it was the land of opportunity. He could even hire someone to kill Ian MacLeod and his kin. The long fingers of crime could easily reach across the sea if there was coin enough to grease the palm of the receiving hand. The devil's own demons lived in London's east side, and Wesley had met more than his share while trapped there.

But that was a matter for another day. For now, he would be every inch the noble. He gathered his falsified documents—he was Warren Addison for this trip—and chuckled. This would be the last time he would use a fake identity.

He heard the clang of a bell down below on the street. His leased hack was here. Wesley picked up his valise—a new leather one with hand tooling—and stepped out the door to go down to the awaiting carriage. He was pleased to see his request had been followed. The barouche had shiny mahogany panels on the doors and the brass trim had been highly polished. The hood had been reclined and he could see the rich velvet seats had been brushed. The liveried driver and footman showed respectful courtesy as Wesley approached. The four horses attached to the carriage were matching bays and their harnesses had been oiled until they shone in the sunshine that had miraculously broken through London's constant grey dreariness.

How often did the sun shine in London? He decided it had to be a good omen as he stepped into the carriage and sank back on the plump seat. A good omen indeed. For once, his plan was working out. In another thirty minutes, he would be aboard the
American Pride
and be making his grand escape.