His uncle’s fingers tightening on the handle of the delicate teacup was the only sign that he was in any way distressed. “Indeed?”
“Yes.” Henri kept his eyes on his uncle. “And Mr. Wivenly is being held captive on one of the French islands, probably Martinique.”
Uncle Bates held Henri’s gaze. “I shall assume, as you are sharing this information with me, you are not in league with the Vicomte Villaret de Joyeuse.”
Henri tried not to show his surprise, but couldn’t stop his eyes from widening. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t,” Uncle Bates said, smiling slightly, “until you added the pieces to the puzzle that were missing. We had a suspicion it was Miss Eugénie’s French family, but not enough to confirm it.”
Henri took a drink, then told his uncle about the plan to marry Miss Villaret to a Frenchcomte. “Where is the family now?”
Uncle Bates took another sip of tea. “They’ve gone with the Whitecliff family to Tortola for a few days.”
That would buy him some time, but why Tortola? Monsieur Yves had mentioned a gentleman . . . Henri grinned. “She’s getting married.”
“She and Miss Cicely both. When Miss Eugénie returns, she will be the Viscountess Wivenly.”
“Ha! That will put a spoke in the Frenchman’s wheel.”
“It will indeed.” Uncle Bates rose. “I must attend to my duties. I shall assign a look-out for the ship, and as soon as they dock, I’ll send a message warning them to keep a watch over Miss Eugénie.”
When Henri returned to his house, a message from Monsieur Yves waited for him. Entering the parlor, he bowed.
“What have you discovered?”
“The Wivenly family has gone on a short pleasure cruise with their neighbors. They should return in a day or so. I’ll have someone keep watch at the docks.”
The man’s countenance darkened, then his lips twisted in a smile. “This could work. We shall be ready for her when she returns, and remove her immediately to my ship.”
Henri bowed, careful not to allow his satisfaction to show. That is exactly what he thought the Frenchman would do. All he had to do was stop Miss Villaret from being taken.
As theSong Birdrounded the west end of Tortola, Andrew found Cicely sunk on a bench built into a small cabin near the bow of the ship. Her parasol sat abandoned next to her on the deck and a wide-brimmed hat graced her head. He sat beside her, sliding his arm around her shoulders and drawing her against him. “What is it? I thought you’d be happy.”
She snuggled in, but a tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “If we find the vicar, I’ll be happy. I’m just so afraid he will be gone as well.”
“If he is, we’ll chase one or the other of them down.” He lifted the bonnet, placing a kiss on her cheek, then put it back down. “Believe me when I tell you, once Viscount Wivenly has the bit between his teeth, nothing will stop him, and he desperately wants to marry Eugénie.”
Cicely pushed the floppy straw brim back and tilted her head. “Why call him by his title?”
Andrew grinned. “Because, my love, when he gets like this, he ceases to be Will, and will use all his rank and status to get what he wants.”
“As he did yesterday morning?”
“Exactly. We won’t return to St. Thomas until we are all wed.” Andrew eyed her hat with dissatisfaction. If the sun weren’t so bright, and the wind so high, he’d remove it. “Are there any other dragons I can slay for you, milady?”
Cicely shook her head. “Only one, but you won’t.”
“Let’s see what happens to-day, shall we?” He had no doubt she’d seen Eugénie’s state of dishabille last night and put two and two together very quickly. He wanted to be with Cicely every bit as much as Will wanted to be with his betrothed. In fact, Andrew was about at the end of his rope. He’d heard there was a Methodist minister on Tortola, and if need be, he’d move heaven and earth to convince Mrs. Whitecliff to allow that man to perform the ceremony.
Chapter 25
Will held Eugénie in his arms as they stood at the starboard rail.
“That”—she pointed to a piece of land sticking out into the sea—“is Gun Point. We’re almost through Thatch Cut. It won’t be long now.”
Will pulled her back against his chest. “How long is ‘not long’?”
“About an hour to an hour and a half.”
