He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Penney will help us. We’re going to find them, Ruby. I promise.”
Chapter 30
Without Ruby’s sister, Penney’s butler would never have let them in. Archer had given his name, his former rank, his long association with Penney, and still the man had only looked bored and dismissive. Archer’s chest had gone tight with anxious dread.
But Cassandra—the Viscountess Dearne—had slipped the butler her card, and the man’s expression had gone dubious. When she’d tipped her head toward her crested carriage, he’d consented to go and see if Rear Admiral Lord Penney was receiving.
Cassandra had grinned and stepped back to rejoin their waiting crew.
Ruby had taken Archer’s hand and looked up into his face. “Are you certain you wish for me to go in with you?” she’d whispered. “You could take Cass instead. I do not... excel. At these sorts of things.”
He cupped her cheek, then leaned in very close so she could see him clearly. So she would know he meant what he said. “I want you with me,” he murmured. “All the time. If I had to lead a ship into battle, Ruby Ballimore, I would want you at my back. Armed, I hope, with your mortar knife.”
Her lips curved crookedly up. “Archer,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“No, I meant—” She broke off to put her hand over his, finding the lines between his fingers, brushing lightly against his ring. “Not Ballimore. Archer.”
He was just on the point of kissing her witless when Penney himself came around the corner.
Penney’s gaze almost passed over them—then paused, abruptly caught on Archer’s face. Archer watched his expression transform with shock and recognition. And then he watched Penney smile.
“Archer!” Penney was nearing fifty now, but his face was still boyish, his thick chestnut hair barely touched by gray. He reached out and took Archer’s hand in his. “I thought you well settled in Cornwall, my boy. What are you doing here?”
It was impossible to look at Penney and not remember... everything. Maps and cannons, sailcloth rippling in the sun. An inn with a fiddle. A cliffside chase. The rending of a ship.
“I am settled in Cornwall,” Archer said. “I’d like to be.” He touched Ruby’s shoulder. “Jack—this is Lady Ruby. My wife.”
Penney’s brows shot up. “Your—good God, son. Felicitations!” He took Ruby’s hand in his. “LadyRuby?”
Ruby let him press a kiss to her knuckles before she spoke. “My father is Earl of Hangleton and ambassador to Monfalcone.”
Penney glanced from Ruby to Archer and back again. “Hangleton’s daughter?” He clapped a hand on Archer’s shoulder, then turned the embrace into a pivot as he led them both away from the front door. “Youhavecome up in the world. I told you—didn’t I always tell you that you’d make good?” He laughed a little, warm and unvarnished, and then swept a hand toward the corridor. “Come. Come with me to my office. We’ll sit down, have some Madeira for old time’s sake. And you can tell me exactly what’s brought you here.”
Swept by the tide of Penney’s bluff enthusiasm, they went.
Presently, they found themselves seated across from Penney in a small, lavish study. The evening was warm, and Penney did not pause to stoke the coals in the grate before settling himself behind a large rosewood desk. Behind his head, the wall was lined with books and decorative plasterwork; the sconce in the wall shone with gaslight.
“Archer,” Penney said again, turning a pleased smile on them both. “What a sight for sore eyes. And now Mrs. Archer too.” He put his hands on the arms of his chair as he leaned toward them—a gesture so familiar it made Archer’s eyes burn. “Tell me everything that’s happened since I got you that job at the end of the world. How’s the Cornish holiday house?”
Archer reached out and caught Ruby’s hand in his. The kidskin leather of her gloves was butter-soft. He wished, painfully, for the warmth of her skin.
He took a breath and told Penney everything. He recounted the story of Signor Neri’s arrival at Pomeroy House and the princess’s attempted assassination. He told Penney about the kidnapping of Tamsin and Serafina, their discovery of Verdura’s ship, their recent marriage.
And when he was done, he hesitated.
He felt helpless—an awful, unbearable emotion. He’d spent the last eighteen years trying never to feel that way again.
They needed Penney. Archer did not know where else to turn. And if Penney rebuffed them—if Archer could not accomplish what he’d promised Ruby—he had no defenses left to shield himself.
His gaze flicked to Ruby and then back to Penney’s face. “I’m hoping you can aid us,” he said. “You know the Monfalcone royal family—and that includes Verdura. Hangleton says Verdura has fled England, but we’re not willing to give up yet. We want to track the duke down.”
He paused a long moment, not certain how hard to press. But it was Penney—and Penney knew what Archer had done for him.
“Please,” he said finally. “We need your help.”
Penney sat back in his chair. “My God,” he said. “Of course I’ll help. Only let me think what to do.”
