Page 9 of Barbarous

Did it count as a victory if the person you were arguing with was almost unconscious?

Hugh pushed away the pointless thought. “You purposely misled me about the magnitude of the threat to Lady Davenport, didn’t you?”

Will’s jaw worked, but he said nothing.

Hugh let out a string of curse words that made the other man flinch. “Your message made it sound as though Lady Davenport and my young cousins were in imminent physical danger—as if the whole damn lot of them were characters in a Sussex version of The Castle of Otranto.” He held up the scraps of paper. “Why didn’t you take the letters to her?”

Will shifted from foot to foot, his eyes dropping to the grass. The only parts of his face still visible—his forehead and the tips of his ears—were scarlet.

Hugh exhaled. “I see.” And he did. Will had seen a chance to get Hugh back on English soil and he’d pounced on the pretext—no matter how flimsy.

He knew he should have felt flattered his oldest friend wished him to return so badly—but he wasn’t. Instead, his jaw ached with the effort of not yelling.

“You purposely deceived me to get me back here, didn’t you? Did you ever think about what my return from the dead would mean to the woman you were claiming to protect?”

Will didn’t move or speak.

Hugh threw up his hands. “Well, as of today, I’m her biggest bloody problem. My presence in her well-ordered life will be far more detrimental to her peace of mind than a few anonymous notes.” Hugh didn’t even bother to mention the biggest threat the other man had unleashed on the poor widow: Hugh. An unprincipled, immoral dog who would lust after his own uncle’s widow and do everything in his power to have her.

Hugh closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before opening them again and charting a new course.

“Can you imagine the scandal the news of my return will unleash on her household?”

Will looked up at last, his expression mulish. “You told me to send for you if I thought you were needed here—by either his lordship or anyone else in your family. I truly believe Lady Davenport and her sons are in danger—some kind of danger—so I wrote to you. My lord.” The last two words were a grudging afterthought.

Hugh massaged his scarred temple, which throbbed in times of aggravation. Times like now. Aside from his instant fascination with his widowed aunt, the brouhaha his sudden reappearance would stir up was enough to make Hugh weep. Just wait until the rest of his family learned he was back; just wait until his Aunt Letitia learned he was back. Good God in Heaven. The woman was more frightening than a ship full of armed corsairs.

Hugh closed his eyes and tried to block out the scene. Was it too late to run back to the harbor, jump on his ship, and disappear again?

Chapter Three

Daphne’s maid began speaking before the door had even closed.

“Why has he come back here after all this time? Why did he wait until now to return—until after Lord Davenport died?” Rowena demanded, pacing and wringing her hands so hard Daphne could hear the joints popping from across the room. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand whom Rowena meant.

Daphne wondered the same thing herself, of course, but saw no point in admitting it.

“I can hardly put such a question to him, Rowena. Besides, why shouldn’t he come back to Lessing Hall? It was always his home. It is still his home. It is we who are trespassers here, as you well know.” Not to mention thieves and liars, she could have added. “In any case, his reasons do not alter the fact that he has returned and—”

“Do you know the name of his ship?”

Daphne blinked at the rude interruption, staring hard at the smaller woman’s reflection in the mirror as she came forward to remove her habit.

“I beg your pardon?” Rowena had been her mother’s maid and Daphne had always treated her more like an aunt or older sister, but that did not mean she would tolerate such a hostile cross-examination.

“Do you know the name of his ship, my lady?”

“The name of his ship? Why would I know which ship he returned on?” Daphne yanked out her hat pin and snatched the hat from her head before spinning to face Rowena rather than argue with her reflection in the mirror. “Why are you asking these strange questions?”

“Because his ship is the Batavia’s Ghost and he is its captain.”

Daphne stared at her servant as she tried to make sense of her words. She could not have heard her correctly. “Batavia’s Ghost?”

“Yes.”

“But that is—”

Rowena nodded grimly. “Aye, Batavia’s Ghost is One-Eyed Standish’s ship.”