Page 77 of Forgotten No More

For only a moment he feared it was his father, returned with another line of inquiry and argument.

He was relieved when only the butler called back, “Very well, Mr. Jakeston. I will await you in the main hall.”

“Are you expecting someone?” Ruby’s question came on a breathless sigh.

He sat back, assisting her in sitting as well. She touched her hair to assess the damage they’d done with the tumble on to the chaise.

“You hair is still the height of fashion, nary a tendril out of place,” he assured her. “I cannot fathom who could possibly seek my attendance at this time of the evening.”

“Well, then the situation must be dire indeed.” Ruby stood, smoothing her gown and righting her pearl necklace. “Let us not dillydally.”

“Us?” It was the first time she’d ever referred to them as a pair without immediately taking back her words.

“Do you wish me to wait here, then?”

“Of course not.” Harold realized he still sat as Ruby moved toward the door. Not to be outdone, he hastily maneuvered past her and pulled the door wide, allowing her to breeze by him and out of the room. “After you, Miss.”

His eyes were immediately drawn to the sway of her hips as she preceded him down the hall. Next, visions of her encased in only a corset of the purest cream, a single pearl settled delicately between her breasts as they rose and fell with each breath. He had half a mind to grab her about the waist and return to the sanctuary of the salon, or better yet, he’d carry her right up the main stairs to his suite of rooms, where he could better serve her—whatever she desired.

“Mr. Jakeston.” Brock’s butler met them as they entered the foyer. “A Mr. Applewood is here to see you. I am unsure he is acquainted, and I can have him rid of quickly if you wish.”

“The name is unfamiliar,” Harold said.

The butler’s apologetic air and nervous glances toward the man standing before the front door made Harold leery.

“It is quite fine, Buttons,” Harold assured him before turning to his visitor. “Mr. Applewood, how may I help you?”

The man hurried across the room and extended his hand for Harold to shake. “My lord—”

Harold grasped the man’s hand in a firm shake. “No, Mr. Jakeston will do.”

“Mr. Jakeston, I apologize for interrupting your evening.”

“It’s of no concern. What is your need?”

The man was sweating profusely, his collar soaked as if he’d run the whole way to the Haversham townhouse. From the smell of him, he worked at the docks. His clothes were loose fitting and his hair tied back. His age was hard to discern due to the dirt on his face.

“I am the captain of the Lucky Hand.”

Harold had no clue what the man spoke of, but he was sure it involved his and William’s dealing at the docks.

“Your clipper, sir.” Applewood looked to Harold for any sign of understanding. “William Jakeston hired me to captain the ship to France.”

Leave it to William to select a name for their vessel without consulting him. The name was fitting, however, and he knew why his brother had chosen it. “My apologies, I was not aware we had selected a name as yet. Is there trouble?”

“I am afraid, Mr. Jakeston—the other Mr. Jakeston—has been injured.” Applewood rang his hands.

“How bad is he?” Harold asked, his heart suddenly in his throat. He searched for the butler.

“The dock doctor was called. I left to bring you as soon as he arrived.”

“Buttons, have two horses brought round.” Harold called, not knowing if the man lingered close.

“Make that three,” Ruby called.

He looked at her, startled. “Oh no, the docks are no place for a woman, especially when a man is injured.”

“I am going,” she said. “There have been many times you have inserted yourself in my dealings. It’s time I did the same.”