Page 72 of Much Ado about a Widow

“Oh, dear Lord.” Her grip tightening on his arm, Georgie drew back against him.

“It’s all right, my love. That’s Gentleman John. Hello, John.”

“John?” The horror in her eyes was pitiful to see. “You knew him?”

“Oh, no. He was here long before I was born.” Lord, that didn’t seem to help. “The story goes that the smugglers in my grandfather’s day found the skeleton washed up out of the sand of the cove one day. They dug him out, put those clothes on him, then arranged him thus. Every time they brought the smuggled goods up from the ship, they’d talk to John. Say hello, ask him how his accommodations were, if his last meal was good.”

“Rob, really.” The frown on her face was better than the fear, but not by much. “You should have put a stop to that and had the poor man buried in a decent grave.”

“And I will do so as soon as we return from Scotland. My word of honor.” He held the torch high, throwing the skull into high relief. “We’ll see you on the return journey, John.” Rob bit his lip. He would probably go to hell for this. “Won’t you speak a word to him, Georgie? This could be your only chance.”

“I most certainly will not.” She glared at Rob. “How disrespectful.”

“Disrespectful to speak to a man? How is that?”

“He’s dead, Rob.”

“Then you should pay your respects.”

That argument seemed to give her pause. She looked up at Rob, then back at John, and took a tentative step toward the skeleton. “I am very sorry about your demise, John. I hope you rest in peace.”

“Why thank ’e, milady.”

Georgie screamed and stumbled back into Rob, making the candle waver dangerously.

“I does appreciate your concern for me time in the afterlife.” Rob could scarcely finish the sentence for laughing.

“Rob!” She punched his chest, and he laughed all the harder. “I should kill you here and now and leave you to be company for John. Serve you right. My heart is beating like a drummer pounding out quick time.”

Smothering his laughter, Rob put his arm around her. “I’m sorry but it’s the smuggler’s initiation, love. You are truly one of the family, even if we’re not yet married.” He kissed the top of her head and got an elbow in his side for his pains. “Come, it’s not much farther. See you later, John.” They continued down the passageway, past another two empty cells, Georgie unusually quiet. “If it will make you feel any better, love, I will confess that when they introduced me to Gentleman John, I wet my breeches.”

“You did?” She glanced up at him, her delectable mouth puckering in a smile.

“Yes, well, I was eight years old at the time, so you really shouldn’t think the less of me.” He guided her around an outcropping of rock. They’d passed out of the castle and were now descending toward the cove actually inside the cliff. “I remember my mother was not at all pleased with the escapade, and I was sent to bed without my supper for a week.”

“Perhaps a bit severe for a young boy only seeking adventure.” Georgie had taken his hand and laced their fingers together.

“Please remember that sentiment when you dole out my punishment this evening.”

“You are no longer an eight-year-old boy, Rob.”

“But I am still bent on adventure.” He gazed into her lovely green eyes, longing to lower his mouth to hers. “The greatest one of my life.”

“Wretch.” The whispered word sounded more like a caress than an admonition. “I will take everything into consideration.”

The tunnel had grown colder as it lightened until the candle was no longer necessary. Rob extinguished it and laid the sconce to the side of the tunnel, then doffed his jacket and pushed her arms through it. “It’s going to be very cold, and the wind will try to blow you away.”

“Rob—”

“Don’t argue. I’ll be fine. We have a fair amount of rough beach to cover. Can you make it?”

“I will.”

“Good. Come on.”

He seized her hand and pulled her out into the hazy sunshine, squinting in the light much brighter than that of the tunnel. The rocky terrain of the beach made even walking difficult, with great boulders jutting up out of the sand here and there, and scruffy sea grass poking up out of the crevices. Carefully, they picked their way across the short expanse to the dock that extended out into the cove. The chill wind whipping his shirt to and fro spurred Rob to run once they were on solid footing, their feet thumping loudly on the weathered boards until they reached the small boat. Briskly, Rob rowed them the short distance to the Justine.

“Welcome aboard, Captain. My lady.” Ayers stood behind the ship’s wheel, apparently awaiting their arrival. Rob had sent word to the crew yesterday to be ready to sail this morning. Now he hoped to God the tide was still with them.