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She swiveled her head. Several shipwrights hadstopped working to ogle her. When he saw her watching him, one of the men waggled his eyebrows at her.
“That’s quite some headgear,” said Wright. “How do you make your way forward if you can’t see what’s coming on the sides?”
“I’m supposed to have someone at my elbow at all times guiding the way. A governess, a maid, a footman, a family member.”
“And yet you’re here all alone.”
“My carriage is waiting. Will you come for a ride with me?” The fewer people who saw her here, the better. She was going far outside her mother’s sphere of what was allowable conduct for a lady.
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now. We need to speak in private. There’s not a moment to lose.”
A hopeful expression filled his eyes. “Have you heard from the duke?”
“No, not yet. I came to say that you were right.”
“What was that?” He cupped his hand over his ear. “I didn’t hear you.”
“I said that you were right. My brother may be a duke, but Foxton’s reach is wide and his pockets deep. He owns law officers, judges, fire and safety inspectors, and he helps govern the Worshipful Company of Carpenters. I’ve no idea how he spread the word so swiftly. I had my butler inquire with several carpenters, and when the bookshop was mentioned they slammed the door in his face.”
“So you’re in need of rescuing, is that what you’re saying?”
He was going to make this difficult for her.
“I could use your help,” she admitted through gritted teeth. “No carpenter, joiner, or builder in London, even the apprentices, is willing to risk angering Foxton. He’s too powerful. Are you still brave enough to take him on?”
He cocked his head. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“The prize money. I collect prize money for every enemy ship captured—and every bookshop renovated into a clubhouse for lady knitters.”
“We’ll discuss terms on the way to the shop.”
For the first time, Beatrice realized that they would be alone in the carriage. No matter. There would be no kissing—imaginary or otherwise—while she was wearing such a wide-brimmed rogue-deflecting bonnet.
“My mate on theAngela—”
“Will be handsomely remunerated. Get in the carriage, Wright. There are too many people staring at me.”
“It’s the bonnet.”
“Just get in the blasted carriage!”
“Tut-tut, Lady Beatrice. Such language.” His grin was filled with devilry. “I never enter carriages with strange ladies.”
She glared at him. “You’ll want to hear my offer, I assure you. I can’t force you into the carriage but my footmen could.”
“Am I being kidnapped?”
“Get. In. The. Carriage.”
He laughed. “All right, all right. You win, princess.”
Chapter Ten
Ford climbed into the carriage after Lady Beatrice. “I’m not sure there’s room enough for meandthat bonnet.”
