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The dowager chuckled mockingly, rolling her eyes at him. “Well, if it is, indeed, impossible to sneak onto the island and steal them away,” she thought out loud, her gaze drifting toward the bustling street out front, “then perhaps we should pursue an alternative.”
Albert frowned. “An alternative?” His hands clenched into fists, for he rather disliked following another’s lead.
The dowager’s gaze returned to him, and a sweet smile touched her lips. “But of course,” she replied, as though he ought to know the answer to his own question. “Well, I should think the solution quite simple. If we cannot go there, then we will simply have to lure them back here.” Her eyebrows rose challengingly. “All that is needed is the right incentive. Would you not agree, my lord?”
Albert could not help thinking that her words mocked him. Still, it would be unwise to anger the dowager. At least for now, they needed one another, their plan having a greater chance of success if they worked together.
“What sort of incentive did you have in mind?”
The dowager rested the tip of her forefinger against the corner of her mouth. Her gaze once more drifting to the window. For a moment, she did not say another word, paid him not the least bit of attention. Then, however, a slow smile spread across her features, one not speaking of joy but rather of deceitfulness and conquest.
Albert felt an involuntary shiver, serving as a reminder not to antagonize the dowager. After all, she would be a most formidable enemy.
Fortunately for him, though, she was not.
Miss Mortensen and her sister were.
And they would suffer for it.
Albert would make certain of it.
