Pleasing the Pirate: A Loveswept Historical Romance (13 page)

The thought made her sick to her stomach. Certainly she hated the English, but her thoughts did not matter. The English ruled Scotland and if she were caught spying, or snooping, or whatever it was Grant wanted her to do, then she would be hanged as a traitor.

He promised to return to Scotland with her but was this price too high to pay? She’d once thought no price was too high to get her brother back, but she wondered now. Was there a line she wasn’t willing to cross? She thought of her ma who always seemed to know what to do in any given situation. What would she do? What was right. She would do what was right, but in this instance was the right thing bringing Grant back to Scotland to help her people and becoming a spy in the process? Or was the right thing walking away and returning to Scotland without him?

Then being forced to marry MacGowan.

She closed the terrace doors silently behind her with no clear answer. Truthfully, either answer was unacceptable.

In the distance she could hear the women laughing and the lower rumble of the voices of the men, two of whom were spies for the English crown if Grant were to be believed. And yet hadn’t she had uneasy feelings concerning Sir Atwater from the beginning?

And what about Phin? Was he a spy as well?

Her head was beginning to pound from all that she’d learned today and from the dozens of questions that seemed to have no clear answer.

More laughter drifted through the closed door. It seemed to be a right jolly party that had gone on without her. A hue and a cry had not gone up when they discovered her missing, if they even had at all.

On her way through the study she stopped at the overly large desk that loomed before her, a darker shadow among lighter ones. Tentatively she touched it, drawing her finger down the smooth, cool wood. So Sebastian Addison was a spy.

Doubts poured through her. Doubts about Phin that she desperately wanted to push away.

Male voices drew closer. She yanked her hand from the desk and quickly made her way to the door where she peeked out into the hallway to find Sebastian and Phin a few feet away. Sebastian was leaning against the wall. Phin stood before him, his hands in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.

Her heart pounded so hard she was certain the men could hear it. Surely they knew she was in here contemplating spying on a spy. Her hands were shaking and she leaned against the wall, her head tilted back, trying to control her sudden uncontrollable breathing.

You’re acting as if you’ve done something wrong when you haven’t
.

Yet
.

This was ludicrous. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t spy on a spy. She had no idea even how to do such a thing.

“Does Mairi know?” Sebastian asked.

Her head snapped up and all senses strained to hear what was said next.

“That I’m using her to get to Grant?” Phin asked. “No.”

“Best she not know,” Sebastian said.

Mairi closed her eyes against the sharp pain in her stomach. And now she knew why Phin was friends with an English spy. They were working in tandem to find Grant. She pressed a fist to her churning stomach.

“Damn, but he was right there in the Coxswain and I missed him,” Phin said in disgust.

“He’s a slippery devil, to be sure,” Sebastian said.

“Time’s running out,” Phin said. “I can’t wait much longer.”

Her eyes popped open. What did that mean?

But she wasn’t to hear more for the other men came out into the hall and the conversation between Phin and Sebastian ended. She listened as the men moved toward the drawing room, their voices growing fainter. Soon Phin would come looking for her, but for the moment she needed to gather her wits about her.

She’d walked right into a trap when she’d asked for Phin’s help, and now her brother was to pay the price. He’d tried to warn her, Grant had. He’d told her that Phin had no interest in helping her.

She felt like the world’s worst sort of fool.

Why? Why did Phin want to capture Grant?

Was there a substantial bounty on Grant’s head? Phin was a pirate who would love a good bounty. Or, was he working for Sebastian to capture Grant?

Either way she’d trusted the wrong man, duped into believing that Phin would help her. She’d fallen for his lies—lies that dripped beautifully from his lips.

And she’d offered him her virtue in payment.

Grant had been right. She couldn’t trust the English. She’d let her heart get the best of her. Well, no more. Phin was using her. She could use Phin to find the information that Grant needed. She still wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to help Grant with his mad scheme to topple England, but she did want him to return to Scotland. She would rid herself of England’s dirt from her shoes and she would go home with Grant and never come back.

Squaring her shoulders, she returned to Sebastian’s desk and sat in the overly large leather chair that squeaked ominously as she lowered herself into it. She held her breath, her heart galloping in her chest as she waited for someone to come in and find her. But no one did.

She lit a candle. Hopefully the small source of light wouldn’t draw curious servants. She opened the top drawer to find a broken quill, a chain that looked like it would fit a pocket watch and a bit of ribbon. The left-hand drawer held blank sheets of paper, but the bottom drawer was more interesting for it was locked.

Mairi tugged on it a few times, then ran her hand around the edge of the desk searching for a key. She even got on her hands and knees, wincing at the damage she could do to the beautiful sapphire gown. There was no key there. Or if there was, it was well hidden and too dark to find. She tried the other drawers. There was correspondence from a solicitor in Chelsea. Apparently the earl was looking to purchase a factory there.

Another bit of correspondence was half-finished in tight compact handwriting to a London jeweler. It seemed the earl was designing a piece of jewelry for his wife to commemorate their first anniversary.

It was to be a fine, exquisite necklace made of yellow and white diamonds. According to the earl, yellow diamonds were Lady Addison’s favorite gems.

Even though the correspondence was wholly business related, regarding the creation of and purchase of the piece, Mairi could see the love that Sebastian had for his wife, and it made her guilt so sharp and painful that she dropped the letter and wiped her hand on her skirt.

The skirt that Gabrielle had loaned her.

She put her head in her hands and breathed deeply.
What are you doing, Mairi? How can you do this to these people who have been nothing but kind to you?

She rocked her head back and forth, dismayed at what she’d lowered herself to, appalled and hurt that Phin thought so little of her. She put the paper back where she found it and shut the drawer. Quickly she stood, pushed the heavy chair back into place, and made her way to the door. She was finished tonight. There was nothing about Grant that she could find unless it was locked in the drawer, and she had no idea how to open a locked drawer.

She snuffed the candle and stepped out of the study to find Phin striding down the hall.

“There you are,” he said. “The women were worried. They said you’d gone missing.”

She smiled up at him even though her heart still thundered. She wished she’d had time to gather her wits about her, to practice how not to look guilty, for she feared her guilt and shame were written all over her face. How did spies like Sebastian do this on a daily basis? It ate at her soul.

Phin seemed genuinely concerned about her absence, but she had to remind herself that it was all a ruse. He was concerned because he thought he’d lost his one link to Grant.

“Not lost,” she said. “I just needed some fresh air.”

He looked at the closed door and she took that moment to sail past him, not wanting him to look too deeply into her eyes lest he see the truth. That she knew what he was about and that it hurt her greatly. And that she’d just rifled through Sebastian’s most intimate correspondence.

When they entered the sitting room, Gabrielle came up to them with a look of concern. “There you are. We were worried.”

And by the tone of her voice Mairi could tell that Gabrielle truly had been worried. She pictured the yellow and white diamond necklace around Gabrielle’s neck and silently congratulated Sebastian on his choice. With Gabrielle’s dark coloring and dark hair, the yellow diamonds would look magnificent. And they would also cost a fortune. A fortune that her people desperately needed.

Her gaze flicked to Sir Atwater, who had glanced up when she entered. Their gazes clashed and she quickly averted hers. Could he tell just by looking at her that she’d been up to no good? Of course not. She was being silly and was overwrought by all that had happened tonight.

In fact she was so confused that her head was beginning to ache.

“I just needed some fresh air,” she said again, purposely turning away so Sir Atwater couldn’t see her.

Gabrielle’s face softened in sympathy and she rubbed Mairi’s arm. “It’s a bit much, all of us at once, isn’t it?”

Mairi blinked several times because suddenly she was aghast at what she’d done. What had she been thinking? What had Grant been thinking in asking her to do this?

And yet what choice did she have? If she didn’t help her brother he would never return to Scotland with her.

* * *

The next night they all attended the opera. It was called
La buona figliuola
, an Italian opera by the famed Piccinni. Phin had never heard of Piccinni before and knew only a smattering of Italian, but Gabrielle seemed thrilled to watch an opera in the language she spoke as fluently as English.

He kept his eye on Mairi, who sat rigidly next to him, her eyes trained on the stage, although he would bet his beloved ship that she wasn’t paying one bit of attention to what was going on down there.

She was pale, her lips pinched. She’d been that way since yesterday evening after dinner. Which made him wonder many things. She’d made no secret that she hadn’t wanted to attend the dinner. She was uncomfortable around his friends. He thought that had more to do with the whole English-Scottish thing than anything else.

She appeared to have enjoyed herself as she spoke to Fitzie and she’d eaten the food put before her. But something had happened after dinner. In that time when she’d disappeared to get “some fresh air,” as she claimed.

Yes,
claimed
. He was beginning to believe that there was more to that story than she was telling. He’d spoken to Ezra, who’d told him he’d talked to her twice while she was enjoying her fresh air. Ezra had said nothing was amiss. Just that she’d appeared ill at ease, which Phin could attest to.

Some
thing had changed her.

They’d barely spoken a word since leaving Gabrielle and Sebastian’s. Getting her to talk
was like pulling teeth. Her answers were limited to one or two words. She’d gone straight to bed, but he knew she hadn’t slept. Lying on the hard, cold floor he’d listened for her every breath, her every movement. She tossed and turned and muttered in the moments when she did sleep.

Tonight she wore a gown of ruby red. She reminded him of a bright jewel. But there had been no joy in the gown. If anything she looked almost ill and shot him fulminating glares as if it were his fault she was encased in the dress.

The curtain came down at intermission. The others stirred, stretched. Gabrielle and Claire began chattering right away. Emmaline spoke softly to Nicholas while Nathan and Sebastian snuck out.

“Would you care for a refreshment?” Phin asked Mairi.

Her back was straight, her shoulders squared. She was so brittle he feared if he touched her, she would shatter into a thousand pieces. This was not the same woman who had melted in his arms the other night. He wanted that woman back, for it was she who ignited the fires within him.

She stared straight ahead even though the curtain was down. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“Are you, Mairi?”

She glanced at him quickly, but just as quickly turned back to the stage. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t seem fine. What is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I’m tired, that’s all.”

He didn’t believe her, but he also knew he wasn’t getting any more information out of her. Whatever happened last night, she was keeping it to herself.

Had Grant returned? He didn’t think so. He’d had armed guards patrolling the area and no one had seen anyone suspicious.

The curtain rose even though most people were not yet in their seats. The lights were extinguished and the opera resumed, but Phin didn’t hear a word of it. He was too busy trying to determine what in the bloody hell was wrong with Mairi—and wondering why the hell he cared so much.

He was never so relieved as when the opera ended and he could leave the stuffy, hot building. Gabrielle and Claire tried to engage Mairi in conversation. She was polite. She smiled and answered their questions, but it was clear she wasn’t in the mood to converse, so the women
drifted off toward Emmaline and their husbands.

The crowd leaving the opera was thick. Phin kept a wary eye on his surroundings. His men had done their jobs and spread the word that Phin was escorting Mairi to the opera. They were about, watching and waiting to see if Grant came near. Phin kept Mairi in his sights at all times, urging her to either walk next to him or in front of him. But the thick crowd made that impossible at times, and as he opened a path for her to follow, she had to step behind him.

When he turned around she was gone.

“Mairi?” He frantically looked over the heads of the crowd but couldn’t see her striking red hair.

“Mairi?” he yelled louder. Heads turned, people eyed him, but he cared not. Where the hell was she?

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked, coming up beside him.

“I can’t find Mairi.”

“She’s probably with the other women. Nattering away no doubt.”

“I don’t think so.” Her strange behavior haunted him and now her disappearance seemed more ominous. Had she planned this?

Had she snuck away to be with Grant?