Strange Capers (25 page)

He stopped and smiled softly. “None of them were
you.
After my younger brother went off to the Peninsula, I began to take stock of my worthless life and mended my ways. I took the job at the F.O. to do my bit for the war. It gave me a great sense of satisfaction until that load of arms went astray under my responsibility. I decided then to resuscitate my old reputation for wildness and track them down. I thought I might find my way into the gang more readily if I were spoken of as a worthless fellow in need of quick money. So I called myself the opponent in Kirkwell’s duel to give me an excuse for coming here at this rather daunting time when anyone with a particle of sense was leaving the coast. The loss of one shipment might not have been worth so much effort, but as they got clean away with one, we feared they might go after others. So I had my superior write up that letter implying I was turned off from the F.O. Then an unexpected but perfectly delightful complication turned up.
You,”
he said.

“I suddenly discovered that I didn’t want to be known as a scoundrel and a drunkard. I wanted to show you my better side, but without changing my colors enough to tip Mickey the clue. Shakespeare, another genius, said it best. ‘We that are true lovers run into strange capers.’ It’s been a strange caper.”

“Does that mean we’re true lovers then?”

“I’ve been looking for a lady worthy of true love and have found her. You must speak for yourself.” He stood, looking at me with a very flattering uncertainty that soon turned to impatience. “Well?” he asked.

“I never argue with Shakespeare, and I’ve been somewhat involved in the caper, too. But
true
lovers cannot lie as you do, Aiglon.”

A slow smile spread across his face as he pulled me up from the rock and into his arms. “Why, you said yourself lies aren’t lies when Aiglon tells them. Don’t be pedantic,” he added, closing my lips with a finger to silence my objection. “Even if I was forced to tamper with the truth, I mean to keep my promise to find you a husband.”

“On your word of honor?”

“Word of a gentleman, and a liar,” he assured me, but his kiss had the
feeling
of truth. That was all I knew, or needed to know.

Joan Smith is a graduate of Queen's University in Kingston, Ontario, and the Ontario College of Education. She has taught French and English in high school and English in college. When she began writing, her interest in Jane Austen and Lord Byron led to her first choice of genre, the Regency, which she especially liked for its wit and humor.

She is the author of over a hundred books, including Regencies, many with a background of mystery, for Fawcett and Walker, contemporary mysteries for Berkley, historical mysteries for Fawcett and St. Martin's, romances for Silhouette, along with a few historicals and gothics. She has had books in the Doubleday Book Club and the Literary Guild, had one book condensed in a magazine, and has been on Walden's Bestseller list.

Her favorite travel destination is England, where she researches her books. Her hobbies are gardening, painting, sculpture and reading. She is married and has three children. A prolific writer, she is currently working on Regencies and various mysteries at her home in Georgetown, Ontario.

Copyright © 1986 by Joan Smith

Originally published by Fawcett Crest [0449207617]

Electronically published in 2011 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.