our life running.”
“I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“I’m serious, Samantha. If I let Foster go, I won’t be able to go back to South Carolina.”
“I hear Venice is nice.”
His smile broadened and he chuckled. “Una villa sul mare Adriatico?”
“Yes, a villa on the Adriatic.” She nodded. “Where did you learn Italian?”
“Home, when I was small. My father was Irish, but my mamma was Italian.” He stroked his thumb over Samantha’s cheek. “All right, mio angelo. My angel. Let’s go to Venice and find your dreams in the sun.”
~ ~ ~
London was a shadow on the horizon, a jagged silhouette in the light of dawn, and Sam had already discovered just how little she knew about ships.
She did her best to stay out of the way as Nicholas and Masud worked the rigging and the wheel, trimming the sails, speaking to one another in what sounded to her like a foreign language—made up of words like “leeward” and “spritsail yard” and “thirty degrees on the port quarter.”
The ship was barely larger than a fishing schooner. In fact, it might be an old fishing schooner, she thought, gazing down into the glassy waters of the Atlantic slipping by. She liked the wind in her hair, and the smells of wood and canvas, the sea-spray in her face.
Clarice had been happy to bid them farewell—and not merely because Nicholas had said she could send word to her rich banker that the coast was clear and all pirates had abandoned ship. She had hugged Samantha, whispering in her ear, “You’ve got a chance, the two of you. The kind of chance most people don’t get in this or any other lifetime.”
Remembering, Samantha grinned, her suspicion confirmed that beneath her worldly-wise, sophisticated exterior, Clarice was a genuine romantic.
Standing up, Sam grabbed a pole-like piece of wood overhead to steady herself—only to have the opposite end connect with something solid.
“Ow!” Masud rubbed his head, looking at her with a mournful expression.
“That’s called a ‘boom,’ Samantha.” Nicholas laughed, standing a few feet away, securing the anchor. “For obvious reasons.”
“I bruise easily, miss,” Masud protested. “And I try to keep from bleeding more than once a week.”
“Sorry, Masud,” she said meekly. She glanced at his bandaged arm. “And I really am sorry about that, too.”
“All right, all right,” he said gruffly. “I’ll agree to a truce if you promise to stop apologizing.”
“Done.” She smiled.
Nicholas came up beside her and kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you go below and wait for me in my—in our—cabin.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” She gave him a salute and followed orders, though if there were only going to be the three of them manning the ship all the way to Venice, she would have to learn a little seamanship sooner or later.
She clambered down the ladder that led into the dark belly of the ship, heading toward the back. Aft, she reminded herself, her mind and heart filled with thoughts of Nicholas and Venice and sunsets over the Adriatic. She opened the door to their cabin.
And didn’t notice she wasn’t alone until the door slammed shut behind her.
She whirled to find a tall, slender figure stepping forward from the shadows.
A dark-haired young man with only one arm.
“We meet again, Miss Delafield,” he said coolly, the gun in his hand glinting in the pale morning light. “Did you think you had seen the last of me?”
Chapter 28
Sam felt cold terror pour through her. “Foster!”
He smiled. “I was waiting for Brogan to come below—but this is much better. You’ll make an excellent shield.”
Her eyes on the gun in his hand, Sam backed away, toward the porthole. If she could just call for help...
“Please stop right there, Miss Delafield. And don’t scream. Even if you’re bleeding from a bullet wound, you’ll still be useful to me.” He motioned her toward the door. “After you.”
She froze. “How did you—”
“I told you once before, I know a great deal about Brogan. Including who some of his old friends are. It wasn’t difficult to locate that doxy’s house.”
“Clarice,” Sam gasped.
“Have no fear, Miss Delafield. She’s alive and well and she’ll stay that way. Though she should choose her friends more carefully. I’ve been watching the house for several days. I followed the African when he went to the docks one morning, thinking he might lead me to Brogan. Instead he was checking on this ship. Apparently it was in need of repair, which proved fortunate for me. It was fairly easy to sneak aboard with one of the repair crews and stow