He watched with dismay as she disposed of his last cheroot in a pretty lacquered dustbin. “Congratulations.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “He’s a very kind, generous gentleman.” She drew out each word, especially the last one, her hazel eyes boring into him. “Who likes to visit me frequently. Sometimes daily. I’ve had to go through all sorts of hell—”
“Watch it, Clarice. You’ve been around me less than five minutes and already your language is slipping.”
“—to explain to him why he can’t call on me at the moment. He doesn’t know anything about my past.”
“And I sure as hell am not going to tell him,” Nicholas assured her. “I have no intention of interfering with your affairs, Clarice. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I thought it wise to get off the streets and out of the public eye before I end up full of bullet holes. I’ve made the papers, you know.”
“It’s not the first time.” Her voice and demeanor softened—so imperceptibly that someone who didn’t know her well wouldn’t have noticed. “And that’s the whole point. You’re not safe anywhere in England. Certainly not in London. Not even here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So you do still care.”
She scowled at him. “Blow it out your scuppers, Brogan. All I want is exactly what I wanted six years ago—you out of my life. As quickly as possible.”
“We’ll be out of your way just as soon as the ship is ready. Now then, can I talk to Masud?” He turned and headed down the corridor. “I assume from your pleasant good humor that he’s arrived ahead of me.”
“Upstairs.” Taking a candelabra from a polished table, she followed him. “He arrived this morning.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?”
She pushed past him to lead the way up a curving, gilded staircase. Nicholas couldn’t help noticing the richly appointed rooms, the gleaming marble floors. Despite all the verbal daggers he and Clarice always threw at one another, and all the past wounds inflicted, he felt genuinely glad that she had found the happiness she had always sought. “I take it the servants have the night off?”
“Servant. I can only afford one. My housekeeper manages to do the work of ten women. And yes, I sent her on holiday.” She cast a glower over her shoulder. “Since my third floor has been converted into an inn for outlaws.”
They went past the second floor and up to the third. At the top of the stairs, she turned a corner and stepped aside.
And there sat Masud, in the hallway, asleep in front of a door.
Nicholas looked down at him in bewilderment. Clarice woke him unceremoniously with the toe of her slipper. “Wake up, Masud. The prodigal pirate has returned.”
Startled from his sleep, Masud rubbed at his eyes and stood up. “Cap’n. Glad to see you at last. We were getting worried.”
“You were getting worried,” Clarice corrected. She shoved the candelabra into Nicholas’s hands. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve had enough of the good old days for one day. I’ll leave you lads to hash this out.” Turning, she headed back down the stairs.
“Hash what out?” Nicholas glanced from Clarice’s retreating figure to Masud. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
“Fine, fine.” Masud rubbed at his temples as if he had a headache.
Nicholas waited a moment. “So?” he prodded impatiently, when his friend didn’t say anything more. “What happened? Did you take care of the blackmailer?”
“Aye, Cap’n.” His voice sounded odd, as if he were either exhausted or drunk. “That I did. Just follow me.” Masud led the way down the corridor to another room.
Inside, he picked up a package from the table beside the door.
Nicholas breathed a long, slow sigh of relief as Masud placed it in his hands. It was the package he had sent from America, addressed in his own hand, with South Carolina tax stamps on it.
And one side was soaked with blood.
He closed his eyes, shook his head in disbelief. It was over. It was finally over. “You killed him, then.”
When Masud didn’t reply, Nicholas’s eyes snapped open.
His friend stood there in silence, his expression uncomfortable.
A sense of foreboding spread through Nicholas. “Don’t tell me you disobeyed orders again.”
Masud blew out a breath. “Aye,” he admitted at last.
“Damn it, Masud, you swore—”
“Let me explain, Cap’n—”
“Explain what?” Nicholas demanded angrily. “Why the devil didn’t you kill him? If he’s still alive, where—”
“You’ll understand in a moment, Cap’n. I... uh, wanted to try and explain things first, but...” He muttered a curse. “Maybe it’s best if