No Choice But Seduction
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Anthony ignored that question. “Since you didn’t succeed, I don’t have to kill you. However, I do need to make it very clear that seducing my daughter is to be removed from your list of choices. In fact, where—”
“Your what?”
Anthony didn’t pause at that interruption. “—she’s concerned, you don’t get any choices. She’d have to be so in love with you that it makes her literally sick before I’d ever consider letting yet another Anderson into the immediate family. And since that obviously isn’t the case, you, dear boy, will bloody well stay away from her.”
Incredulous, Boyd looked to James for answers. “He’s delusional, right?”
“’Fraid not, Yank.”
“But she’s as American as I am! How can she be his daughter?”
“In the usual way it’s done, I would imagine,” James said drily.
“You know what I meant,” Boyd replied, his frustration mounting.
James shrugged. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, she is a Malory. Which is too bad for you, ain’t it?”
That “too bad” held a lot of meaning, and some of it came to him immediately. For the third time, Boyd was caught off guard and knocked to the deck. But this time he came up swinging.
Chapter Forty-Two
WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TELL HER?” James quietly asked his brother.
They stood at the rail of James’s ship, watching The Oceanus in the distance trying to catch up to them. It wasn’t going to happen unless he allowed it.
The Maiden George, as he’d rechristened his ship when he bought her a few months ago to take Georgina to Connecticut, had been named for his wife, but also in fond memory of The Maiden Anne, the ship he’d lived on for so many years. This ship was faster, but only because he’d removed all of her cannon before they set out to find The Oceanus. He could do nothing but run if attacked, but if attacked, he could run damn fast.
Sailing unarmed had made the voyage a bit dangerous, considering the rampant pirate activity in the Mediterranean, but speed had been preferable with Anthony climbing the walls with his impatience. And with good reason. They had instructed Boyd on how to go about seducing the chit. So it was imperative they find him and Katey before that happened.
James had let The Oceanus catch up to them once, deliberately. But that had just turned into a shouting match that had infuriated Anthony, because he couldn’t reach the Yank to pound on him some more. Katey, who was now on board The Maiden George, hadn’t come up on deck to hear it, which was a good thing. Women tended to get all sympathetic when they witnessed the battered face of someone they knew, and Boyd’s face definitely fit into that category. Which was possibly what Boyd had been hoping would happen, since he’d shouted for them to stop so he could talk to her.
Katey hadn’t seen his condition when she’d returned to the deck of The Oceanus with her servants and baggage, ready to change ships, because Boyd had already been carried off to his cabin by then, quite unconscious.
“Well?” James prodded his brother.
“I’d prefer to wait until I no longer look like a panda,” Anthony mumbled.
James chuckled. “It’s only one black eye he gave you, not two. But I’ll allow he did give a good accounting of himself. Surprising, that. Don’t think you were expecting it either, were you?”
“I’ve never had him in the ring. From the sound of it, he’d been hoping for an invitation. I wish he’d mentioned that before today. I would have much preferred to know ahead of time that that fight was going to last so bloody long.”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, come to think of it,” James said. “The puppy spent more time admiring my pugilist skill in Connecticut than he did trying to trounce me with his brothers. But they were all pretty handy with their fists, those Yanks. The third worst beating of my life, as a matter of fact.”
“There were five of them on you at once. Perfectly understandable, old man. The Andersons aren’t exactly small men. And the other two beatings?”
“You and the elders, of course,” James reminded Anthony. “When I brought our niece home after stealing away with her that summer so long ago.”
“You allowed that beating because you were feeling guilty, or so you finally admitted. When was the third time?”
James chuckled. “Had an entire tavern full of miscreants jump me in the Caribbean once.”
“Mouthed off at the wrong time, did you?”
“So I mentioned it to you?”
“You might have, but I’ve had one too many shocks lately. It’s not coming to mind.”
“They actually thought I was dead. I was beaten so badly that night they dumped me off the dock to hide the evidence. That’s how I met Gabrielle’s father and ended up owing him my life, a debt he called in this summer when he asked me to sponsor his daughter for the Season. He and his first mate pulled me out of the water.”
Anthony laughed. “Now I remember. You mentioned it when you explained why you had a pirate’s daughter under your roof. But you do realize that the very least of those fights was three to one, and that one you allowed. You’ve never gone down one-on-one, have you? Not even with me.”
“Neither have you. We are wise enough to end our matches before we bruise each other very badly.”
“Of course. Can’t have the wives getting annoyed about it.”
“So when are you going to tell her?”
James threw that back out to catch Anthony off guard after getting his mind off it, but Anthony just gave him an aggravated look and the warning “Don’t push. It’s not exactly a subject one raises everyday. She isn’t going to like being told that the man she thought was her father all these years really wasn’t.”
“He’s still the man who raised her. This news isn’t going to make her love him any less.”
“Of course not, but she’s going to be shocked no matter what is said. Adeline and her husband lied to Katey. And they’re both dead, so she would never have learned the truth. The Millards didn’t bother to tell her,” Anthony ended in disgust.
James harbored that same disgust. “Letitia Millard admitted that she barely let Katey in the door. Hell, she wasn’t going to let us in at all. Damned annoying, that closemouthed woman.”
They were both remembering the day they visited the Millards. They hadn’t spent more’n ten minutes in that house, and they’d had to barge their way in when Letitia herself answered the door that day. She’d tried to close it in their faces. And she’d absolutely refused to allow them to see her mother.
She did verify what she’d said in that note, that Katey was Anthony’s bastard, but they weren’t about to take her at her word. The woman was too angry. She’d gone red in the face at the mere sight of Anthony. And she’d been shrieking at them to leave. She didn’t even recognize James.
But James’s curiosity didn’t keep him quiet. He’d asked her directly, “What do you have against my family?”
Her reply had been “Who are you?”
“A Malory, whom you seem to despise.”
She’d merely snorted and called for her servants to toss them out, an attempt that had ended rather abruptly with the footman sprawled on the floor and the butler running in the opposite direction.
They’d had to push their way past Letitia again to get upstairs to find her mother. She kept shouting that her mother wasn’t well enough to deal with them. Unfortunately, she’d been telling the truth about that.
The room smelled of medicine, candle smoke, and sickness. It was closed off; even the draperies were drawn tightly shut. And the old lady in the bed seemed unconscious rather than asleep. A young maid sat beside the bed knitting. She didn’t seem all that concerned over Sophie’s condition, but then some servants didn’t care about their employers, with one job being as good as the next.
Letitia had followed them upstairs, of course. Still furious at them and her impotence at being unable to prevent their intrusion, she had at least stopped shouting.
“Don’t wake her. She’s had this cold for a week now. She’s not strong enough to fight it off.”
Letitia whispered that information in a hiss. It was apparent that she loved her mother, but also that she was overprotecting her. Which was understandable. In her mind, Sophie was all she had left. But love could be smothering, too, and being entombed in stuffy darkness went much too far in that direction.
“Fresh air would be more beneficial, don’t you think?” James remarked.
Letitia wasn’t open to suggestions from them. “Fresh air is too chilly this time of year.”
“Light isn’t,” Sophie Millard grumbled from the bed.
Letitia was quick to say in a defensive whine, “The dark helps you to sleep, Mother, and sleep will help you to get better.”
“I’ve had too much sleep, and too much smoke from these candles. If it’s day, give me some light.” She motioned for the maid to open the drapes. “I’d like to see who my visitors are.”
The old lady didn’t sound as if she were at death’s door. But she was obviously sick, her voice gravelly from too much coughing. And she was pale, which the light revealed as the young maid did as she was told. But they weren’t there to tire her out. If Letitia could have been believed, they wouldn’t even have come upstairs. But Letitia’s anger and lack of welcome put anything she said in a doubting light. And it wasn’t going to take much to get the verification they’d come there for.
Anthony had come to the same conclusions and got right to the point. “It’s been many years, Lady Sophie, but perhaps you remember that I was courting Adeline before she left England twentysome years ago.”
The old woman squinted her eyes at him before she said, “You have a very memorable face, Sir Anthony. Very memorable. Is that what you were doing?”
“Excuse me?”
“Courting my daughter? The rest of my family were under the impression that your intentions weren’t the least bit honorable, that you were merely amusing yourself with her.”
Anthony had turned a little red in the cheeks. But since he had gone on to be quite a notorious rake, he was in no position to address the insult even if the accusation in this case was far off the mark.
He merely said, “I had hoped to marry her.”
James’s own impatience had kicked in by then, his curiosity for once running rampant. Anthony might have been reluctant by then to burden a sick woman with unpleasant memories, but James wasn’t. He’d been about to ask the question himself, but it wasn’t necessary.
“I see,” Sophie had said, her tone as well as her expression turning sad. “Then perhaps you will like to know that she bore you a child.”
“I’d already told him that, Mother,” Letitia was quick to complain. “He wouldn’t believe me.”
Sophie had sighed but replied with disapproval, probably not for the first time, “Your attitude, Letty, leaves room for doubt.”
James almost grinned but restrained himself. Anthony, having just heard it repeated and able to believe it this time, that Katey was his, was in shock again.
But he reined in his emotions enough to say, “Thank you, Lady Sophie. I hope you’ll be feeling better soon. Perhaps we can then discuss this in greater detail.”
“I will look forward to it, Sir Anthony.”
They had allowed Letitia to push and pull them out of the room after that. And she told them on the way back downstairs, “Don’t come back. Those memories just make her unhappy. She doesn’t need that at her age.”
They didn’t reply. They had the answer they’d come for, but Katey wasn’t aware of that information yet. She hadn’t questioned Anthony’s remark that they were there to collect her. She’d simply come aboard The Maiden George and had thus far remained in the cabin she’d been shown to. She hadn’t yet asked why they had come to fetch her. She seemed angry and preoccupied with Anderson and was stewing over it privately. But she’d probably get around to asking before the day was out.
James supposed he could wait till then, to find out how his brother handled that question, and how his new niece responded to the answer. Not for a moment would he admit that he was just a little bit nervous over her reaction. So he could imagine how Anthony was feeling.
Both her parents might be English, but Katey had been born and raised in America, after all. And even though James had been married to one for eight years, the thought processes of Americans still boggled his mind sometimes. Bloody hell, quite frequently, actually. So it could well turn out that Katey wouldn’t like being part of the Malory family.
Hard to imagine, yet still possible. Particularly since Boyd Anderson had siblings firmly rooted in the family now, and Katey rather obviously still hadn’t forgiven Boyd for treating her like a criminal. Or had he incurred her rage for some other reason now? That wouldn’t surprise James. The Yank was a hothead, after all.
Chapter Forty-Three
FEELING BETTER?” Grace asked, poking her head around the door.
“I wasn’t sick,” Katey said.
“No, but you were in that ‘don’t say one word to me’ mood you’ve developed lately,” Grace humphed. “I recognize the signs by now.”
Grace herself was in a complaining mood, quite understandably.
Earlier when Katey had found Grace on The Oceanus, Grace had yelled at her, “You were on a picnic! You couldn’t tell me before you left? I had to hound the captain for an hour before he could be bothered to explain your disappearance.”