me.”
“Markham slapped ye?” Toby’s fists clenched.
Emmeline grabbed hold of Toby’s hand. “’Twas only a slap, and I provoked him with my demands to play his lute.” See where her thirst to display her talent had gotten her? Her mother had been right, emotions were a bad thing. Twice tonight an excess of emotions had gotten her into trouble.
“I don’t care if Cedric did try to steal the Wait from him, Markham’s got no cause to take his grievances out on ye.”
“Life is rarely fair. And Cedric’s antics would try a saint Now, how are we going to capture Lord Jamie? Oh.” She straightened on the cask she was using for a stool. “I should have gone with him as he asked. ‘Twould have been easy to—”
“Gone where?”
“Er, never mind that. I think I know how we can take him.”
He had tarried too long. Jamie strode quickly down the path toward the stables. Already the moon rode high in the starry black sky, and he’d have to set a merciless pace if he hoped to reach London before the tide turned. But his heart wouldn’t let him go till he’d danced with Jo, his mother and his aunts, and talked defensive strategy with his father and uncles. He’d left behind a few tears and lies that tweaked his conscience, but he could not even hint at the desperate odds he faced.
As he rounded the keep, he spied someone walking toward him. Hugh! ‘Twas like gazing into a mirror. Except that his twin didn’t have an eye patch. Hugh’s scars were more easily hidden.
“Jamie.” Hugh stopped a few feet away, his glance going first to that damned patch. “You are looking well.” So formal. So cold, but that was Hugh for you. Ice to
Jamie’s fire.
“And your limp is scarcely noticeable.”
Hugh glowered. “Only you would be crass enough to mention my crippled leg at all.”
“Why, when I am responsible for it? I thought we’d agreed I am crass and low.” They stared at each other like rival dogs sizing each other up, except they knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses all too well. He’d forgotten how eerie it was to look into a face so like his own, yet not. The absence of the black patch wasn’t the only difference. Though Hugh was tanned from riding over the estate, his skin lacked the burnished glow Jamie had acquired from years at sea. Hugh’s chin was a little softer, no doubt because he’d stuck it out less often than Jamie had his. And his eyes were colder, his mouth unsmiling.
“You’ve come home, then,” Hugh said.
“But not to stay, so you can lower your hackles.”
“Harte Court is yours, after all.”
“True, but you’d not be pleased if I did decide to claim the estate you’ve sweated over these past years.”
“Tis yours by right of birth.” He looked grim, yet determined to do the honorable thing and step aside, if that’s what Jamie wanted. Hugh had not changed one whit.
“If not by deed.” Jamie held up his hand to forestall Hugh’s rebuttal, the bitterness so acrid he nearly choked. “I have not returned to take up the mantle I tossed you when I rode away.”
“I do not understand how you can turn your back on this.”
Because I owe you. The silence deepened.
“Where are you bound this time?” Hugh asked at length.
“To sea. I’m patrolling the coast in hopes of encountering French spies.” That, at least, was the truth.
“If the king succeeds in negotiating a peace treaty, such measures won’t be necessary.”
Jamie snorted. “The treaty could be a trap.”
“I…I agree ‘tis risky to trust the French,” Hugh said slowly. “But surely the hope of peace is better than war. Harte Court does not lie very far north of London and would doubtless be pillaged by the French if they invaded.”
“I would hate to see that happen, but—”
“I’ve done all I can to keep us safe,” Hugh said earnestly, and began detailing all the precautions he’d taken, from building new storage buildings inside the castle walls to hold more foodstuffs to arming and training the villeins to defend the lands around Harte Court.
Jamie could well imagine similar efforts going on throughout the country. The knowledge that such measures would, at best, only slow the advance of the well-armed French, strengthened his determination to see his own plans through. “You are a fool to trust the French to negotiate in good faith.”
Hugh stiffened. “How like you to want a war. To you, life is one long adventure. You were always charging into danger.”
“And dragging you after me.” Jamie fingered the patch. If he hadn’t gotten angry, hadn’t issued that stupid challenge, neither of them would have been maimed. “You saved my life that day.”
Hugh looked away, a muscle in his jaw jumping. “If I’d been closer…if I hadn’t hesitated.”
“You saved my life,” Jamie repeated, conscious this was the first time they’d discussed the fateful attack that had changed their lives so drastically. “And I know you’ll do your best for Harte Court.” He smoothly changed the subject. “I understand you are to be congratulated on your future marriage.”
Hugh shrugged. “’Tis an advantageous match. Did Papa tell you she is Neville’s daughter, and her lands—”
“Bother her lands, do you love her?”
“Love?” Hugh blinked. “What has that to do with it?”
“Everything.”
“To you, mayhap,” Hugh said stiffly. “You’ve fallen in love with every girl you saw from the time you were ten and five.”
“Ten and three,” Jamie amended, chuckling. “’Twas the rope dancer at the London fair, and she taught me such wonders.”
“You’ve lusted after low women ever since.” Hugh’s lip curled. “’Twas your duty to wed well and breed up heirs.”
Jo was right, their brother was a sanctimonious prig. “You are my heir, Hugh, and I’m well pleased to keep things that way.” His throat tightened as he realized this might be the last time he saw his family. “Take care of things here,” he said hoarsely. “If Harte Court is threatened and you need me, send word to the Killigrews at Arwenack in Cornwall.” ‘Twas as much of his whereabouts as he dared give out. Only a few people knew where he was and, of those, even fewer knew what he was really about. “Tanner, my agent at the docks, can dispatch a ship.”
“Do you really think the French will come?”
“Tis the moment they’ve waited for. A chance to repay us for the humiliating defeats they suffered at the hands of King Edward and The Black Prince. So long as they believe we are weak and
