pleasant enough when there’s nothing better to do,’ Dulci teased knowingly.
‘Is there usually something better to do?’ Jack challenged with a grin, liking the way her smile lit her face when she teased him, liking the confident, bold way she flirted. But he had to tread carefully here. Dulci could not be handled like the experienced married women of the ton. She was far finer than that and she’d expect far more than they if he led her down that path.
‘There was today.’
‘No more dangerous wagers in the moonlight, I hope.’
What he really hoped was that she hadn’t spent any more time with Calisto Ortiz. He knew, of course, where Ortiz had been later in the afternoon, but that didn’t preclude Ortiz having made an earlier call. From what Jack witnessed of the man on two occasions now, he wanted Ortiz as far from Dulci as possible.
‘This morning I worked with my fencing instructor.’
Jack’s eyebrows rose slightly at this. They rose further after the next pronouncement.
‘Then, this afternoon, I picked up some new additions to my collection of artefacts from the new world. Your part of the world, actually. Somewhere near Venezuela, or maybe Guiana.’
‘What collection is this?’ An alarm rang somewhere deep inside him at her reference, but it would be premature to jump to conclusions.
Dulci’s excitement was evident in the sparkle of her eyes as she explained. ‘Zemis, tribal fertility fetishes and other assorted items of interest. They’re from the Arawak tribes.’
Alarm was no longer premature. The Arawaks lived on the south-eastern border near the Essequibo River. His well-trained face must have betrayed him momentarily because Dulci peered at him sharply.
‘Have I shocked you?’
Very little shocked Jack after his travels. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be terrified. His mind rushed to assimilate the information. This was far worse than his earlier concern over her involvement.
Last night he’d merely been concerned because she’d become a bystander who could be implicated, someone known to all three men: she was a woman in whom Ortiz was showing marked interest; she was the woman Gladstone had once aspired to marry; she was someone he’d paid recent social attentions to and that could put her at risk by association once Ortiz worked out his interest in the Venezuelan delegation. If Ortiz chose to strike out, Dulci would be a likely target.
But now her eccentric hobby had suddenly catapulted her into the forefront of the action. It begged the question whether Brandon had any idea what Dulci did with her time; first fencing and now this gadding about town collecting artefacts that were most likely stolen.
Was this merely coincidence or did Dulci actually possess the cargo Ortiz had been searching for? The dance was ending, but he could not return her to her court without knowing more. A strong urge to possess and protect her surged. He told himself the feeling was out of a sense of duty. With Brandon absent from town, it was his job to act as a surrogate protector. His more honest side didn’t accept that lie for a moment. Something far deeper was at work here and it scared him.
‘I had no idea your interests ran in that direction,’ Jack said benignly, subtly ushering her towards the verandah.
‘I have you to thank for my interest. After your work with Schomburgk, I turned my attentions from the Egyptian excavations to the New World. After all, these artefacts are from living tribes. They’re clues to a way of life that is taking place right now, not thousands of years ago. I find that much more fascinating. I see you’re surprised. There’s a great deal you don’t know about me, Jack.’ Dulci laughed up at him, but not unkindly.
‘Then tell me more,’ Jack flirted, the coldness receding a bit. He was back in control now. He had a strategy. He would take her outside and quiz her thoroughly until he had his answers, kiss them out of her if need be. He’d probably kiss her anyway whether he needed to or not. ‘Where did you come by these artefacts?’
‘A Spanish importer named Vasquez has been supplying me with items over the past two years.’
A new type of alarm coursed through Jack, not all of it having to do with his concern over the current situation. Good lord, didn’t the woman know the risks? Didn’t she realise how easy it would be to buy stolen goods? The Americas were rife with men of questionable repute who looted tribal grave sites or stole religious icons from the natives in the hopes of selling them back home to unsuspecting purchasers.
Those were the honest men.
The dishonest men simply passed off imitations and forgeries as the real thing.
‘I hope you’re careful, Dulci,’ Jack said. ‘There are men who’d take advantage of a woman in that market.’
Dulci’s reply was glib and self-assured. ‘Oh, I am careful, I always take my gun.’
Jack gripped Dulci’s arm, fear returning anew. ‘Your gun? Where do you go?’ He hadn’t meant his comment in that way. He’d meant it as a warning about the quality of goods she was dealing with. But now, his concern grew exponentially. Clearly this Vasquez did not call safely at her home with his wares.
‘To the wharves, of course, Jack.’ Dulci fixed him with an incredulous look. ‘Where else does one retrieve goods from ships?’
Oh God, oh God, this was getting worse by the moment. ‘And today, Dulci? Did you go to the docks today? Where?’
Dulci’s brow furrowed in puzzlement. She pulled her arm away. ‘What is this, Jack? You didn’t even know I collected until a few moments ago and now you’re suddenly full of chivalrous concern for my well-being. I’ve been doing this far longer than you realise.’
It would do no good to worry Dulci. He’d be unable to tell her anything useful if she asked and that would only serve to anger her. Jack shrugged and dispatched a quick half-truth. ‘There’s been some concern about activity at the docks lately, that is all. It’s been rougher than usual.’
‘I went to Southwark and all was fine. Although I will admit that it was a section that was more run down than the usual areas I frequent. The artefacts are splendid. Their arrival is quite timely with the Venezuelan delegation in town. I am looking forward to showing them to Señor Ortiz. He may know something more about them than what I can find in the libraries. I want to write an article for the Royal Geographic Society about them.’
No! All of Jack’s instincts rebelled at the notion of Dulci showing Ortiz. But he could not overtly steer her away from the man without raising suspicions or looking like a jealous suitor. Neither was an appealing prospect. Well, he’d just have to get there first.
‘I’d like to see your collection. I can serve in Ortiz’s place. Perhaps I’ll recognise some of the items and be able to shed some further light on them. I have an inspiration—let’s take a night off from all this social whirl. I’ll call tomorrow evening after dinner. We can fence and I’ll tell you if your instructor is any good. Afterwards, we can go over the collection.’
It was an audacious request. A gentleman never called on a lady at such a time and Jack was inviting himself. If it had been anyone else, his intentions would be clear. But Dulci was also a family friend. He was trading on that connection quite liberally with the request.
‘Do
