Melville nodded, his expression grim. “Yes. We stopped at the Admiralty on the way here and found one of our clerks had been ambushed in the lane behind the mews. De Caen beat him badly with his cane. The chap’s got a few broken ribs, but he’ll live.”
“Thank goodness. When he said he’d ‘persuaded’ someone to reveal who Crusoe was, I thought he might have killed him.”
“I should have hit him harder.” Morgan glowered. “And wrecked hisotherknee.”
“He’ll look back on your beating with fondness, I expect, when his countrymen get hold of him,” Melville said darkly. “I doubt he’ll have much fun in a French prison.”
“It’ll be a taste of his own medicine,” Morgan said with satisfaction. “He’ll be lucky if nobody flogs him and throws him into solitary.”
Harriet winced at the reminder of how Morgan himself had suffered. She crossed to the counter and gathered up the map De Caen had annotated.
“I believe this, if used in conjunction with a Crusoe map, will show where he buried the gold meant for Bonaparte.”
Melville folded the paper and slipped it into his coat. His eyes twinkled mischievously. “No need to tell the French about this particular development, hmm?”
Morgan chuckled. “Not until we’ve made a copy, and got a head start, at least.”
“We’re not at war with France anymore, gentlemen.” Harriet shook her head, not sure whether to disapprove of or condone such shameless maneuvering.
Neither of them looked the least bit abashed.
“Of course we’re not,” Melville said smoothly. “Which is why His Majesty’s government will be extremely sympathetic if the goldhappensto have disappeared by the time the French arrive.”
“Amazing how many pirates there are in those waters,” Morgan echoed drily. “All manner of disreputable characters.”
“Precisely.” Melville beamed.
Harriet shook her head.
“It seems your country owes you another debt, Davies,” Melville said. “And you, too, Harriet. Rest assured, I’ll let Prinny know who to thank for putting De Caen behind bars.”
“Thank you, sir.”
An outraged bellow sounded from the carriage as De Caen made his displeasure known, and Melville sighed. “Well, must be off. I trust you’re both coming to Anne’s little gathering next week?”
Harriet nodded. Melville climbed into the carriage and the two of them watched in silence as it rumbled away down the street.
Finally, Morgan turned to her. “I assume, since you’re a Montgomery—and therefore incredibly stubborn—that a man has to do more than simply bash down a door, extinguish a burning man, and shield you from a bullet in order to prove his love.”
Harriet met his eyes. “Well, as to that, I—”
“No.” Morgan raised his hands as if to ward her off, even though a smile lingered at the corners of his mouth. “I know you and your ridiculously high standards.Normalheroism isn’t enough. You need something extraordinary.”
“I really don’t—”
“You really do.”
Her heart turned over at the look in his eye. It was amused and loving, wicked and sexy, all at the same time.
“Mister Montgomery?” He raised his voice so it carried to her father in the next room. “Before all this excitement, I’d planned to take your daughter on an outing. There’s something I wanted to show her. Something I hope she’ll like.”
Father appeared in the doorway and sent Morgan a level stare. The fact that he couldseethem, from right across the room, was a miracle Harriet hadn’t yet fully accepted.
“I thought you were going to Maddie’s house?” Father frowned.
“It’s next door,” Morgan said.
“But it will just be the two of you? Unchaperoned?”
