Caroline knew that gossip could spread faster among servants than even the ladies of theton. But she’d also learned from experience that servants’ gossip often had more truth to it. “What are the servants saying?”
Elle hesitated and then blurted, “They say that Lord Kendrick has something to do with the pirate raids. That Lord Tisdale said one of the marquis’s boats was seen at the last raid and that Lord Kendrick was seen talking to one of the pirates.”
It was a good thing she was sitting for Caroline’s stomach sank to her toes with awhooshthat also took the air out of her lungs. This was even worse than Tisdale’s bragging about marriage to her. He was spreading rumors meant to endanger Stephan.
The blasted earl had probably told her father the same lies. That would explain why he showed up at the boat after having been told that the prince approved the dinner arrangement.
The prince. If the prince were to hear—or believe—such nonsense, there was no telling what he would do. She would have to warn Stephan of this latest development, but the Pavilion was not the place to do it with far too many ears, including the servants’. She didn’t think she could get to the boat again without alerting anyone. She certainly didn’t want a repeat of what had happened tonight, nor would she have any explanation as to why she was alone with Stephan on his boat if she were caught.
Caroline set her jaw. She would find a way.
…
“Are you preparing to come about?” Brice asked Stephan as theLady’s jib began to ruffle, slowing their speed. He reached for the sail’s sheet to loosen it. “I did not hear the command to tack.”
“No. Sorry. Just a bit too close hauled,” Stephan answered and inwardly cursed. This made the third time today he’d brought the bow of his boat nearly dead center into the wind. The first thing any green sailor learned was point-of-sail and wind direction. He moved the tiller marginally toward himself until theLadymade an adjustment of three degrees off the wind and the sail filled again.
He needed to concentrate on sailing and not Caroline Nash, if he were going to win the regatta. And it looked to him more and more that he wouldhaveto win. After Caroline’s father showed up with Tisdale at his boat last night, Stephan wasn’t too sure Sir Reginald wouldn’t back the earl’s stupid wager that the winner also win Caroline. Nor did Stephan entirely trust Prinny not to agree to that outcome, either. Although Caroline had reached her majority and couldn’t beforcedto marry, openly defying the prince regent had its repercussions. The best way to put an end to the matter was towin. Unfortunately, the new design of Tisdale’s boat made her built for speed, so Stephan needed to use every bit of sailing skill he had. And that meant paying attention to what he was doing.
As they passed a marked buoy, Brice made a notation in the small notebook lying on the bench beside him and then tightened the sheet around the winch slightly.
“How much time did we lose on my mistake?” Stephan asked.
“Not quite a quarter knot,” Brice answered.
“Damn it.”
Brice glanced at him. “The same thing could happen if we hit a wind pocket.”
Stephan grimaced as he thought of the obstacles the gods of the sea occasionally tossed at sailors to test their skills. The areas of dead air caused a boat to lose momentum and be in-irons, which meant the crew was doomed to wait for a gust to get moving again. The nuisance could usually be discerned by the flat surface of the water and avoided, but altering the boat’s course took time. And time was of the essence in a race. “A quarter knot might as well be ten ifLady’s bow doesn’t cross the line first.”
“We can do it,” Brice answered, “especially now that we found and fixed the loose winches. Tisdale will be counting on the fact that those will slow us down.”
Stephan nodded. “I hope Eric is waiting for us on the dock when we get back in. I will feel better knowing the boat is being guarded around the clock.”
“Newhaven is not that far away.” Brice grinned. “Knowing Eric, he will be eager to check out Brighton’s tavern wenches, not to mention turning the heads of the entire array of ladies’ maids available.”
While he would ordinarily agree with Brice’s assessment—he’d seen firsthand how Eric’s Viking looks and brawn affected females—Stephan doubted that would be the case this time. The missive he’d sent instructed Eric to sendWave Riderand her crew back to Whitstable. Eric would know it was code not only for the schooner to disappear from the local waters, but also that he would not be captaining her. He would understand the unwritten message that he was needed here. Nothing stirred his Nordic blood more than danger and adventure, not even women.
“I thought turning women’s heads was your job,” Stephan said, switching the subject.
Brice’s grin widened. “I am doing my best, but there is an ample supply of lovely selections. I would hate to leave any of them wanting.”
Stephan arched a brow. “You are admitting to leaving femaleswanting?”
“No, no.” Brice assumed an affronted expression. “I would never leave a womanwanting.”
Stephan allowed his mouth to quirk. “I will rest easy, knowing you have not lost your touch.”
“Never. Variety is the spice of life and all that.” Brice gave Stephan a questioning look. “But I fear you are the one who has lost interest in variety.”
Stephan opened his mouth instinctively to deny such a thing and then clamped it shut. Why bother to deny the truth? The night he’d stopped Caroline’s carriage posing as the marauder had pretty much taken the wind out of his proverbial personal sails, and the kiss they’d begun to share last night made him think it wouldn’t be bad to get stuck in irons at all. He’d be happy to linger in that windless pocket for hours with Caroline.
“I admit I have lost interest in casual trysts.”
“I never thought I would hear those words coming from you.” Brice shuddered. “I never expected the same from Alex, either.”
Stephan shrugged. “More ladies for you then. We leave all of them in your capable hands.”
