Chapter Thirty-Four
JACQUELINE DIDN’T ASK, DIDN’T need to. No one was aboard other than Jeremy and Percy that Damon would call “our guests.” He’d tied off the wheel and escorted her to the cabin so she could have her bath and prepare herself—hours before dinner. Did he think she was like other debutantes who spent all day primping for an event? Did he even know any other debutantes? She’d laughed anyway, couldn’t help it, she was so excited.
Damon arrived first near the dinner hour with a full bottle of brandy in hand, but paused to sweep his eyes over her and the deep rose gown she’d picked for the occasion. He might have ordered her clothes in the right sizes, but he hadn’t specified debutante colors to the dressmaker.
“Magnificently feminine again.” He grinned. “But I confess I was getting used to your shapely britches.”
“The dress was your idea.”
“Not for me, but for your friends.” He put the bottle on his desk, then continued on to his clothes chest and donned a black jacket. With his white shirt and black trousers, and his black hair still wind-tossed about his shoulders, he looked rather dashing.
He moved back to his desk but merely leaned against it, his eyes moving slowly over her again. “And thank you for ignoring the evening gown. I’m not sure I could have survived that one.”
She blushed slightly since she knew what he was referring to. The single evening gown in the trunk would have revealed far too much bosom, which she wasn’t willing to share with him.
Percy came through the open door next. She was pleased to see him looking splendid, though definitely rumpled with no valet to attend to his attire, the same attire he’d been wearing in London. At least the wrinkles in his clothing indicated that he and her brother had been allowed to wash their clothes from time to time.
With a slight bow to Damon, Percy quipped, “My condolences, Captain Reeves.”
“For?” Damon asked.
Percy gave Jack a quick hug before stating, “For the day her father gets his hands on you. Brutal with his fists, unparalleled with a pistol. I daresay you won’t—”
“I get the idea,” Damon cut in drily.
Jacqueline, frowning over what Percy had just called Damon, said, “You told him your last name but you wouldn’t tell me? Or is that not your real name?”
“It is now.”
She rolled her eyes at Damon’s cryptic reply. Typical name-changing pirate, she guessed. But then Jeremy arrived, and even though he looked hale and hearty, she still started crying as she ran to put her arms around him, careful not to squeeze hard in case his ribs were still sore. He’d left his wrinkled jacket behind in his cabin. His hair was loose and so much longer that now he looked more the pirate than a London gentleman.
Jeremy whispered to her, “Is our presence the result of your trying the Reggie approach? Or because he came by last night and saw that my bruises have faded?”
“He was using your wounds as an excuse to keep me from actually seeing you.”
“Ah, so that’s why he said you won’t cry now when you see me. Well, you weren’t supposed to.” Jeremy chuckled, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“It’s such a relief to see you’ve recovered, Jer.”
But behind them she heard Damon say, “That settles that, brother after all. I’m glad to see we can dispense with the lies.”
She swung around. “So you were just humoring me by not calling me a liar?”
“I did want to applaud a few times because you delivered your lines so well, Jack. But be easy. Nothing has changed other than this is a night for truths. Shall we?” Damon waved a hand toward the table and walked over to it.
Jack turned back to Jeremy first and gave him a significant look, saying softly, “I had hoped we could take the ship from him and sail home, but that was before I saw how many men are on it.”
“I’d rather continue on to save Father, but what truths is he talking about?”
“I don’t know, but he’s implied we’re not here for the reason we think.”
Jeremy chucked her chin with a grin. “Then let’s hear him out and play it by ear.”
She nodded and took her usual seat at the table. Jeremy and Percy sat on the sides nearest her, which left Damon isolated at the other end. But he hadn’t sat down yet. He went to the door to signal they were ready for the meal.
Jackie had the help of two sailors tonight in bringing everything in. A bottle of wine, glasses, four plates filled with food, and a tray of desserts. Four? Jack realized that Mortimer wasn’t coming to help keep the peace. No doubt guards were standing outside the opened door to do that. Then Damon closed the door and took his seat. He was obviously confident that he could manage all three of them if it came to that, which was possible considering how damned strong and fast he was. Then again, he could simply be armed. A single pistol would stay their hands.
“Any relation to the East Sussex Reeveses?” Percy asked Damon as Jackie filled his glass.
“It’s just a fake name, Percy,” Jacqueline put in.
“No, it’s my legal name,” Damon said. “It was a stipulation of my great-grandfather’s will that I take the family name to receive his estate. Yes, those Reeveses, Lord Percival.”
“Know the property, ’deed I do,” Percy mentioned. “Lovely location and quite large as I recall, though that was years ago. Went there as a child with my mum. Was there a title involved?”
“No, he was a second son. The titles are on my grandmother’s side. She’s the only relative I was able to locate while I was in England. Unfortunately, she’s quite tetched with the loss of her memories, doesn’t recognize her own servants, didn’t even remember her own daughter, my mother. And she swears she doesn’t have a grandson, so after my first visit with her I have been repeatedly turned away from the house that’s now mine. Quite frustrating.”
The wry smile had Percy say, “I had a great-aunt like that. She would fire servants just because she didn’t recognize them.”
“As does my grandmother.”
“Then how did you find out about the inheritance?”
“There was one old servant who’d been there long enough to know my mother and refused to leave when she kept getting fired. She despised me without reason and wouldn’t answer a single question I had about the family, but apparently, she sent word to the family’s solicitor to complain about my first visit, and he tracked me down.”
“Which begs the question,” Jeremy said drily, “if what you just said is true, what are you doing here on a pirate ship, working for a pirate, and abducting a young lady and two noblemen?”
“I’m temporarily committed to another path.”
Jacqueline waited for him to say more and was incredulous when he didn’t. “I could have sworn you said this was a night for truths.”
“The night is young.”
She probably looked as angry as she was at his evasion because Jeremy nodded toward the bottle of brandy on the desk, saying to Damon, “How about a drinking contest after dinner, mate? First man to pass out loses.”
“But you can’t be beat at that game, old chap,” Percy reminded Jeremy. “Everyone knows it.”
“He didn’t,” Jeremy growled at their friend.
Percy looked so abashed that Jack refrained from kicking him. Percy let information roll off his tongue without the first thought to consequences and always had. This part of his endearing charm was usually amusing—at least for anyone not keeping the secrets he inadvertently revealed.
Damon laughed at the byplay. “Just out of curiosity, what prize were you after, Malory?”
“Full freedom aboard your ship.”
“And the prize you were willing to offer me?”
Jeremy shot to his feet. “Not beating the living hell out of you.”
Damon didn’t stand up as well, but he did raise a brow. “So is that contest still on the table?”
“No, it’s not,” Jacqueline interjected sharply, and motioned to Jeremy to sit back down. “At least not tonight. Can we first hear why Damon invited you here?”
“Yes, you can,” Damon said. “We’re nearly to the Caribbean. I can no longer wait to form an alliance with the three of you.”