Free Her Favoured Captain by Francine Howarth Page A

sure yon page attending to the victim of loss, is not a girl?”
       “Rosy cheeked, quite pretty for
a boy, but a boy nonetheless,” she said, confident in her judgement of gender.
       He laughed. “One glance is
sufficient to claim the page a boy?”
       His mocking tone gave rise to
wariness. Perhaps Lt Herne was more astute than she’d given him credit for.
“If, as you are suggesting, this notorious jewel thief is a woman, are you of
mind she masquerades as a man?”
       Seeming unwilling to avert his
eyes from the bevy of women gathered about the victim of theft and that of the
host Lady Hamilton, he said, “Quite possible, do you not agree?”
       She almost laughed. “The very
thought is most amusing, but unlikely.”
       He swung round again, hands
behind his back as though standing commandingly on the quarterdeck of his ship,
those damn delectable eyes levelling on hers: searching, but for what?
       “Come dear lady, I can see why
a man might indulge in a little amour to afford the chance of relieving a
salacious lady of her valuables, but where would a man hide his booty and the
lady unsuspecting of any thing untoward thereafter?”
       “A pocket. Where else?”
       If only she could read his
thoughts, instead she centred attention upon his animated kissable mouth to
evade eye contact.
       “True, but if the man had an
accomplice, a lady . . .”
       “ Accomplice ?” she said,
breath catching in her throat. “Would such not appear rather obvious?”
      “I think not. The victim and her
young admirer happened to be in a darkened corner, and I passed by unnoticed.”
       “Yes, but an accomplice would
have to make contact with the thief.”
       “In passing, admittedly, but I
swear the very devil could have brushed past unnoticed, for the lady was
utterly enamoured by the young man’s attentions.”
       “You have pockets,” she
charged, determined to throw him into the frame of suspicion. “And men of
military disposition are swift and slick in movement, are they not?”
       “Indeed, and should you care to
afford a quick glance at gentlemen within this room, save those in military
dress, you will see few have pockets upon their silk coats, their kerchiefs
tucked to sleeve.” He chuckled, that oh so husky chuckle again, which caused a
frisson of pleasure to ripple down her spine. “A lady on the other hand . . .”
His eyes drifted to the cleft of her breasts. “Yes, a lady could slip a
necklace down into her bodice and no one any the wiser.”
       She sensed a flush to her
cheeks, his eyes boring into hers and it was time to change the subject, but it
was changed for her. Lady Hamilton called to her, and she slipped away from Lt
Herne. “Therese, darling, would you do me a great favour? Would you be so good
as to take Mrs. FitzroyPalmer up to the second floor, along with her page? I’ll
join with you, directly, as soon as I’ve made apology to our most esteemed
guest Horatio Viscount Nelson.”
       As it happened, the esteemed
gentleman came forth, and said, “Your ladyship, William has instructed the
doors to be closed and is at this very moment in the process of checking the
guest list. No one shall be allowed exit until every guest is accounted for.”
       Emma smiled her eyes fixated on
Nelson, and oh dear, Lt Herne it seemed had guessed right, for there was
sincere sense of intimacy between Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton: Emma’s response
quite telling. “Am I to presume it was at your suggestion the doors were to be
closed?”
       “It seemed eminently sensible
in the circumstance of valuable jewels stolen from under our very noses,’ said
Nelson, his eyes not leaving Emma’s. “It is the practise aboard ship for a
lockdown if theft of Admiralty property occurs.”
       “I thank you most
affectionately,” said Emma, her face all flushed eyes sparkling. “What would we
do without you?”
       Therese clutched Mrs.
FitzroyPalmer’s