Free Once Upon a Midnight Sea by Ava Bradley Page A

me as though he deserves to be where he is."
    She stared at him as though he were a cockroach scurrying across her polished deck. He fought the urge to slap that haughty look right off her face. She kept her back straight and her chin high. Those ice-blue eyes held fierce purpose.
    His patience had reached its end. "You look so foolish grasping at whatever excuses you can find. Your father isn't the saint he's convinced you he is."
    "If you truly wanted justice, you would have revealed him to the authorities, instead of robbing him."
    "Justice?" He took a step nearer, making her shrink away. The wheel spun as the waves took the ship. "My father was denied justice when he refused to name his accomplice. What should have been a ten-year punishment for robbery turned into a life sentence. The French government made an example of my father, because he refused to name yours!"
    Adriana sucked in her breath. That condemning expression changed to one of panic. Christian turned away and drove his fingers through his hair. This was futile. He would do best to stay as far away from her as the confines of the ship would allow.
    "How do you know this?" she asked in a soft voice. "If your father has been in jail all this time, how could you know any of this?"
    Her question should have angered him, but in her voice he now heard what might be pity. Maybe even compassion. He knew she didn't believe him and he wanted to hate her for it, but some deep-buried part of him was diffused by the tenderness in her voice.
    He strode to the railing and spoke with his back to her. "All these years I believed my father dead. Then a letter arrived, and I learned the truth." He turned back to face her. "The truth that you will soon believe, as well."
    * * *
    John Locke glanced at his new gold pocket watch for the third time as he saw his contact saunter through the pub's swinging doors. He was always late for their meetings. John knew the man didn't believe social consideration was required when dealing with someone of the lowest part of society, like him. Keeping him waiting was just another way to remind John who was in charge.
    The man glanced around as though offended by the establishment.
    John motioned to the bartender for another pint of ale as he mentally raised his price for this inconvenience. Soon, he wouldn't be so much lower at all.
    "I thought I told you to be discreet." In his voice was that snobbish lilt that set John's teeth on edge. The man stared down at the stool with distaste before finally deciding it was clean enough for his velvet clad derriere.
    "I'm just having a pint. Nothing unusual about that."
    "What was that shiny bauble you tucked back into your pocket when I walked in?"
    "Nothing that calls nearly as much attention as a bloke like you walking in to a pit like this."
    The man scowled. "Let us conduct our business and be done."
    John had intentionally seated himself at the end of the bar, as far from the door as possible. A few other patrons sat here and there in the pub, but no one would hear their conversation.
    "You've made a fine muck of things again."
    John tightened his grip on the glass. "'ere now, why say a thing like that?"
    "Because it is true," the man spat. He glanced around and lowered his voice. "First you shoot the old man before Adriana had married Preston–"
    "We been through all that," John growled. He was nearly at his wit's end. "What's done is done."
    "It isn't! If Edmund Montague dies, there is no one to ensure this marriage takes place."
    "He ain't going to die."
    He rudely flipped up a hand, continuing as if John hadn't even spoken. "She'll inherit everything and Preston will be left out in the cold."
    And you dandies wouldn't be so full of yourselves anymore, would you now ? John thought. More than once he'd considered offering what he knew to Edmund Montague for a price, but the righteous old man would never pay, and John had already received a right plum amount from this donkey's arse. Edmund didn't