Free The Sandalwood Princess by Loretta Chase Page B

poor man had cried out to his papa.
    Some childhood terror must nave seized him. Amanda could understand that. She had her own nightmares. Everyone did. Yet her heart had ached at the pitiful pleas, and again later, when his eyes had opened. Horror lingered in those deep blue depths, and in the fleeting moment before he came fully awake, they’d seemed the innocent, terrified eyes of a little boy. She had wanted... really, how stupid. He was a grown man, and ill. He’d simply had a nightmare, or a hallucination brought on by exhaustion—or by whatever Padji had used on him.
    Mrs. Gales was saying something, and looking at her rather strangely.
    “I beg your pardon,” Amanda said. “I fear my mind wandered.”
    “I asked why you didn’t take the statue when you had the opportunity.”
    Amanda thrust the valet’s image aside. “Far too risky,” she answered. “Padji, Bella, and I are the only outsiders who’ve entered that cabin, which would make us prime suspects. The instant the theft was discovered, the commander would have to comb every square inch of the vessel. Eventually they’d find the statue, and then it would be only my word against Mr. Wringle’s that the Laughing Princess is rightfully mine.”
    The widow sighed. “I see. The captain would probably leave the matter to be settled in England, and…”
    “And the Juggernaut—Hedgrave—would crush me.” Amanda swallowed the last of her wine. “The task, you see, wants subtlety, cunning, and patience, at the very least. It wants the Falcon, actually, but as we haven’t got him, we shall have to make do with Padji.”
    ***
    “Beg pardon for mentionin’ it, guv, but a body’d think you was turnin’ into a fusspot is what,” said Jessup as he hauled himself up to a sitting position. “Ain’t the damned thing hid good enough? Don’t I have this here pistol under the pillow? Don’t I keep a sharp lookout the whole time the gal’s here? Not to mention which, they do say two’s company, if you take my meaning.”
    “You’re in no condition to dally with ladies’ maids,” Philip said. “And do I have to remind you the abigail belongs to the woman I robbed?”
    He’d already had an unsatisfactory discussion the day before with Bella, who’d taken umbrage at his offer to relieve her. Two months they’d been at sea, and Jessup, though still weak, was sufficiently alert to take note of his surroundings. That was the trouble. He’d taken note of the plump Bella—and she of him, evidently, for the two were at present behaving like a pair of moonstruck adolescents.
    All by himself, Jessup had contrived an explanation for his lowly speech and coarse manner, because, he said, he was tired of giving one-word answers. He had only to “confess” that Mr. Groves had exaggerated his position—he was merely a solicitor’s clerk. Bella would pass along the revelation. Thus, when Jessup at last became well enough to venture among the others, no one would expect anything but the common sort of fellow he was. Meanwhile, he wanted more privacy.
    “I ain’t like to forget when you call it to my attention every other word,” Jessup answered grumpily. “Like I ain’t been through half a hundred battles with you, not to mention we been through a deal worse since we left off soldierin’ for thievin’. Leastways in a battle, a fellow gets his leg shot off or his arm, or something clean-like. He don’t get poisoned and drove all the way to Bedlam and back with no hope of dyin’ and bein’ done with it.”
    When all else failed, Jessup was not above applying guilt. He was entitled, considering his master was to blame for his condition. The poison had so weakened Jessup’s constitution that many months would pass before he was his sturdy old self again. Now his employer wished to deny him the comfort of a woman: a plump, amiable maid with gentle hands and a soft, soothing voice.
    In jessup’s place, Philip would have wanted the same. Besides, this