Free How to Be a Proper Lady: A Falcon Club Novel by Katharine Ashe

foolish defiance still burned as though she had insulted him personally. He must dampen that anger before approaching her again.
    He lifted a spoonful of stew. “Thinking about what, Bill?”
    “ ’Bout them rebel Scots we chased in the North Sea. And that boy we brung home afore that, from Spain.”
    Jin swallowed the flavorless goo and took another bite. Best to get it over with swiftly, as he should be dealing with Miss Viola Carlyle. But he had not counted on her outright refusal.
    He should have. He realized that now.
    “Have you?” he murmured.
    “That’s right, sir.” Billy dropped a whole unpeeled potato into the pot and stirred. “Didn’t see a lick of swag from them, though the gover’ment paid us all nice like. But I been wondering what we done them missions for.”
    For justice. To help those in desperate straits. To serve the crown. In service to the Falcon Club.
    Nearly two years ago he had set aside the work of that exclusive club and set out to find a missing person whose family had long since presumed her dead. All but her sister. But Serena Savege did not know of his mission, nor did Alex. He had not told them.
    “We did those missions because His Majesty asked it of us, Bill.” The partial truth was better than none. Perhaps he should have given Viola Carlyle only the partial truth. Perhaps he still had leeway to invent another story, one that would convince her of the wisdom of his intention.
    No. He had spent far too many years of his life embedded in lies. He would not begin that again now, especially not with a lady, no matter how hardheaded.
    He swallowed the remainder of his stew and set the bowl on the counter.
    “Enjoy the grub, sir?”
    “No. But you are doing a fine job of pretending to cook.” He patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Bill.”
    The lad’s face broke into a toothy grin. “Welcome to it, Cap’n.”
    “Billy.”
    “Welcome to it, Master Jin.” The lad winked.
    Jin scanned the cannons and nodded to the sailors on the gun deck, then climbed the sagging companionway to the main deck. Atop, he halted. Beneath sails filled to capacity, Viola Carlyle sat at the forecastle surrounded by sailors and backed by a vibrantly blue sky and foam-tipped sea. Before her, a quartet of men stood in a perfect line, singing.
    In the middle of the day. Flying at ten knots on a following sea.
    Singing.
    To her.
    The song was unremarkable, a well-used chantey, though this time in impressive harmony. She obviously approved. She had pushed her hat back on her brow, revealing most of her face. She smiled, resting her gaze upon each singer in turn with appreciation, sun sparkling in her dark eyes.
    For a moment, Jin could not move, restive heat tugging at him. In four days of barely glimpsing her he had simply not allowed himself to think about how pretty she was.
    Clearly her men were thinking about it now. The gaze of each singer, and that of every other sailor sitting about her, was pinned to her. Nearly forty men sat rapt by their captain as the ship cut across low swells, bobbing forcefully yet nevertheless speeding on, apparently manned by ghosts.
    The song came to an end, she lifted her hands to clap, and the sweetest, richest laughter came to him upon the wind. Beautiful laughter, full of fresh delight and incautious pleasure. Sailors stomped their approval on the boards. But Jin could hear only her.
    Then her gaze shifted aft and came to him, and all sign of her enjoyment died.
    Jin’s lungs tightened, his breaths thin. Even scowling, she enticed. She allured as she threw out spikes and he wanted to take her down beneath him and strip the displeasure from her eyes and replace it with eager compliance.
    Which he could not do. Not in the manner he wished.
    She broke the gaze. He strode forward, the dispersing sailors making way for him. The singers clouted each other on the backs, offering congratulations and looking smug. With sweet smiles and dulcet tones she doled out praise