The Gift (Crown's Spies #3)

The Gift (Crown's Spies #3) Page 30

That glum prophecy turned out to be true. After sending Sara with Nora and Matthew to get settled in Nora's house, Nathan went with Jimbo to explore the tiny village.

It didn't take Nathan long to agree that they'd have to sail to a larger port. According to the charts, the nearest supply port was a good two days away.

Nathan knew his wife wouldn't like hearing about his departure. On his way up the hill, he made the decision to tell her at once and get the inevitable scene over and done.

He was a bit surprised when he reached Nora's house. He'd expected to find a small cottage, but Nora's residence was three times that size. It was a large, two-story structure. The exterior was a pale pink. The verandah that circled the front and sides was painted white.

Sara was sitting in a rocking chair near the front door. Nathan climbed the steps and announced, "I'm leaving with half the crew tomorrow."

"I see."

She tried to control her expression. She was suddenly filled with panic. Dear God, was he going away on another raid? Nora had mentioned that her island home was close to the pirates' nest located just a little further down the coast. Was Nathan going to meet up with past associates and go on one last adventure?

She took a deep, settling breath. She knew she was jumping to conclusions, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"We have to sail to a larger port, Sara, in order to get the supplies we need to repair the Seahawk."

She didn't believe a word of that story. Nora lived in a fishing village, for God's sake, and the seamen would certainly have enough supplies on hand. She wasn't going to let Nathan know what she was guessing, though. When he was ready to tell her he was Pagan, he would. Until then she would pretend to believe him. "I see," she whispered again.

Nathan was surprised by her easy acceptance. He was used to arguing with her over every little matter. The change in her manner actually worried him. She had been acting peculiar all day long.

He leaned against the rail and waited for her to say something more. Sara stood up and walked back into the house.

He caught up with her in the foyer. "I won't be gone long," he told her.

She kept right on going. She'd reached the second story when he grabbed hold of her shoulders. "Sara, what's gotten into you?"

"Nora has given us the second chamber on the left, Nathan. I only packed a few things, but perhaps you'd better have some of the men fetch my trunk."

"Sara, you aren't going to be staying here that long," Nathan countered.

"I see."

And if you're killed at sea, she wanted to scream at him. What then, Nathan? Would anyone even bother to come back here to tell me? Lord, it was too horrible to think about.

Sara shrugged off his hands and continued. Nathan once again followed her.

The bedchamber assigned to them faced the sea. Twin windows were open, and the lulling sound of the waves slapping against the rocks echoed throughout the spacious room. There was a large four-poster bed situated between the windows with a lovely multicolored quilt covering it. A large overstuffed green velvet chair sat at an angle near the wardrobe adjacent to the door. The color of the drapes matched the color of the chair exactly.

Sara hurried over to the wardrobe and began to hang her dresses inside.

Nathan leaned against the door and watched his wife for a minute. "All right, Sara. Something's the matter, and I want to know what it is."

"Nothing's the matter," she said, her voice shaking. She didn't turn around.

Damn, he thought, something was certainly wrong, and he wasn't going to leave the room until he found out what it was.

"Have a safe voyage, husband. Good-bye."

He felt like growling. "I'm not leaving until tomorrow."

"I see."

"Will you quit saying I see?" he bellowed. "Damn it, Sara, I want you to quit acting so damned cold with me. I don't like it."

She turned around so he could see her frown. "Nathan, I've asked you countless times to quit using blasphemies in my presence because I don't like it, but that doesn't stop you, does it?"

"That isn't the same," he muttered. He wasn't at all irritated with her near-shout. The fact that she was getting her temper back actually pleased him. She wasn't acting cold or uncaring.

Sara couldn't understand why he was smiling at her. He looked relieved. The man didn't make any sense to her at all. Nathan had obviously spent one too many days in the hot sun.

A plan formed in her mind. "Since you like using blasphemies so much, I shall have to assume that you gain immense satisfaction when you use such ignorant words." She paused to smile at him. "I've decided I'm going to use sinful words, too, just to test this theory. I'm also going to find out if you like hearing your spouse talk so commonly."

His laughter didn't bother her at all. "The only foul words you know are damn and hell, Sara, because those are the only blasphemies I've ever used in your presence. I was being considerate," he added with a nod.

She shook her head. "I've heard you use other words when you didn't know I was on deck. I've also heard the crew's colorful vocabulary."

He started laughing again. The thought of his delicate little wife using foul words was extremely amusing to him. She was such a feminine thing, such a soft, sweet lady, and he couldn't even begin to imagine her using a crude word. It just wasn't in her nature.

A shout from Matthew stopped their discussion. "Nora's wanting both of you in the drawing room," he bellowed up the stairs.

"You go on down," Sara ordered. "I only have two more gowns to finish. Tell her I'll be right there."

Nathan hated the interruption. He had been thoroughly enjoying himself. He let out a sigh and started out the door.

Sara had the last word. Her voice was amazingly cheerful when she called out, "Nathan, it's a damned hot afternoon, isn't it?"

"Damned right it is," he called back over his shoulder.

He wasn't about to let her know he didn't like hearing her talk like a common wench. What Sara said to him in private was one thing, but he knew good and well she'd never use such blasphemies in public.

He was given a chance to put her to the test much sooner than he'd anticipated.

There was a visitor sitting beside Nora on the brocade settee in the drawing room. Matthew was standing in front of the windows. Nathan nodded to his friend, then strode over to Nora.

"Nathan, dear, I'd like to present the Reverend Oscar Pickering." She turned to her guest and added, "My nephew is the marquess of St. James."

It took all he had not to start laughing. The opportunity was simply too good to pass up. "You're a man of the cloth?" he asked with a wide smile:

Nora had never seen Nathan so accommodating. Why, he actually reached out and shook the vicar's hand. She'd thought he would be as ill at ease as Matthew. That poor dear looked as if he had a rash paining him.

Sara walked into the drawing room just as Nathan sprawled in one of the two chairs facing the settee. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and grinned like a simpleton.

"Oscar is the newly appointed regent for the village," Nora was telling Nathan.

"Have you known Oscar long?" Nathan asked before he spotted Sara standing in the doorway.

"No, we've only just met, but I did insist that your aunt call me by my given name."

Sara walked forward, then made a perfect curtsy in front of their guest. The new government official was a skinny man with rounded spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose. He wore a starched white cravat with his black jacket and breeches, and his manner was most austere. He seemed a little condescending to Sara, for his head was tilted back, and he was looking down through his spectacles at her.

He kept giving Nathan quick glances. There was a noticeable look of disdain on his face.

Sara didn't like the man one bit. "My dear," Nora began, "I would like to present—"

Nathan interrupted. "His name is Oscar, Sara, and he's the new regent for the village."

He'd deliberately left out mention that the man also happened to be the vicar.

"Oscar, this lovely young lady is my niece, and Nathan's wife, of course. Lady Sara."

Pickering nodded and motioned to the chair next to Nathan. "I'm pleased to meet you, Lady Sara."

Sara dutifully smiled. The man's spectacles must have been pinching his nose tight, she thought, as he had an unusually high, nasal voice.

"I should have sent a note requesting an audience," Pickering said, "but I happened to be out on my daily walk, and I couldn't restrain myself when I saw all the commotion going on up here. My curiosity, you see, got the better of me. There are several unsavory-looking men sitting on your verandah, Lady Nora, and I would advise you to have your servants chase them away. Mustn't mingle with the inferiors, you see. It isn't done."

Pickering frowned at Matthew when he made that last comment. Sara was quite astonished by the man's rudeness.

He wasn't as schooled as he'd have them believe, she knew, because he hadn't bothered to stand up when she'd walked into the room. The man was a fraud.

In her agitation she picked up a fan from the table, flipped it open with a flick of her wrist, and diligently began to wave it back and forth in front of her face.

"No one's chasing anyone away," Nathan announced.

"The men are part of the marquess's crew," Nora interjected.

Sara walked over to stand beside Matthew. It was a show of loyalty on her part, and Matthew's slow wink told her he knew what her game was. She smiled in reaction.

Then Nathan drew her attention. "My wife was just remarking on the heat," he drawled. His gaze was directed on Sara. His smile, she noticed, was devilish. "What was it you said, wife?" he innocently asked.

"I don't remember," she blurted out.

The look of satisfaction that came over her husband changed her mind. "Oh, yes, I do remember now. I said it was damned hot. Don't you agree, Mr. Pickering?"

The spectacles fell to the tip of the regent's nose. Matthew looked just as startled. Nathan, she noticed, had quit smiling.

Sara sweetened her smile. "The heat always gives me a hell of a headache," she announced.

She added up the reactions once again. Matthew was looking at her as though he'd only just noticed she had more than one nose on her face.

Her dear husband was glaring at her. That wasn't good enough. She was after total defeat, and with it the promise that he would never use foul words again.

She prayed Nora would be understanding when she explained her shameful conduct. Then she let out a loud sigh and leaned back against the window ledge. "Yes, it's a real pisser today."

Nathan bounded out of his chair. Like a man who'd just heard a foul suggestion and couldn't quite believe it, he demanded that she repeat herself. "What did you just say?" he roared.

She was happy to accommodate him. "I said it's a real pisser today."

"Enough!" Nathan shouted.

Matthew had to sit down. Nora started in coughing in a bid to cover her laughter. Mr. Pickering was out of his seat and hurrying across the room. He clutched a book in his hands.

"Must you leave so soon, Mr. Pickering?" Sara called out. Her face was hidden behind the fan so he wouldn't see her smile.

"I really must," their guest stammered.

"My, you're in a hurry," Sara said. She put the fan down and started for the foyer. "Why, you act as though someone just kicked you in the—"

She never got in the last word since Nathan's hand suddenly covered her mouth. She pushed his hand away. "I was only going to say backside."

"Oh, no you weren't," Nathan countered.

"Sara, whatever in heaven's name came over you?" Nora called out.

Sara hurried over to her aunt. "Do forgive me. I hope I didn't upset you overly much, Nora, but Nathan does like to use crude words, and I thought I'd give it a try. I didn't particularly care for this new government official anyway," she confessed. "But if you wish it, I will of course chase him down and apologize."

Nora shook her head. "I didn't like him either," she admitted.

Both ladies were pretending not to notice that Nathan was standing in front of them. Sara scooted a little closer to Nora. She felt as if she were going to be pounced on at any moment.

She didn't care for that feeling at all. She cleared her throat in a nervous action but valiantly held onto her smile when she said "What was that book I noticed in Mr. Pickering's hands? Did you lend him one of your novels, Aunt? I don't believe I'd trust him to return it to you. He doesn't seem the reliable sort at all."

"It wasn't a novel he was carrying," Nora said, her smile gentle. "It was his Bible. Oh, heavens, I really should have explained much sooner."

"Explained what?" Sara asked. "Do you mean to tell me that condescending man carries a Bible around with him? If that isn't hypocritical, I don't know what is."

"Sara, most of the clergy do carry Bibles."

She was slow to catch on. "Clergy? Nora, you told me he was the newly appointed regent."

"Yes, dear, he's a government official, but he also happens to be the pastor of the only church in the village. He stopped by to invite us to attend his Sunday services."

"Oh, my God." After wailing out those words Sara closed her eyes.

No one said a word for a minute. Nathan continued to glare at his wife. Sara continued to blush, and Nora continued to struggle not to laugh. Then Matthew's deep voice broke the silence. "Now that, Lady Sara, is a real pisser."

"Watch your mouth, Matthew," Nathan ordered. He grabbed hold of Sara's hand and pulled her from the settee.

"I can just imagine what the topic of his sermon is going to be come Sunday," Nora announced. She started laughing, and within a flash she needed to mop the tears from her cheeks. "Oh, Lord, I thought I'd die when you so casually remarked—"

"This isn't amusing," Nathan interjected.

"Did you know?" Sara demanded at the same time.

Nathan pretended ignorance. "Know what?"

"That Pickering was a man of the cloth?"

He slowly nodded.

"It's all your fault," Sara cried out. "I never would have disgraced myself if you hadn't prodded me. Now do you understand my point? Will you quit using blasphemies?"