Prize of My Heart by Lisa Norato Page B

curiosity held her tongue, and Lorena found herself listening with piqued interest. It seemed the direction of Brogan’s upset had turned to something other than George’s rude intrusion.
    “Privateering is an unscrupulous business,” the shipwright announced, his guilt confirmed. “And a letter of marque does not make you any less a freebooter.”
    Brogan placed himself in George’s face and snarled, “Then it was you who likened me to a pirate to Drew? Did you not tell him I was no more than a thief? Who are you to speak critically of me to others and especially to an impressionable young boy?”
    George snickered, unaffected. “You don’t fool me, Captain Talvis. Here I find you trying to beguile an innocent girl, and you pretend to be angered over my comments to a child. Why such concern for Drew? You may be able to charm Lorena, but you cannot deceive me any sooner than you can catch a weasel asleep. In my opinion, you are no better than a pirate!”
    Brogan’s jaw clenched. The cords in his neck bulged. “I don’t give a wooden cent for your opinion, Mr. Louder. Besides, you’d be surprised at how well I can catch a weasel.”
    “The devil take you first,” George spat back.
    For all George’s priggish ways, it took pluck to fling insults into the face of such a large and formidable foe. Pluck or ignorance, Lorena thought sadly, then started anxiously as, like a thread pulled taut, Brogan’s control snapped and he exploded with a fist to George’s angular jaw that sent the shipwright crashing into the wall.
    Lorena shrieked in horror, and as Brogan advanced again, she stepped in between them. “Don’t you dare! Only yesterday you greeted each other in a house of God. Captain, I allow you are a passionate man whose emotions dwell close to the surface, but I do not condone fighting any more than I care for George’s contempt.”
    Brogan glanced past her to sneer at the master shipwright as though he were something quite foul.
    George stepped forward rubbing his jaw. He had provoked the argument with his harsh words, and Lorena turned her disapproval on him with a glare. “Whatever your personal views, George, privateering is an accepted practice in times of war. You judge Captain Talvis unfairly, and not as a matter of morality but because you are jealous of his association with me.”
    “Do you not see, Lorena? He doesn’t care about Drew. He’s merely pretending in order to have the advantage with you.”
    “Shut your foul trap,” Brogan growled. “You know nothing of what I feel.”
    Lorena found her growing appreciation for Brogan blurred by confusion. To her, the severity of his emotion seemed irrational. Rage brewed beneath his rigid exterior when annoyance would have sufficed. What consequence was George’s prejudice and poorly concealed envy to a man who’d been hailed in the papers as a hero? To a man who had won the approval of Duxboro’s citizens and had just lately received their cheers and congratulations? And yet Brogan was vehement.
    “What exactly are you feeling, Captain?” she challenged. It was as though being called a pirate to Drew had ignited such a rage within him, Brogan lost all control. “Am I correct in assuming there is more going on here than the fact that George happened upon us alone?”
    Moving to the open doorway, she turned to flash the shipwright a cold stare. “Come, George. For your own sake and on behalf of my father, I feel a responsibility to see you removed before you insult his client further. In which case I do not know that I can trust Captain Talvis not to retaliate again.”
    George made to hurry her out the door. “And so I’ve been trying to tell you, Lorena.”
    “Wait.” Brogan eyed her, incredulous. “You defended me and yet . . . you are leaving . . . with him ? None of what he says is true, Lorena. Don’t let this fool’s chatter sway you. We’ve done nothing here to be ashamed of.” He held out his hand to her.