voice had suddenly turned cool. He wasn't in the habit of arguing with ladies.
"Perhaps Miss Blythe could wait in the carriage when we board the ship, my lord," the elderly official politely interposed. The set expressions on the lord's and lady's faces presaged a lengthy disagreement. "It would be safer, my lady, with a felon on board. We'll require an escort to bring in this Horton fellow to the authorities," he added. "I'll need fifteen minutes to assemble the guard. Would that be satisfactory?"
He was a diplomat, with the art of compromise wel l honed in his years of authority at a port dominated by English traders.
She would have appeared childish to refuse. "Yes, of course," Serena said.
"We'll need a man left at the carriage as well," Beau declared.
"Certainly. Could I have coffee brought for you in the interim, or perhaps ginja?"
"No," Serena abruptly said, chafing at what she considered Beau's ill-advised autocracy.
"Yes, please," Beau replied, his tone cordial.
But when the door closed behind the harbormaster, Beau came to his feet and fixed a cool gaze on her. "This Horton fellow has killed a ma n — a nd very brutally." His voice was brusque. "I don't know why you insist on coming along. Be sensible, stay here."
"It's broad daylight, Rochef o rt," Serena impatiently retorted, her annoyance no less than his. "The docks are abuzz with people. You be sensible. And surely now that I'm relegated to the carriage with a guard," she went on, a touch of acid in her tone, "I should be subject to a minimum of danger."
He shifted on his feet, his temper held tightly in check. "I'm surprised you kept your position for four years, Miss Blythe," he crisply said. "You're very outspoken."
"It appears you're only familiar with women saying yes to you, milord. However, you have no authority over my life. As for my position at the Tothams', I wasn't halfway to Florence at the time, nor so full in the pockets." Her smile was oversweet. "For both of which I thank you."
A muscle twitched along his clenched jaw. "You could thank me with some obedience."
Her brows rose. "Is that what you want in a woman? I'm surprised. I rather thought you liked more spirit."
"Jesus, Serena," he murmured, exhaling in a long, low sigh. "We're getting way the hell off tangent here. The man's a brute. Let's not argue about this."
"I should simply acquiesce, you mean." Her voice was equally soft. "Even if I disagree."
"It's only a precaution."
"Then maybe it's not necessary."
"This is senseless." Each word was staccato blunt. "I don't know why I'm even discussing this with you."
"If it bothers you to have a woman not utterly docile to your will, I could book passage on some other vessel now that we're in port," she rashly said.
"Really," he murmured.
Claspin g her hands in her lap, she straightened her shoulders and looked up at him with an uncompromising gaze. "You doubt it?"
"Yes:"
"You certainly are plain, Rochefort," she coolly said. "Am I your prisoner until Naples?"
"At least until Naples," he drawled.
"I think not," she snapped, thin-skinned and touchy, not inclined to take orders from anyone now that her independence was restored. "This very polite harbormaster will no doubt grant me asylum from your unwelcome designs."
He stood very still, his dark eyes half-shuttered. "I doubt it, but you could try."
"How ominous that sounds. What exactly would you do to keep me?" she sardonically inquired. "Tie me to your bed?"
"That won't be necessary." He smiled faintly. "My uncle heads the embassy here."
"I see." Her voice was scarcely above a whisper. She knew the British embassy was one of preeminent power in an economy dominated by British trade. "In that case," she went on, forcing herself to speak in a normal tone, "maybe I should tell him you kidnapped me."
"I think Re m y might dispute that. He was witness to your, ah, willing involvement," Beau silkily murmured.
"Damn you!" she hotly exclaimed, glaring at him. "Maybe I'm no
"Perhaps Miss Blythe could wait in the carriage when we board the ship, my lord," the elderly official politely interposed. The set expressions on the lord's and lady's faces presaged a lengthy disagreement. "It would be safer, my lady, with a felon on board. We'll require an escort to bring in this Horton fellow to the authorities," he added. "I'll need fifteen minutes to assemble the guard. Would that be satisfactory?"
He was a diplomat, with the art of compromise wel l honed in his years of authority at a port dominated by English traders.
She would have appeared childish to refuse. "Yes, of course," Serena said.
"We'll need a man left at the carriage as well," Beau declared.
"Certainly. Could I have coffee brought for you in the interim, or perhaps ginja?"
"No," Serena abruptly said, chafing at what she considered Beau's ill-advised autocracy.
"Yes, please," Beau replied, his tone cordial.
But when the door closed behind the harbormaster, Beau came to his feet and fixed a cool gaze on her. "This Horton fellow has killed a ma n — a nd very brutally." His voice was brusque. "I don't know why you insist on coming along. Be sensible, stay here."
"It's broad daylight, Rochef o rt," Serena impatiently retorted, her annoyance no less than his. "The docks are abuzz with people. You be sensible. And surely now that I'm relegated to the carriage with a guard," she went on, a touch of acid in her tone, "I should be subject to a minimum of danger."
He shifted on his feet, his temper held tightly in check. "I'm surprised you kept your position for four years, Miss Blythe," he crisply said. "You're very outspoken."
"It appears you're only familiar with women saying yes to you, milord. However, you have no authority over my life. As for my position at the Tothams', I wasn't halfway to Florence at the time, nor so full in the pockets." Her smile was oversweet. "For both of which I thank you."
A muscle twitched along his clenched jaw. "You could thank me with some obedience."
Her brows rose. "Is that what you want in a woman? I'm surprised. I rather thought you liked more spirit."
"Jesus, Serena," he murmured, exhaling in a long, low sigh. "We're getting way the hell off tangent here. The man's a brute. Let's not argue about this."
"I should simply acquiesce, you mean." Her voice was equally soft. "Even if I disagree."
"It's only a precaution."
"Then maybe it's not necessary."
"This is senseless." Each word was staccato blunt. "I don't know why I'm even discussing this with you."
"If it bothers you to have a woman not utterly docile to your will, I could book passage on some other vessel now that we're in port," she rashly said.
"Really," he murmured.
Claspin g her hands in her lap, she straightened her shoulders and looked up at him with an uncompromising gaze. "You doubt it?"
"Yes:"
"You certainly are plain, Rochefort," she coolly said. "Am I your prisoner until Naples?"
"At least until Naples," he drawled.
"I think not," she snapped, thin-skinned and touchy, not inclined to take orders from anyone now that her independence was restored. "This very polite harbormaster will no doubt grant me asylum from your unwelcome designs."
He stood very still, his dark eyes half-shuttered. "I doubt it, but you could try."
"How ominous that sounds. What exactly would you do to keep me?" she sardonically inquired. "Tie me to your bed?"
"That won't be necessary." He smiled faintly. "My uncle heads the embassy here."
"I see." Her voice was scarcely above a whisper. She knew the British embassy was one of preeminent power in an economy dominated by British trade. "In that case," she went on, forcing herself to speak in a normal tone, "maybe I should tell him you kidnapped me."
"I think Re m y might dispute that. He was witness to your, ah, willing involvement," Beau silkily murmured.
"Damn you!" she hotly exclaimed, glaring at him. "Maybe I'm no
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