The Guise of a Gentleman (Rogue Hearts)

by Hatch, Donna

  The boy solemnly shook his hand, and Jared marveled at the child’s soft, smooth hands, so unlike José’s.

  “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, young Master Berkley,” Jared said. “How old are you?”

  The flaxen-haired child puffed up his chest. “Just turned seven, sir.”

  “Ah. Growing well, I see.”

  A slow smile spread over the child’s face. “Are you a pirate?”

  Jared’s heart stopped. What about him could have given that away?

  A small laugh escaped Mrs. Berkley, and Jared could only gape at the lovely sound.

  With a charming blush touching her cheeks, she hastened to explain, “He’s been reading stories about pirates, and it’s his dream to meet one. I thought he understood how vile they are, but he seems to have become somewhat confused by the lessons he’s supposed to be learning. I apologize if his question offends you.”

  Finding his breath and coaxing his heart to restart, Jared held back a sigh of relief. He lowered himself to his haunches in front of young Colin and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I used to be a pirate, you see, but I realized the error of my ways and have reformed.”

  Admiration shone in the boy’s face.

  “You oughtn’t encourage such a fantasy, Mr. Amesbury,” Mrs. Berkley scolded gently.

  “What makes you think I’m untruthful?” He grinned.

  She glanced at him from under lowered lashes, no doubt remembering his attire the first time they met and assessing the possibility he might be telling the truth. “You being a pirate would explain your rather extraordinary situation the first time we met.”

  Jared laughed uneasily and was suddenly glad for the cravat and all it symbolized. “That would be an explanation, but I assure you I am merely a gentleman with a far less nefarious past. However, any woman with a double-barreled rifle is clearly no one with whom a pirate would dream of tangling.”

  “You should be grateful I have such an unfashionable skill with firearms,” she said a bit testily.

  “Oh, indeed I am grateful.” He grinned wickedly, secretly relieved he’d managed to change the topic. “If I have failed to express it to you, I am certain I can think up another way to show you.”

  With a blush, she took a step back. Then a gleam entered her eye. She glanced up at the church and said in a falsely sweet voice, “Then if you’re so grateful, are you going to church?”

  Jared froze. Go to church? Clearly, she was testing him. “Of course I’m going to church. I never miss a Sabbath.” He looked up at the imposing structure and wondered if lightning would strike before or after the walls came down. Unable to resist, he glanced at the boy. “All reformed pirates go to church.”

  With an uncertain smile, she led the way up the stairs toward the open doorway.

  Colin turned around “So were you a pirate, or not?”

  Jared winked and laid a finger over his lips with a meaningful glance at Mrs. Berkley.

  Colin smiled broadly and fell back a step. “Were you the captain?” he whispered.

  Jared nodded once.

  Rapture overcame the child’s face. Jared hoped such an innocent would never have an opportunity to learn the truth about real pirates who were nothing like the romantic heroes of the stories this boy no doubt heard.

  “I’m learning to fence,” Colin whispered. “I can fight with you if your ship gets boarded.”

  Jared nodded solemnly. “I can see you’d be a good man to have in a fight, but I told you I’m reformed.”

  Colin’s enthusiasm fell. “Oh, right.”

  Jared paused inside the doorway to allow his eyes to adjust to the gloom. When they were in the midst of plundering a ship, he and his crew wore a patch over one eye so when they ventured into the darkened hold, they could switch the patch to the other eye and see with the eye that had already adjusted to darkness. It came in handy for dispatching foolish lurking heroes bent on protecting the ship’s stores.

  Without the eye patch to aid him, he waited and blinked while Mrs. Berkley settled her son in a pew. Half-amazed that the building still stood and hadn’t been blackened by lightning, nor had the walls tumbled around them, Jared hesitated in the aisle.

  As a child, when he went to church with his family, they’d had their own family pew. Where did newcomers sit?

  In an act of pity, Mrs. Berkley scooted over and patted the bench next to her.

  Gratefully, he took a seat at her side, sitting close enough to feel the warmth of her body. Her subtle perfume wafted past him, and he inhaled deeply. “Thank you.”

  A faint smile tugged at her rose-petal lips, but she turned her head forward, leaving him to admire her profile instead.

  Her small, upturned nose resembled a child’s, but her lush, full lips reminded him of how soft and pliant they had grown with his mouth upon them. Her kiss had been hesitant, inexperienced, but full of yearning. He ached to possess them again and taste their promising sweetness. Had she truly been celibate during her widowhood? If so, she was either refreshingly pure or totally devoted to her late husband. Either way, his chances with her remained abysmal.

  He refused to admit how much that bothered him.

  Mrs. Berkley wore a guarded expression but little Colin peered at him, wide-eyed and curious.

  Jared winked at the boy and smiled at the mother.

  She pretended not to notice, but her lips twitched. Mesmerized by that full, almost pouting mouth that called to him like the lure of a siren, although hopefully not so deadly, Jared stared. After she shot him a warning glance, he swallowed and pretended to study the stained glass windows.

  The next hour reminded Jared why he hadn’t spent much time in church. As the vicar droned on, Jared alternated between wondering what kind of money any number of expensive items in the church would bring to his crew, and attempting to keep his thoughts pure about the enticing Mrs. Berkley. Surprised his evil musings failed to call down the wrath of heaven, he wondered if he’d ever enter a church without fearing he’d rock the walls. He squirmed.

  At the conclusion of the service, Jared offered his arm to Mrs. Berkley. She hesitated, glanced at her son’s beaming face, and relented. Jared’s chest swelled as he escorted the lovely lady down the aisle and back outside. He paused to greet the vicar who heartily welcomed him, and moved into the sunshine.

  Colin looked up at him. “Mr. Amesbury, do you like to fish?”

  “I do, young Master Berkley. I spent much of my childhood dangling my legs in the pond catching fish.”

  “We have a lake. There’s some really big fish there.”

  “Caught any?”

  “The ones I catch are usually too small. I throw them back.”

  “I’d wager you will catch the big ones someday.”

  “I wish you could fish with me. Mother does sometimes, but she doesn’t like the worms.”

  Mrs. Berkley smiled sheepishly.

  The boy went on. “Mrs. Robbins hates to go. Sometimes the gamekeeper takes me, or the cooper, but they haven’t much time. Perhaps you could?”

  Jared glanced at Mrs. Berkley, but she only appeared amused, not guarded. He looked down at the lad. “I’d love to fish with you. But you must ask your mother first before you extend any invitations, agreed?”

  Mrs. Berkley glanced at him in surprise. Jared almost quipped that he might appear to have the manners of a savage, but he actually understood social customs and courtesy. Whether or not he chose to remember them was an entirely different matter. Mrs. Berkley looked Jared in the eye and smiled brilliantly.

  Jared nearly fell to his knees.

  He’d never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. The curve of her mouth and the tiny dimple that appeared mesmerized him. More astonishing was the pleasure in her expression. She seemed perfectly at ease, her smile genuine. That she would be looking at him and smiling seemed too good to be true.

  As she turned her focus to Colin, tenderness and affection crept over her face.
Deep inside his long-silenced heart, an awakening stirred.

  “You have my permission to invite Mr. Amesbury to fish with you, Colin,” she said.

  Amazed she appeared to have changed her opinion of him, at least to some degree, Jared managed a slight bow. “I’m honored you would trust your beloved child to my care. And I promise not to corrupt him with my former pirate ways.” He knew she would believe him to be joking, only feeding the child’s fantasies, but he enjoyed seeing the glimmer of doubt.

  He nearly smacked his own forehead. What was he thinking? He must keep his aristocratic role in place if he hoped to succeed.

  Jared straightened, adjusted his demeanor. “I look forward to it, young sir,” he said with all the formality of a duke at court. He escorted the lady and her son to their waiting carriage. He handed them in then executed a proper bow. “Good day, Mrs. Berkley.”

  Her gaze lingered, probing, but Jared remained respectful and aloof, the perfect English gentleman. He smiled, careful to do so without any trace of impudence or rakishness, and then walked away. He felt Elise Berkley’s gaze upon him, but he continued on to his own carriage.

  José, taking to his new role as a tiger, greeted him with a wide grin as he leaped down from the carriage where he’d been holding the reins. “Purty lady, hey, Cap’n?” He sobered instantly and ducked his head. “Sir. Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again, sir.” The boy clamored back to his place behind the seat.

  “I know it won’t, José.” Jared snapped the reins and guided his team out onto the street. He glanced back at the Berkley carriage as it drove off in the opposite direction.

  Jared ground his teeth. Staying focused normally presented no challenge for him. Why did he find it difficult to do so in her presence? Most of the flirtations in which he’d indulged had been either to further his disguise or to glean information. He seldom indulged in casual physical relationships; he couldn’t afford to take the risk of inadvertently revealing his true purpose. Nor risk becoming emotionally attached.

  His enemies would not hesitate to exploit any vulnerability he revealed. And the results would be deadly.

  CHAPTER 5

  In Lily Standwich’s parlor bathed in sunlight, Elise sat surrounded by friends she’d known for years, her mind far away. While the ladies gossiped and enjoyed their tea, Elise remained silent.

  Something about Jared Amesbury did not add up. One moment, he seemed a heartless philanderer. The next, a perfect gentleman. Then a playful rogue peeked through that poised demeanor.

  That alone did not disturb her since many gentlemen had sides to their personalities they did not reveal to society. But underneath Jared’s practiced urbane boredom lurked wariness. Even when his stance appeared relaxed, he remained motionless, alert, watchful. He moved with silent, predatory grace, every motion of his body carefully calculated. He never made an unconscious move. Even his casual air seemed planned, as if he were a highly skilled actor playing a role.

  However, these impressions—gained yesterday while at church, and once during the dinner party at Lady Standwich’s home—were so fleeting that she could not be certain she hadn’t simply imagined them.

  And she still had failed to discover why she’d found him wearing the clothes of a common man, and even more peculiar, why he’d been in a noose. Despite her questions, she hadn’t obtained a satisfactory answer.

  But the intoxicating gratitude with which he had looked at her after she’d chased away his enemies—and his gentle, passionate kiss—continued to invade her thoughts with disturbing frequency. And his behavior since that day did nothing to lessen her response to him. If anything, it increased.

  Lily’s voice drew her in and Elise realized the ladies were discussing the very object of her thoughts.

  “I understand Mr. Amesbury was in the war,” Lily said, “but I forget if he served in the navy or aboard a privateer. He has traveled extensively since the war ended.”

  “My husband said he was unequaled in the hunting party last week,” Mrs. Hogan said.

  Mrs. Carson giggled. “He probably boxes, as well. He’s as large as a pugilist.”

  Lily took charge of the conversation again. “His elder brother has assumed the role as head of the family while their father convalesces in Bath. The earl’s health has declined since his beloved wife’s death.”

  “My son went to Cambridge with a gentleman named Christian Amesbury,” Mrs. Hogan mused.

  Mrs. Standwich nodded. “That would be the youngest. In my opinion, Christian is the best of the very fine lot—the pride and joy of his parents. Also a gifted artist, although they hope he becomes a man of the church.”

  “What more do you know of his family?” asked Mrs. Hogan.

  Briefly, Elise wondered if Mrs. Hogan’s question stemmed from her interest in Mr. Amesbury as a potential son-in-law. Had he given her any reason to think he might consider courting her daughter?

  That Jared Amesbury might be turning one of those ready, lazy smiles upon Miss Hogan—or anyone else, for that matter—left her strangely unsettled.

  “I hadn’t seen Jared Amesbury since his childhood, but I’ve endeavored to welcome him here for his mother’s sake. Lady Tarrington was one of the dearest ladies I’ve ever known. The world is a darker place without her.” Lily punctuated her statement with a firm nod.

  Elise looked up. “Lady Tarrington. I believe I met her once.” A vague memory arose of a kind lady with rich, dark hair.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if you met her when you were in London. Everyone adored Lady Tarrington. Hostesses considered their soirées and musicales successful if the Earl and Countess Tarrington attended.”

  “I wonder if Mr. Amesbury is a church-going man,” mused Mrs. Hogan.

  Elise answered, “Apparently, he is. Colin and I met him on the steps.” She smiled at the memory of her son’s adoring gaze and Mr. Amesbury’s indulgence. “My son reads stories about pirates and is fascinated with them. He asked Mr. Amesbury if he were a pirate.”

  Gasps and laughter followed her statement.

  “I was a bit embarrassed by his impertinence,” Elise admitted.

  “Was Mr. Amesbury insulted?” asked Mrs. Hogan.

  Elise almost laughed. “No. He took it all in good humor. He even played along with Colin and said that he was a pirate formerly, but had seen the error of his ways and reformed.”

  Mrs. Carson leaned in, her eyes sparkling. “He did? Hmm. He does have an unrestrained grin that makes one imagine all those years abroad have been spent in piracy.”

  Exclamations of mingled shock and delight followed.

  “Oh, good heavens! You’ve been reading far too many novels, Frederica,” scolded Lily.

  Mrs. Carson only smiled smugly. “You did say he’d been at sea. Privateering and piracy are very close, you know.”

  Elise interjected hotly, “Except that one is honorable, in defense of one’s country, and the other is disgraceful and vile.”

  Apparently pleased with her wildly overactive imagination, Mrs. Carson ignored Elise. “I wonder how many women he’s compromised. I might not resist if he tried to compromise me.” She giggled again.

  “Frederica, shame on you,” Charlotte Greymore scolded.

  But the young woman looked satisfied rather than contrite. Mrs. Carson’s husband was at least forty years her senior; perhaps she had unfulfilled fantasies. But that did not excuse her wanton suggestion. Or the ridiculous idea of Mr. Amesbury as a pirate.

  Elise’s thoughts drifted back to the first time she’d met Jared Amesbury. Dressed as he had been that day, he’d certainly dressed the way she’d imagined a pirate would. And the way he’d drawn her to him and took command of her mouth … a delicious ripple shuddered her body. She chastised herself. There could be any number of explanations for his odd apparel. And for the rough men who’d captured him and threatened him and the boy. And the unusual nature of his dangerous predicament.

  Her heart stalled. He had told Colin he was a reformed p
irate.

  Immediately, she dismissed the thought. Clearly, he had made that claim to feed a little boy’s imagination out of a sense of playfulness in reply to Colin’s question. She recalled his concern and affection for the child who’d been with him the first time she’d met him. Few men she knew showed such fondness toward children. He had certainly made a fast friend out of Colin. She’d never heard of a pirate possessing a shred of compassion or decency. Even the legendary Sir Francis Drake was reported to have been thoroughly ruthless.

  And the tales of cruelty and torture committed by the new scourge of the seas, Black Jack, made her shiver. He’d committed all manner of murder and mayhem over the last three or four years, at least. Mr. Amesbury couldn’t be that vile.

  “Mrs. Berkley? Elise?”

  Elise blinked. Every eye on the room observed her in curious silence. She swallowed. “I beg your pardon?”

  Mrs. Carson tittered. “Dreaming of pirates demanding your virtue?”

  “Frederica, really!” Lily fixed a look of remonstration, but Mrs. Carson did not have the grace to look contrite.

  Charlotte turned to Elise. “We’re having a riding party on the morrow, if you care to join us.”

  Elise asked, “Should you ride in your present condition?”

  “Oh, my time is months away. Still, I’ll ride slowly, never above a walk,” Charlotte said. “Will you come?”

  “Certainly I will.”

  Lily looked smug. “Excellent. Then we’ll have an even number.”

  Elise stiffened. “Are you inviting several men in need of wives, perhaps?”

  “Oh, it will be a very mixed group, I assure you.” Her twinkling eyes belied her benign tone and Elise inwardly groaned.

  “If Mr. Amesbury has been a sailor, he might not be much of a rider,” suggested Mrs. Hogan.

  “If memory serves, he went to sea at the age of thirteen or fourteen,” Lily said. “Adequate time to learn to ride well before he departed.”

  “I imagine he excels at everything,” Mrs. Carson tittered. “And I’m sure he was properly trained in horsemanship in his youth, even if he’s been at sea all these years, plundering and compromising—”