Deception Read Free

eyed his expensive boots with a speculative glance. Then their eyes slid upward to the knife strapped to his leg and higher still to the black patch over his eye.
    No one rose to follow Jared outside.
    The breeze off the sea stirred Jared’s long, untrimmed hair as he stepped out into the night. Unlike Wingfield, he was dressed for the warm climate. He wore no neckcloth. He detested neckcloths and cravats. The collar of his finely woven cotton shirt was open and the sleeves were rolled up on his forearms.
    Jared started along the stone quay, his mind on the business at hand, his senses attuned to the night. A man who had lost one eye had good reason to take care of the other.
    A lantern bobbed at the far end of the quay. As Jared drew closer he watched two men step out of the shadows. Both were big, nearly as tall as Jared, and almost as wide across the shoulders. Their rough-hewn faces were framed by silvered whiskers and manes of white hair. They walked with bold, swaggering strides even though each was past sixty. Two aging buccaneers, Jared thought, not without affection.
    The first of the two men hailed Jared with a smile that gleamed in the shadows. The color of the older man’s eyes was washed out by the moonlight, but Jared was quite familiar with the unusual shade of gray.
    He saw the same color in the mirror every morning when he shaved.
    “Good evening, sir,” Jared said politely to his father. Then he nodded to the other man. “Uncle Thaddeus. A fine night, is it not?”
    “About time you showed up.” Magnus, Earl of Flamecrest, beetled his brows. “I was beginning to think your new acquaintance was going to keep you talking for the better part of the night.”
    “Wingfield is very fond of conversation.”
    Thaddeus hoisted the lantern higher. “Well, lad? What did ye learn?”
    Jared was thirty-four years old. He had not considered himself a lad for many years. In fact, he often felt aeons older than anyone else in the family. But there was no point correcting Thaddeus.
    “Wingfield believes he has found Claire Lightbourne’s diary,” Jared said calmly.
    “Bloody hell.” The satisfaction in Magnus’s face was plain to read in the glow of the lantern. “So it’s true, then. The diary has finally been found after all these years.”
    “Damme,” Thaddeus exclaimed. “How the devil did Wingfield get to it first?”
    “I believe it was his niece who actually located the volume,” Jared said. “You will notice it was found here in France. My cousins were obviously wasting their efforts two months ago when they went chasing off into the hills of Spain to look for it.”
    “Now, Jared,” Magnus said soothingly, “Young Charles and William had good reason to believe it had been taken there during the war. You’re just a mite annoyed with your cousins because they got themselves captured by those damn bandits.”
    “The entire affair was something of a nuisance,” Jared allowed grimly. “Furthermore, it cost me nearly two thousand pounds in ransom money, not to mention a great deal of time and effort spent away from my business affairs.”
    “Damnation, son,” Magnus roared. “Is that all you can ever think about? Your business affairs? You’ve got the blood of buccaneers in your veins, by God, but you’ve got the heart and soul of a tradesman.”
    “I’m well aware that I’m something of a disappointment to you and the rest of the family, sir.” Jared leaned on the stone wall that fronted the harbor. “But as we’ve discussed the matter on several previous occasions, I do not think we need go into it again tonight.”
    “He’s right, Magnus,” Thaddeus said quickly. “Got more important things to deal with at the moment.
    The diary is practically in our grasp. I say we have at it.”
    Jared arched one brow. “Which of you made an effort to have at it last night? Wingfield says his room was searched.”
    “It was worth a try,” Thaddeus said, unabashed.
    Magnus nodded.