Guardian Angel - Garwood Julie - Страница 84

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Everyone stared at the pistol until Sterns broke the silence again. He addressed his remarks to Richards.

"I believe I overheard you suggesting the pistol be aimed at Lady Jade's shoulders, or was I mistaken?"

The laughter was deafening. Jade stood at the door, the urn in her hands while she waited for the men

to calm down.

She then poured Sterns his tea, put the urn on the sideboard, and returned to her seat. She noticed the pistol in the center of the table, but when she asked what it was doing there, she couldn't get a decent answer. The men had all started laughing again.

No one would explain. Jade guessed someone had told a bawdy jest and they were too embarrassed to share it with her.

Jade was ready to return to their plans. Caine surprised her by suggesting she return to her room.

"Why?" she asked. "I thought we were going…"

"You need to pack your things," Caine said.

Jade nodded. "You just want to tell more of your jests," she announced before she took her leave.

They were all smiling at her like happy thieves looking over their booty. She didn't know what to make

of that. The two guards were waiting for her in the foyer. They helped her carry the gowns Sterns had placed in Caine's wardrobe down to her chambers, then waited outside in the hall while she packed.

When she was finished with her task, she sat down by the window and began reading the book she'd

only half finished two nights ago.

A short time later, there was a timid knock on the door. Jade closed her book and stood up just as Black Harry came into the room.

She was clearly astonished to see him. Her uncle was carrying a dozen long-stemmed white roses.

"These are for you, girl," he announced as he shoved the bouquet into her arms.

"Thank you, Uncle," she replied. "But what are you doing here? I thought you were going to wait for

me at the cottage?"

Harry kissed her on the top of her head. "You look fit, Pagan," he muttered, completely ignoring her question. "Caine should be wearing my clothes this proud day."

"Why should Caine wear your clothes?" she asked, thoroughly confused now. She'd never seen her

uncle act so nervous. He looked terribly worried, too.

"Because my shirt is the very color of your pretty gown," Harry explained.

"But what does…"

"I'll be telling it in my own good time," Harry blurted out. He hugged her close, squishing the flowers in the process, then stepped back. "Caine asked me if he could wed you, girl."

Harry took another precautionary step back after making his announcement, fully expecting an explosion. He got a dainty shrug instead. He noticed, though, that she was gripping the flowers tightly. "Watch for thorns, girl," he ordered.

"What did you tell him, Uncle?" she asked.

"He asked me real proper," Harry rushed out. "I could have had him down on one knee," he added with

a nod. "He said he would, if it be needed to win my permission. He said it loud and clear right in front of me men, he did."

"But what did you tell him?" she asked again.

"I said yes."

He took another hasty step back after telling her that. She shrugged again, then walked over to the side

of the bed and sat down. She put the bouquet of roses on the coverlet beside her.

"Why aren't you getting your temper up, girl?" Harry asked. He rubbed his jaw while he studied her. "Caine said you might be resistant to the notion. Ain't you angry?"

"No."

"Then what is it?" he demanded. He clasped his hands behind his back while he tried to guess her reasons. "You care for this man, don't you?"

"I do."

"Well then?" he prodded.

"I'm afraid, Uncle."

Her voice had been a bare whisper. Harry heard her but was so astonished by her admission, he didn't know what to say. "You're not," he stammered.

"I am."

He shook his head. "You ain't never been afraid of anything before." His voice was gruff with affection. He went to the bed, sat down beside her on top of the flowers, and awkwardly put his arm around her shoulders. "What's different now?"

Oh, yes, she wanted to shout, I've been afraid before… so many times, so many near mishaps, she'd lost count. She couldn't tell him, of course, for if she did, he'd think he'd failed her.

"It's different because I'll have to give up my work," she said instead.

"You know it's time, what with me retiring and all," he countered. "I've hid it from me men, girl, but my eyes, well, I ain't seeing as proper as I used to. They'll balk at following a blind pirate."

"Then who will they follow?" she asked.

"Nathan."

"Nathan?"

"He wants the Emerald. It belonged to his father, after all, and he has that little business to take care of. He'll make a fine pirate, girl. He's learned how to be real mean."

"Yes, he would make a good pirate," she admitted. "But Uncle Harry, I can't be the kind of woman

Caine wants."

"You are the woman he wants."

"I'll make so many mistakes," she whispered. She was on the verge of tears and was valiantly trying to keep her emotions controlled for Harry's sake. "I don't know how to do all the things a proper wife

should know how to do. I'm no good with a needle, Harry."

"Aye, you're not," Harry admitted bleakly, remembering the time she tried to mend his sock and stitched it to her gown.

"1 can't dance," she added. She looked so forlorn when she'd made that confession, Harry threw his arm around her shoulder and hugged her. "All the fine ladies of the ton know how to dance," she ended on a wail.

"You'll learn," Harry predicted. "If you want to learn."

"Oh, yes," she admitted in a rush. "I've always wanted…"

Now she sounded wistful. Harry didn't know what was going on inside her mind. "What?" he asked. "What have you always wanted?"

"To belong."

The look on his face indicated he didn't understand what she was talking about.

"Are you wishing now I'd given you to Lady Briars? She would have taken you, girl. Why, she fought

me something fierce for you, too. She's the reason we snuck off real quiet-like right after your father's funeral. I guessed she'd come back with the authorities and try and steal you away from me. I weren't your legal guardian, if you'll remember. Still, your papa wanted you to get away from England."

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