trustworthy—”
“I agree,” Rem interrupted. Nonchalantly, he refolded the newspaper. “Has your brother any clue as to what might have caused his ship to go down?”
“None.” Sammy shook her head. “But all of our colleagues are becoming increasingly alarmed. Barrett Shipping has been lucky—we’ve lost only one ship. Some of our competitors have suffered more severe losses. Why, I overheard Lord Hartley, an old and dear friend of Father’s, telling Drake that three vessels manufactured by his shipbuilding company have been lost in as many months.”
“A significant number,” Rem agreed, vividly recalling the detailed list Briggs had given him at Boydry’s. Yes, three of the missing ships had been Hartley’s, while only one had been built by Barrett Shipping. Samantha’s information was indeed accurate—remarkably so.
An unwanted idea materialized in Rem’s brain.
“You’re acquainted with many people in the shipbuilding industry, are you not?” he asked casually.
“I suppose so … Why?”
Rem fought a raging battle with his conscience, and won. A link was a link and had to be taken. “I’m impressed, that’s all. I hadn’t realized you were so involved in your brother’s business.”
“ You hadn’t realized I had grown past the age of six.”
Her quip broke through the rapid-fire pace of his thoughts, and he smiled—a bone-melting smile. “But you have grown, haven’t you, Samantha?” he murmured huskily.
“Indeed I have,” Sammy replied, lifting her chin a notch. “Quite a bit, actually.”
“It seems I have a lot to discover about Lady Samantha Barrett.”
“Then I suggest you begin at once.”
Years of discipline silenced pangs of guilt. “I intend to, imp. I intend to.”
4
A NEARBY CLOCK CHIMED ONE.
Rem swung open the door to Annie’s, pausing while his eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of gaslight and bustle of activity. As one of Shadwell’s few clean, uninfested brothels, Annie’s boasted a wealth of decent liquor, continuous music and dancing, and a host of attractive, accommodating women—all of which resulted in a thriving clientele.
Automatically, Rem peered beyond the sailors whirling their enthusiastic partners about the floor, and the rows of gin-swilling couples occupying the benches on either side of the long room. It never occurred to him to search among the raucous merriment for his men—they knew better than to partake in pleasure before business was concluded.
Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of Boyd seated at a far corner table mere seconds before Annie sauntered up to him. “Hello, Rem,” she greeted him above the drunken din. “It’s good to see you.”
Turning his attention to the buxom, flaxen-haired woman he knew to be as sharp in business as any man, Rem grinned. “Annie, my love.” Gallantly, he kissed her hand. “You’re looking more beautiful than I remembered. It’s been far too long.”
Amused awareness twinkled in Annie’s shrewd blue eyes. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d believe you, Gresham. But I do know you, ever since you first took to the sea. Flattery passes through your lips more naturally than gin. There’s not a woman alive who stands a chance of resisting you. And you bloody well know it.”
Rem chuckled. “I’ve been properly chastised.”
“Besides, what you’re looking for at the moment isn’t a willing lady.” Hands on ample hips, Annie inclined her head toward Boyd. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Thanks, love.”
“Rem.” She stayed him with her hand. “As far as later—do you want me to make arrangements? Katrina is free.”
“Katrina is many things, Annie, but never free.”
Annie gave a throaty laugh. “True. But she’s beautiful, young, and firmly refusing to entertain any other customers since the last time you were here. Apparently, you made quite an impression; one that’s costing me considerable income.”
“Now who’s stooping to false flattery?”
“I agree,” Rem interrupted. Nonchalantly, he refolded the newspaper. “Has your brother any clue as to what might have caused his ship to go down?”
“None.” Sammy shook her head. “But all of our colleagues are becoming increasingly alarmed. Barrett Shipping has been lucky—we’ve lost only one ship. Some of our competitors have suffered more severe losses. Why, I overheard Lord Hartley, an old and dear friend of Father’s, telling Drake that three vessels manufactured by his shipbuilding company have been lost in as many months.”
“A significant number,” Rem agreed, vividly recalling the detailed list Briggs had given him at Boydry’s. Yes, three of the missing ships had been Hartley’s, while only one had been built by Barrett Shipping. Samantha’s information was indeed accurate—remarkably so.
An unwanted idea materialized in Rem’s brain.
“You’re acquainted with many people in the shipbuilding industry, are you not?” he asked casually.
“I suppose so … Why?”
Rem fought a raging battle with his conscience, and won. A link was a link and had to be taken. “I’m impressed, that’s all. I hadn’t realized you were so involved in your brother’s business.”
“ You hadn’t realized I had grown past the age of six.”
Her quip broke through the rapid-fire pace of his thoughts, and he smiled—a bone-melting smile. “But you have grown, haven’t you, Samantha?” he murmured huskily.
“Indeed I have,” Sammy replied, lifting her chin a notch. “Quite a bit, actually.”
“It seems I have a lot to discover about Lady Samantha Barrett.”
“Then I suggest you begin at once.”
Years of discipline silenced pangs of guilt. “I intend to, imp. I intend to.”
4
A NEARBY CLOCK CHIMED ONE.
Rem swung open the door to Annie’s, pausing while his eyes adjusted to the sudden burst of gaslight and bustle of activity. As one of Shadwell’s few clean, uninfested brothels, Annie’s boasted a wealth of decent liquor, continuous music and dancing, and a host of attractive, accommodating women—all of which resulted in a thriving clientele.
Automatically, Rem peered beyond the sailors whirling their enthusiastic partners about the floor, and the rows of gin-swilling couples occupying the benches on either side of the long room. It never occurred to him to search among the raucous merriment for his men—they knew better than to partake in pleasure before business was concluded.
Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of Boyd seated at a far corner table mere seconds before Annie sauntered up to him. “Hello, Rem,” she greeted him above the drunken din. “It’s good to see you.”
Turning his attention to the buxom, flaxen-haired woman he knew to be as sharp in business as any man, Rem grinned. “Annie, my love.” Gallantly, he kissed her hand. “You’re looking more beautiful than I remembered. It’s been far too long.”
Amused awareness twinkled in Annie’s shrewd blue eyes. “If I didn’t know you so well, I’d believe you, Gresham. But I do know you, ever since you first took to the sea. Flattery passes through your lips more naturally than gin. There’s not a woman alive who stands a chance of resisting you. And you bloody well know it.”
Rem chuckled. “I’ve been properly chastised.”
“Besides, what you’re looking for at the moment isn’t a willing lady.” Hands on ample hips, Annie inclined her head toward Boyd. “They’re waiting for you.”
“Thanks, love.”
“Rem.” She stayed him with her hand. “As far as later—do you want me to make arrangements? Katrina is free.”
“Katrina is many things, Annie, but never free.”
Annie gave a throaty laugh. “True. But she’s beautiful, young, and firmly refusing to entertain any other customers since the last time you were here. Apparently, you made quite an impression; one that’s costing me considerable income.”
“Now who’s stooping to false flattery?”
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