April Moon by Susan King, Merline Lovelace, MIRANDA JARRETT Page A

discharged pistol.
    Sarah had no sooner pulled the bolt than the door burst open. A grim-faced officer rushed in, primed pistol in hand. The tall, cadaverous seaman—Jenkins—came hard on his heels. Maude pushed past them both, her eyes wide and frightened.
    “M’lady!” Her face paled as she spotted the red-stained handkerchief tied around the captain’s arm. “Oh, no! Did ye do that?”
    “I—I…”
    The lie stuck in Sarah’s throat. It was left to Blake to answer cheerfully.
    “She did, indeed.”
    With a wailing cry, Maude rushed across the cabin, flung herself to her knees, and wrapped her plump arms around his boot tops. He stumbled back, almost knocked off his feet.
    “Don’t hurt her, sir! It weren’t her fault. Sir James forced her to this desperate act.”
    Sarah shook herself and tried to stem the hysterical tide. “Calm yourself, Maude. There’s no call for this unseemly display.”
    The maid ignored her. Determined to plead her mistress’s case, she clung to Blake’s knees.
    “She’s good and kind and generous of heart, sir. She tended to Sir Cedric night ’n day all those weeks he lay a-dying, his bowels putrefying. Niver once retched or showed him a disgusted face, as did them so-called nurses what couldn’t take the stench. And after her papa and brother ran through every penny Sir Cedric left her, she always managed to scrape together the servants’ wages one way or t’other.”
    “Maude, do be still!”
    Too wrought up to stop, the maid rattled on. “Why, she even sold her gold locket to pay thebonesetter when Cook fell and broke her leg. It was the one trinket of her mama’s her papa hadn’t yet pawned to pay his gambling debts.”
    Sarah felt heat flame in her cheeks. She could only hope Maude ran out of breath before she spilled every sordid family secret. She couldn’t meet Blake’s gaze as he bent to help the maid to rise.
    “Here. Let’s get you off your knees.”
    Still Maude wasn’t done. Once on her feet, she clutched at his coat sleeves. “You must believe me, sir! M’lady wouldn’t so much as step on a spider were she not forced to it. She didn’t want to shoot you.”
    Laughter danced in Blake’s eyes at being classed with an insect, but he kept it from his voice.
    “I believe you.”
    The solemn assurance acted like a spur on the distraught serving woman. She burst into noisy, sobbing tears and threw herself against Richard’s chest. If Sarah hadn’t been so agitated herself, she might have laughed at the look of comical dismay that crossed the captain’s face.
    “Mr. Jenkins,” he said in a strangled voice. “Escort Mistress Maude above deck.”
    “Aye, aye, sir.”
    The seaman peeled the sobbing woman off his captain’s chest and led her away. Heaving a hearty sigh of relief, Richard addressed his lieutenant.
    “Mr. McDougal, you’ll see that the boarding party is standing ready to return to the Seahawk. Lady Stanton, Sir James and I will join you in a few moments.”
    With a nod, the officer left. Nothing was left to Sarah but to offer a stiff apology.
    “Please excuse Maude’s hysterics. She’s been with me a long while and tends to…to forget herself at times.”
    “From the sound of it,” he said drily, “she forgets nothing.”
    Rolling his shoulders, the American settled his uniform across his shoulders and ran a quick eye over Sarah.
    “You’d best retie your garters before we go to fetch Lowell.”
    She lifted the hem of her skirt an inch or two and saw her right silk stocking was bagged around her ankle. It must have come down during their wild coupling. She hadn’t noticed, her attention being rather taken up afterward with such minor matters as firing off a pistol.
    Turning her back, she lifted her skirt. The lacy garter was twisted as well, but she managed to untie it and straighten the sagging silk. Her heart was thumping when she dropped her skirts and faced the American again.
    His eyes held no trace of a smile now.