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

“Are you prepared to face Sir James?”
    No.
    Not yet.
    Not ever.
    “Yes.”
    She started for the door. A gentle tug on her arm stayed her.
    “I’ll be taking the Seahawk back to Virginia so the men we’ve reclaimed can see their families. If you wish, I’ll take you and Mistress Maude, as well.”
    Sarah’s heart knocked against her ribs. Once. Twice. In that infinitesimal bite of time, she actually considered his offer.
    She could sail away with him. Leave Sir James behind.
    Leave, as well, her father. Her brother. Her heritage, such as it was.
    Leave everything and become the woman she’d let so many people believe she already was—a highborn wanton who lived only for the pleasure of the moment. Regret bitter in her throat, she shook her head.
    “I can’t go with you.”
    “Surely you don’t intend to marry Lowell after the way he’s used you?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    “What will you do, then?”
    “Return to England,” she said with a small shrug. “My family is there. My home.”
    What was left of it, anyway. Ceddie’s ancestral holdings had been entailed on a distant nephew and the elegant town house he’d purchased for Sarah had gone under the auctioneer’s hammer last year. She could always join her father at his ramshackle estate in Devonshire, she supposed. If James held to his promise to tear up the notes he held on her papa and brother, that is. If he did not, her entire family might soon take up residence in Newgate prison.
    Sighing, she smoothed the wrinkles out of her gown as best she could and preceded the American from the cabin.
     
    T HE WHISKERED petty officer was still at his post outside the captain’s door. While Richard exchanged a few words with him, Sarah tried to prepare herself for the ugly scene she knew would follow.
    James would have heard the shot. The slap of running feet. The shouts. She didn’t doubt he was all astew to learn what had happened and would be bitterly disappointed to discover she’d only wounded Blake. Dragging in a deep breath, Sarah entered his cabin for the second time that fateful night. Blake followed.
    James swept her with a single cutting glance before turning his gaze on the American. The bloodstained handkerchief sent as clear a signal as any flag flown from the yardarm.
    “May I assume my intended put that hole in you, Blake?”
    “You may.”
    “How unfortunate her aim was off.”
    “Yes, wasn’t it?” He made no attempt to conceal his disgust. “Perhaps next time you’ll fight your own battles instead of allowing a woman to wage them for you.”
    Fury flared in James’s face at the insult. “I told you I would meet you above decks, sword in hand. I’m still prepared to do so.”
    “You had your chance. It’s too late now for swords. You may thank your lady, though, and be glad that I admire courage whenever and wherever I find it. Hers saved your ship and your own sniveling hide.”
    It was a lie. He’d sworn he hadn’t intended to harm either the Linx or her captain. Yet he spoke so convincingly that Sarah had to clench her fists and stare straight ahead to keep from throwing him a look of gratitude. Maintaining her icy demeanor became even more difficult when he scraped a hand over his chin and smiled ruefully.
    “I can only wish she’d followed through with her noble offer to give herself to me before pulling the trigger. Perhaps next time, lass?”
    Sarah wanted to weep. Instead, she lifted her chinand stared down her nose at him. “There will be no next time, Lieutenant.”
    He gave her a look of warm approval before turning to Sir James. Instantly, the warmth left his eyes.
    “I’ll have your parole, sir, or I swear I’ll have you put in irons and parade you in front of your men like the shambling shim-shanks that you are.”
    The threat was so low and fierce that even Sarah believed it. She held her breath while James considered his choices, now narrowed down to two. He could surrender his ship or his pride.
    His