Page 74 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

“Yes. Apparently, I deposited it too deep. But we were enjoying ourselves so much.”

Millie lifted her chin and beamed. “I borrowed the shovels from the gardener.”

“You read French, don’t you?” Georgie asked him.

Stephen understood conversational French, but he didn’t read it. He shook his head.

Madalene traced the letters with her finger, “I do not read French except for the basic phrases I learned studying a few pages of a textbook in my father’s library.” She flipped through the journal, halted and gasped. “I’ve seen these numbers before. They were in my uncle’s notes.”

Stephen followed along as she read. “12-31-16. 5-26-17.”

“I am certain they were the dates his ships were pirated. His notes also listed the stolen cargo,” Madalene said.

“I left my unit on New Year’s Eve 1816 to assist Georgie and I helped Alistair in May. Dupont probably knew this because I was dealing with Cartier, and Cartier had contact with him.” Stephen turned his attention back to the book. How frustrating that he could not decipher more than a word here or there. Growling, he stood and paced the room.

At length, he halted in front of his sister. “I love you, Georgiana but you are infuriating.”

“Why are you angry with me?” she asked. “I thought you would be thrilled.”

“Why did you not tell me sooner?”

She lifted her stubborn chin and puffed up her stubborn shoulders. “I had no idea what it was or that it was connected to you or any of your missions. If you were not so secretive about what you were up to and filled me in from time to time, I might have known.”

“I cannot talk about these things with you and have Winkentattle announce them to the world.”

“I would never….” She huffed at him. “And I did write to you to tell you that Myrle and Diggins had been here. Even though you wanted William to hide their prison release from me.” She scowled. “Did you not receive it?”

“Sorry, Stephen. I had to tell her when they showed up here,” William said, looking confidently ducal instead of apologetic.

“To hell and the devil. I never received the letter.” Because the simpleton who had just saved the woman he was crazy about had used it to wipe his big arse. Frustrated on a half dozen levels, he ran a hand through his hair. Of course, Georgie had not meant to keep valuable information from him. There was no way she would have understood the significance of the book and copying it had been brilliant.

“I am sorry. I’m behaving beastly,” he said.

Georgie rarely cried but she swiped at a tear. “Had I not kept the book a secret, Dupont would have shown up here and taken it by force. Then I would have chopped him into pieces and then you would not be able to see that he receives his due punishment in court.”

“’Tis’ true,” William said.

Millie nodded emphatically.

Chopped him into pieces may have been an exaggeration, but she would have sliced him in a few places. Broken his jaw. Relocated his nose.

Stephen smiled at his sister and chuckled. “’Tis true indeed. Now the book is safe, and they are gone and do not know it exists.”

“I am sure you can find a translator in London,” Madalene said.

“Absolutely,” William said. “I say we get a good night’s rest and leave in the morning. I will travel to London with you and seek an audience with my cousin. He will help us get these notes into the hands of whoever requires them to finish Dupont. I will send a missive so he is expecting us.”

Seeing as how the Duke of Astleyshire was his Royal Highnesses’ dearest cousin, Stephen just might have a chance to take down Dupont and save himself. Perchance all was not lost.

“I should also speak to Lord Fudgie.”

William pounded on his thigh as he chortled. “Don’t tell me that even the diplomatic Captain Eaton refers to the secretary of state asFudgie?” He shook the laughter from his body and sobered. “I will see that he is also there.”

“Now that I have seen the proof, I can explain everything to my uncle,” Maddie said. “He agreed to let me spy on you, Stephen. And I now know the truth of his misfortunes. I will send a letter first thing tomorrow morning.” Madalene set the book on a side table and glided to him. She took his hand in hers. “Let His Grace help you. You are a good man. Surely no one will believe you are capable of treason. And I will be here, waiting for you. Because”—she wrapped her arms around him—“you will be exonerated and then we may spend time together.”

And make love in a million different positions. But now was not the time for a tent in his trousers.

Four sets of eyes, well five if you counted Lady, stared at him awaiting his response. What other choice did he have?