After the Wedding (The Worth Saga #2)(71)

His lips twitched. “I was fighting for the freedom of millions. What was your excuse, little girl?”

Benedict took an eager step forward. “You fought privateers? You were in a blockade?! What was that like?”

Oh, God. Benedict had latched on to the man. Theresa tried not to groan aloud.

Captain Hunter glanced at Benedict. “Not as exciting as it sounds, unfortunately. The most fun I had the entire time was getting struck by lightning thrice, which tells you precisely how entertaining the endeavor was. Now, as to my brother—”

“You were struck by lightning? And you lived?”

“There’s a trick to it, but—”

“I want to be struck by lightning!”

For a moment, Captain Hunter seemed to be struggling with laughter. He set a hand over his face and shut his eyes before looking up. “I don’t endorse it. Now as to my brother—”

“What’s the trick?”

Captain Hunter sighed. “Little boy. I’m an incredibly inconvenient case for your hero worship. Choose someone else, if you please. My brother, Adrian—”

“How does one become a person who fights privateers in the first place? I want to fight privateers! It sounds loads better than going into law.”

Captain Hunter turned to spear her brother with another gaze. When he spoke, his words seemed excessively dry. “You make laws that starve them of income, that’s how you fight privateers. If you have to do it with guns, you’ve done it wrong. Stick with law.”

Benedict subsided into confused rejection.

“Every so often, some spoiled child decides he wants to learn about trading from me. His parents pay a vast sum of money for him to come along on a journey, and the only reason I ever allow it is the child inevitably gives up because he doesn’t want to actually do work. If I wanted to answer a thousand irrelevant questions about what I do, I’d have an apprentice. Right now, I want to know about my brother.”

“And I want to find my sister,” Theresa said. “I have some information. You have more. If we pool what we both have, we’ll achieve greater success, don’t you think?”

Captain Hunter considered her. “That depends. How did you lose your sister?”

There was nothing for it. She was going to have to start with… Drat. “It all happened when my father committed treason,” Theresa said. “Our family was split apart. We haven’t seen Camilla for more than nine years. Our family fortunes have improved, and we are searching for her. We know she was married less than a month ago, in Surrey. And we know where they aren’t. Which is Surrey.”

“Plus,” Benedict added, “it’s Judith’s birthday coming up exceedingly soon, and we should hate to disappoint Judith.”

The man—to his credit—ignored the treason and the birthday and asked an even more irrelevant question. “Who solemnized the marriage?”

“What?”

“Who solemnized the marriage?” he asked. “It’s not so hard a question, is it?”

Theresa fumbled for her book and withdrew her copy of the record. “It was…a Bishop Lassiter? Witnessed by a Rector Miles and a Catherine Shackleton.”

Captain Hunter shut his eyes. “Fucking Denmore. Left him in the lurch once again. I told him—” He looked over at them. “Pardon my language. Small children. Ugh.”

“No pardon necessary,” Theresa said brightly. “I’m not that small. I’ve used that word before myself. Twice!”

“All of twice. My, my.” He didn’t look impressed by her ability to flout social stricture. “Very well, then. Your information is useful. Trading seems fair. Bishop Denmore is our uncle on our mother’s side. Adrian told me that he had hopes to bring Denmore around to recognizing our branch of the family. Denmore and Lassiter are at odds with each other. If Adrian has got himself in trouble with Lassiter, and if my gods-be-damned uncle didn’t officiate at his own nephew’s wedding, I know precisely what’s happening. I was right, Adrian was wrong, and he’s trying to work everything out so he doesn’t have to admit it.”

“Your pardon?”

Captain Hunter sighed. “I don’t know where Adrian and your sister are at present, but I know where they will be.”



* * *



Camilla had returned to Lackwich by means of Adrian’s cart. Kitty sat next to her, clutching her valise and not speaking much.

Adrian had glanced at the two of them with curiosity, but hadn’t said anything, not until they’d gone to Mrs. Beasley’s home and asked if they might use her front room for a moment.

She had agreed, and then—with one look at Kitty’s trembling hands—clucked her tongue and disappeared to fetch tea. Camilla had finally turned to Adrian.

“We didn’t have much time,” Camilla explained as she handed the rectory’s account book over. “I haven’t had a chance to truly look through it. I took this and his personal accounts. I verified that it was the proper dates, but… I hope they’re enough. Tell me they’re enough.”

She felt her fists clench and tried to tamp down that horrible feeling that felt something like hope, something like betrayal. Deep down, she didn’t hope it was enough. She hoped it wasn’t.