Page 77 of The Duke With the Dragon Tattoo

He shrugged and swatted her accusation away like a troublesome gnat. “I did her a favor and both of you know it.”

Neither of the Weatherstoke women argued the point, but they glowered at him with identical, mutinous expressions. One glare emerald, the other sapphire.

The Weatherstoke Jewels, indeed.

Blackwell made a pithy sound of consternation. “We find ourselves in a rather complicated predicament.”

“How’s that?” Moncrieff stepped to his captain’s side, his hand in his jacket, presumably on a weapon.

Blackwell’s eye speared the first mate, glittering withreservation, his own hand reaching behind him. “I cannot, in good conscience, allow innocent women to be held at Ben More against their will.”

Farah snorted. “Since when?”

It was a line in the sand, drawn by a man who claimed to be his brother. A line the Rook would gladly leap across and spill blood to keep Lorelai at his side.

Whether she wanted to be or not.

His hand found his own weapon, secure in the knowledge that he and Moncrieff could gut Blackwell and his valet before they could call for reinforcements.

But would he do such a thing? In front of the man’s wife? In front of Lorelai?

“Try and take her from me.” His warning was a mercy, he hoped Blackwell understood that. “And I’ll send your black soul to hell, you son of a—”

The Blackheart of Ben More held two empty hands up in a gesture of capitulation. “Dorian.”

“Don’t call me that,” he barked. It was his name. And yet… it wasn’t. He didn’t know the Blackheart of Ben More. He hadn’t seen any documentation to validate anyone’s claim to the name Dorian Blackwell.

But the emotion in the man’s eye was hard to ignore, and the story he told not only possible, but plausible.

Probable even.

He had the Scythian Dragon.

“Very well.” Blackwell glanced speculatively at the women gathered to the Rook’s left. “Permit my wife to show the ladies and your first mate to their chambers. I wish to speak with you, alone.”

“How do I know you won’t spirit them away?” More than anything, the Rook wanted the offer to be genuine. But very few men in this world could be believed, and none could be trusted.

“I offer myself as surety. A hostage, even. I’ll go to your ship, if you like.”

“No,” Farah contended with one word.

He gazed over at his wife, and a silent communiquépassed between them. It wasn’t as though he commanded her compliance, but he requested it.

And she gave it. She trusted him.

The lucky bastard.

“This could be a trap,” Moncrieff cautioned.

Blackwell didn’t bother to hide his dislike as he measured Moncrieff, but he addressed the Rook. “There are questions I can answer. About the Cache. About the past. I know you. Maybe better than you know yourself. All I want to do is talk.”

Finally, the Rook nodded, then commanded Moncrieff. “You keep watch on the women. No one leaves until I say.”

“Yes, Captain.” Moncrieff followed the colorful procession of skirts out the library door. Murdoch kept a watchful eye on the pirate, sticking close to Farah Blackwell’s side.

Lorelai didn’t look back at him.

What cause had he given her to do so?I’m sorry,he thought.But I can’t let you go…