Miss Hunter’s gaze was evaluating. Unnerving, Ian realized. He’d never noticed her stare linger long on anyone. If she had a clue how disarming her ethereal violet eyes could be, she’d have half of London on their knees.
“I hadn’t realized you were in the shipping business, Miss Hunter,” he said slowly. “Is the ship yours?”
“No. But I own the title to the cargo on board. It’s of great value to me. So naturally, I’m concerned when a person of my acquaintance has displayed such a violent interest in the vessel.”
Ian pursed his lips together and tasted blood from his scuffle with the guard. Diana was taunting him with this pretense of an interview, and the admonishment of his less than gracious manners was trying his patience. He hated having his back to the room; he had to shift his eyes constantly to keep watch over his unfamiliar surroundings. He wanted to ask Miss Hunter plainly where the hell she was hiding Diana, and if they’d lost their minds completely by making off with the Holt emeralds.
Neither Amelia nor Diana needed to sell the necklace for money. They were not women who’d stake their lives on a set of pretty gems. Other than the outright animosity she’d shown occasionally to the Duke of Sunderland, no other woman in Ian’s acquaintance had tried harder to blend in with the wall than Amelia Hunter.
Yet here she was, coolly and confidently managing him.
Like an expert negotiator.
Ian braced his arms over his knees. “Perhaps I can be of service ensuring the protection of your valuable cargo.”
“Forgive me, Mr. Holt, but if there are others pursuing you, you’ll endanger it. Gravely.”
“Only one person knows of my intent to board the ship.”At the moment.“They won’t follow me. And there’s no need to be concerned about my brother. Jared will chase whatever breadcrumb trail you’ve scattered leading away from Miss Rives.”
“What will you do when you meet her again?”
His attention snagged on her use of the wordwhen, notif. He would have grinned had he not been so furious it was evidence of Diana toying with him. “I would never harm Miss Rives.”
“No man ever keeps that kind of a promise.”
The low steadiness in her tone made his chest tight. He was the Devil of the Docklands. He might convince Amelia Hunter he’d never turn a fist on Diana, but she expected him to hurt her in other ways.
“The last thing I want is for anything to happen to her,” he said as evenly as he could manage.
For a long moment, Miss Hunter searched his expression for any sign that would belie the responses he’d given her.
Eventually, she turned to Virgil. “I believe that answers all my questions.”
The captain tilted his head and inspected Ian in a way that made him feel like livestock. “In your enthusiasm to board my ship, Mr. Holt, you’ve disabled my best coaler. I’m now down a hand with less than an hour until we set sail. Do you make it a practice of assaulting men to extract information?”
“Your associate attacked me. I was merely defending myself.”
“Yes. I wonder why you didn’t use your pistol. It would have sped things up considerably.”
“It would have escalated the situation beyond what was necessary.”
“Tell me one good reason I shouldn’t contact the police about a man in possession of a gun, sniffing around my ship.”
Every time Virgil referred to the vessel as “his” ship, Ian had to suppress the urge to laugh. He could practically hear Diana coaching the man on what to say. “Your crew also possesses firearms. There’s no law against it.”
“Still, it would put me at ease to know why you and your pistol want to set sail on this voyage.”
Virgil was graciously tenacious in his questioning. In another life, Ian might have liked the fellow. “I am eager to leave England for new horizons. You’re the only ship casting off tonight.”
The captain folded his arms across his chest. “If you were to join my crew, Holt, our rules are more than requirements. They are the law when we’re at sea.”
“I expect I would have no trouble with your charter.”
“And I cannot return your pistol to you until the journey is complete.”
“Understood.” Ian nodded. He’d track it down within a day.
“Then I believe we’re finished here. Welcome aboard, Holt.” Virgil rose from the table. “Birdie’s outside. She’ll get you sorted with a bunk.”