And they continued spinning dreams. Angelique cast a glance over her shoulder and thought she could almost see herself laughing up into the face of a tall green-eyed man as they spun round and round the room.
Everyone at The Grand Palace on the Thames was a little nervous but hopeful about introducing Captain Hardy to Lord Bolt, the way one might be about introducing a new puppy to the family cat. There was no real hope they would become friends or even rub along, but perhaps they wouldn’t be tempted to kill each other and could safely be given cushions on opposite sides of the fire. This trepidation was mainly because it seemed the qualities the two men had in common—arrogance, a certain inflexibility, an alleged way with swords and guns, the kind of height that enabled them to reach the sconces without standing on a ladder—were not necessarily the sort of qualities that meshed people into friends. Then there was the fact that Captain Hardy’s guiding principle for the entirety of his life had been duty and the rule of law.
Whereas Lord Bolt wanted to open a gaming hell.
Both had spent a little time in the newspapers, for very different reasons. So there was that.
When word spread throughout The Grand Palace on the Thames that Captain Hardy had returned from his trip and would be joining them in the drawing room that night, the atmosphere had changed to the sort of breathless anticipation that preceded a boxing match.
All the guests and hostesses were gathered in the drawing room when Captain Hardy stepped into it that evening, looking like a man who had finally found land after a long trip at sea, but then, The Grand Palace on the Thames always felt like a harbor to him even when he was away for a few hours.
Everyone stood to greet him, but the greetings were rather hushed and subdued.
They were waiting for Captain Hardy and Lord Bolt to formally exchange words.
Lucien had stood with the usual slow elegance that somehow managed to convey arrogance, danger, and command.
Captain Hardy stood there doing something rather similar.
They’d regarded each other for an appraising second of silence.
“I think you both have killed pirates!” Delacorte finally blurted. He liked both of them and was eager to get the bonding underway.
Captain Hardy and Lord Bolt turned as one to Delacorte, each sporting twin expressions of bemusement. There was one thing they had in common, at least.
“A pleasure to meet you at last, Captain Hardy,” Lord Bolt said. He bowed, beautifully. “I’ve heard your praises sung for some time.”
Captain Hardy returned the bow in kind. “Likewise, Lord Bolt. I do hope you’re enjoying your stay here at The Grand Palace on the Thames. I apologize for needing to rush out so soon after your arrival, but I’ve just purchased a ship and there was a spot of trouble with the crew up the coast.”
Lucien’s eyebrows rose. “Do you captain your own ship?”
“I hired my own captain, but it seems he’s going to need a little help hiring a crew that isn’t shiftless.”
Lucien gave a short laugh. “I’m an importer myself. The Triton Group. Captain Douglas Fleming is sailing. Silks and spices. Before I returned to London I spent some years learning the business in the East Indies.”
“You don’t say. You wouldn’t happen to know a Captain Janssen, would you?”
“I sailed with him, in fact. Taught me most of what I know.”
And on and on they went.
The talk turned to quays and customs and warehouses and cutters and so forth.
It wasverydisappointing.
Also, riveting.
And then a little boring.
Angelique and Delilah had been watching with held breath, Delilah prepared to leap in to mediate her husband’s impatience. She sat warily back down.
“Bolt’s bound to say something to annoy Tristan eventually. Everybody does,” she murmured to Angelique.
“And Bolt will say something meant to provoke a little mischief. He can’t seem to help it.”
They watched and listened for a time.
“I think it’s entirely possible they are more similar than different, which seems an extraordinary thing to say,” Delilah mused. Puzzled.