Page 100 of Silver Angel

“What’s the name of this port we’re stopping at, Peaches?”

“I couldn’t pronounce it right even if I tried, miss. It’s one of those foreign names. But it’s just a little harbor halfway along the coast of Portugal. No place of any importance.”

Chantelle stared at him incredulously. “Do you mean to say we’ve actually left the Mediterranean?”

“Why, that’s right, you would’ve missed the Straits, being as we came through in the dead of night. Surprised Sinclair didn’t tell you, though.”

“Sinclair?”

“Why, the gent you’re—”

“If you don’t have enough tasks to keep you busy, Peaches,” Derek said from the doorway, “perhaps I should have a talk with the captain to rectify that.”

“No need for that, milord. I was just having a little friendly chitchat with the lady.”

“So I heard.”

“Right you are.”

Derek closed the door as soon as Peaches hurried out, then leaned back against it, arms crossed over his chest. Chantelle narrowed her eyes at him.

“Did my ears just deceive me, or did you speak to him in perfect English, Jamil?”

“I doubt he would have understood a word of my French.”

“Then you lied to me. Youdoknow English!”

“Of course,” he replied with a careless shrug. “It’s Jamil who doesn’t speak it, at least not very well.”

“Jamil who doesn’t…oh, I see. I suppose you’ve changed identities along with your clothes.”

“Something like that.”

“You could have said something sooner,” she replied peevishly. “If you’re traveling in secrecy—”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

Her brows drew together suspiciously. “Have you been drinking?”

“Not at all.” He grinned at her.

“Well, you’re not making any sense. If you don’t want anyone to know who you are, then this trip must be secret.”

“But it’s not, Shahar, and everyone aboard knows who I am. Derek Sinclair, present Earl of Mulbury. at your service.”

“Derek?” The name struck a cord of memory. “Didn’t you ask me once to call you…wait a minute. I know the name Sinclair. It’s the family name of the Marquis of Huntstable, who lives not four miles from my home.”

“My grandfather.”

“Like bloody hell,” she snapped. “I’m not a fool, Jamil.”

“Of course you’re not. I think your difficulty lies in getting past one simple fact. I’m not Jamil Reshid. I took his place for a while because he needed my help.”

“You’re lying again. How could you impersonate someone everyone knows? You would have to be his twin.”

“That did make it easier.”

She could have spit at that point, she was so exasperated. “If you can’t be serious, get out! I don’t like being toyed with!”