Page 69 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

The gatekeeper pulled a pistol from inside his vest.

“Good,” Stephen said. “Keep alert for the scent of pungent musky cologne. I will have my sister send you more men.”

Doing her best to appear brave, Maddie schooled the trembling in her legs as she and Stephen advanced along the path to the main entrance.

They had not traveled far when a woman charged across the front lawn toward them. Loose red hair and purple skirts flew behind her. She leaped into Stephen’s arms. He lifted her off her feet and spun her in a circle. The siblings laughed and hugged each other for what seemed an eternity. At length, Stephen set his sister on her feet.

“Madalene, my sister, Her Grace the Duchess of Astleyshire. Georgiana, meet Madalene Spencer.” Stephen cleared his throat. “Madalene is quite special to me.”

Maddie’s cheeks caught fire and her heartbeat fluttered.

The smiling woman grasping Maddie in a warm greeting hardly seemed like a she-devil. “Call me Georgie. You are just in time for dinner.”

“Unfortunately, this is not a social call,” Stephen said.

“Oh, bother. How disappointing.” The duchesses’ bottom lip stuck out. Instead of looking impertinent, her pout was quite adorable. Then she bounced on her toes. “Does it have something to do with those bloody cockchafers we sent to prison?” Her arms waved wildly. “Did you receive my missive? They showed up here about a sennight ago and wreaked havoc. They were digging a bloody hole. Can you imagine? Thinking they can sneak onto our property and dig for treasure?” Georgie faced Maddie. “William and I do not take kindly to intruders.”

What delightfully unladylike language. Even more enchanting, the duchess never stopped moving. It was as if bees buzzed in her skirts. Maddie chuckled.

“I like her.” Georgie blew Maddie a kiss.

“And, Georgie,” Maddie said, “you are a breath of fresh air.” Unlike the British aristocrats at Aunt Henrietta’s.

Stephen’s winsome smile only lasted a moment before his lips morphed into a frown. “Sister, we need to talk. But, before we do, arm all available men, and set up a guard around the perimeter.”

The Duchess of Astleyshire sobered. “Oh, bollocks,” she said with a grunt. “If we are to have intruders, I want to deal with them myself.”

“Georgiana,” Stephen said, his tone that of a parent admonishing a recalcitrant child. “I need your assistance with other things.”

While his sister sighed, a groomsman approached, taking Stormy's reigns.

“Fine," she eventually said. "Come along and tell me why you suffer from such ill humor.” The duchess charged toward the castle, calling over her shoulder, “Why do my brothers insist on taking the fun out of everything?”

A half-dozen lanterns lit up the area beneath a canopy of oak trees, and the occasional blasphemy mingled with the cadence of shovels hitting the earth.

Myrle stopped digging to wipe sweat from his brow. “Somethin’ seems wrong. I don’t recollect burying it this deep.”

Georgie poked the giant with the tip of her boot. “Keep digging.”

“Ye damn bloody aristocrats are making us do all the work,” Diggins grumbled.

Since Myrle, the tallest of the group, stood in the hole he dug, the Duke of Astleyshire towered over everyone, and his voice was so deep that it sent chills down Maddie’s spine.

“You two are the cockchafers who buried the damn thing here in the first place,” William Harrington said.

The duchesses’ twisted grin was not lost on Maddie.

Diggins dropped his shovel and disappeared into the hole. “It’s here. I got it.” Dirt flew into the air, and his hand, clasping a filthy book, popped up.

A grinning Myrle grasped the found item and lifted it high. “We got it.”

Diggins climbed out of the hole, a smile consuming his dirt-encrusted face.

“Wait!” Stephen flashed a palm. “We’re surrounded. How did they get onto the property?”

Performing a joyful jig, Georgie rubbed her hands together. “This will be exceedingly fun.”

Stephen glared at his sister. “Georgiana, please tell me you didn’t.”