Page 70 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

What had Georgie done? Had she somehow allowed the men onto the property so that she could slice them into tiny bits using the sword at her waist? Maddie envied Georgie’s bravery and enthusiasm, for she was too cowardly to embrace danger. However, embracing and facing were two different things. So, she’d better pull herself together since she’d insisted she join Stephen’s mission.

“What do you want, Dupont?” Stephen called to an approaching shadow.

The shadow chuckled. “Le livreso that I can prove your guilt and my innocence.”

A disgusted snort from Georgie seemed to anger Pierre because he scoffed, and his footsteps quickened. “Keep your hands where my men can see them,” he said.

“We don’t need our hands or weapons to knock you on your arse,” Georgie said.

“We don’t got nothin’ to do with any of this.” Myrle lifted the book even higher, and clumps of dirt rained down upon his head.

Nobody responded to the big man even though Maddie was of the opinion that it was entirely his and Diggins’s fault they found themselves in this blunder.

“Hand me the book, and nobody will get hurt,” Pierre said.

“Doubtful,” Maddie mumbled.

Pierre glared at her. “My men have their pistols aimed at the lovely Mademoiselle Spencer. One false move and she dies at your hands.Comprenez-vous?”

Maddie understood quite well. Hence her overwhelming fear and quivering muscles.

“I am unarmed.” Stephen held up both of his hands.

“We are putting down our weapons,” the duke said. “You can have the book.”

Georgie huffed and both her husband and her brother shot her warning glares.

“Putting it down, Dupont. But you are rat shite.” Georgie reached into herde´colletageand pulled out a pistol.

“Eh, eh,” Pierretsked. “Slowly. And your sword.” He pointed at the ground. “I must confess, I did so enjoy your letters to your brother, Your Grace.”

“You read my letters?” Georgie asked.

Stephenharrumphed.“He broke into my chamber. He probably left his scent behind, but I was too busy…”

Too busy dealing with Maddie. And her perfume had probably overshadowed Pierre’s. How dare the odious man detract from the memories of her perfect late-afternoon with Stephen.

Once the weapons lay on the ground, Pierre approached and took the book from Myrle. As he thumbed through it, his chortles grew until they became out-of-control guffaws. “Youimbéciles. You buried the book without protecting it?”

What in deuces was the man talking about? Apprehension and confusion mingled, making Maddie lightheaded.

Stephen moaned. “Why didn’t you bury it in the leather satchel? What would make you think you could store an unprotected book underground?”

Myrle shrugged. “I just wanted a bloody apple.”

Merciful heavens, what a blunder.

“Not to mention, we thought ’twas temporary. We planned to come back for it, but then we got carted off to prison.” Diggins scowled at Stephen.

“Well, it seems there is nothing in here but smeared ink and mildewedpapier.” Pierre held it up.

Not a single letter was legible. Which meant there was nothing to prove Pierre’s guilt or Stephen’s innocence.

Pierre tossed the useless book to the ground. “I will be on my way. None of you move, or mademoiselle will have a bullet between her eyes, and that would be a shame, for she istrès belle.” He ran a hand over Maddie’s cheek. Then, while grinning at Stephen, he dipped a finger into the dress she’d borrowed from Georgie.

Stephen growled. “Dupont, I will…”

“You will do nothing because”—he waved his free hand—“there are still pistols aimed at her.”