The Devil's Necklace. Kat Martin

Mrs. Cogburn was a widow, as was Mrs. Franklin, her companion. Also seated at the table were a wealthy silk merchant from Bath and a newly married couple on their way to visit relatives in Scotland.

      Lord Collingwood laughed at something Mrs. Cogburn said then casually shifted his attention to her. His eyes ran over her aqua silk gown, took in the auburn curls swept high on her head, lingered a moment on her bosom, then returned to her face.

      “If I might say so, you look particularly fetching tonight, Miss Chastain.”

      “Thank you, my lord.”

      “And those pearls you are wearing…they’re quite unusual. I don’t believe I have ever seen a string so perfectly matched or of such a rich color.”

      Unconsciously her hand came up to the strand of pearls at her throat. The necklace was worth a fortune, a gift Grace probably should have refused, but Tory had insisted, and the necklace was so lovely. The moment Grace had put it on, she simply hadn’t been able to resist.

      “They’re very old,” Grace told the earl. “Thirteenth century. There’s a rather tragic story behind them.”

      “Really? Perhaps you will tell me sometime.”

      “I would be happy to.”

      The captain began speaking just then, relaying the progress they had made so far on their journey, then listing the delights on the menu for supper. Wineglasses were filled and silver dishes appeared with an array of vegetables, meat and fish.

      “So, my dear Miss Chastain, how did you pass your day?” Lord Collingwood leaned back as a uniformed waiter scooped a plump piece of chicken in lemon sauce onto his plate.

      “If the weather had been less inclement, I would have enjoyed a stroll.” But the February day was overcast and chill, the seas choppy and rolling. Fortunately, she had never suffered mal de mer, as did her lady’s maid and several other passengers aboard. “Mostly, I read.”

      “And the book?”

      “A favorite volume of Shakespeare. Do you also enjoy reading, my lord?”

      “Why, yes, I do.” He had slightly crooked teeth, yet the smile he gave her was not unpleasant. “And I, too, enjoy the Bard.” The remark was followed by a discourse on King Lear, his lordship’s favorite work.

      Grace joined in, saying that she most enjoyed Romeo and Juliet.

      “Ah, a romantic,” the captain said, entering into the discussion.

      Grace smiled. “To tell you the truth, I never really thought of myself that way, but perhaps I am a bit of a romantic. And you, Captain Chambers? Which volume of Shakespeare do you favor?”

      There was no time to reply as the salon door swung open and a burly seaman appeared at the top of the ladder. He made his way down to the salon and hurried over to speak to the captain.

      She couldn’t hear what was being said, but after a minute the captain pushed to his feet.

      “If you will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, it appears duty calls.” At the murmur that went round the room, Chambers gave them a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. In the meantime, please continue to enjoy your meal.”

      The stout, gray-haired man departed and conversation resumed. No one seemed unduly concerned, though it was obvious the passengers were curious about what might be occurring.

      “If it’s anything of import,” the earl said, “I’m sure we’ll find out when the captain returns.” The group chatted amiably throughout the meal and after they finished dessert, Lord Collingwood invited her for a stroll round the deck.

      “Unless, of course, it’s too chill for you out there.”

      “I would love a walk. A bit of fresh air sounds just the thing.” As supper approached, there had been a slight break in the weather, and though it yet remained cold, the seas appeared somewhat less formidable.

      Lord Collingwood escorted her across the deck to the rail and she took a deep breath of the brisk sea air. She could feel the pitch and roll of the sea, but the ocean was less hostile and a thin sliver of moon rose over the water, casting a silver trail toward the horizon.

      Grace tilted her head back to admire the crystal-white stars glittering in the black night sky. “Do you see that cluster of stars overhead?” She pointed into the darkness above the tall ship’s mast. “That is Orion, the hunter. Those three stars form his belt. Beside him, just there, that group is Taurus, the bull.”

      The earl’s brown eyebrows went up. “Very impressive, my dear. I have studied the stars a bit myself and you are exactly correct. You enjoy stargazing, Miss Chastain?”

      “Why, yes, I do. Very much. It is a hobby of mine. In fact, I have a small portable telescope packed in my trunk. I hope to do a bit of amateur astronomy while I am in Scarborough.”

      He gave her a slightly crooked smile. “That sounds entertaining. I shall be traveling back that way on my return. Perhaps I might pay you a call.”

      Grace cast the earl a look. He was handsome and well groomed, wealthy and a member of the aristocracy. She had sensed the man’s interest from the start, yet any interest on her part remained lacking. Though she enjoyed a man’s company, there were few she found appealing enough to consider more than a friend. At times, she wondered if something might be wrong with her.

      “You would be welcome at Humphrey Hall, of course. I’m sure a visit would be pleasant.” Pleasant, indeed, but little more. She thought of the great love between Romeo and Juliet and wondered if she would ever know such a love.

      The breeze picked up, tugging a strand of auburn hair loose from its pins and whipping it against her cheek. There was an icy chill in the air and beneath her fur-lined cloak, Grace couldn’t stop a shiver.

      “You’re cold,” Lord Collingwood said. “I think it is time we went in. Perhaps you would care to join me in the salon for a game of whist.”

      Why not? She had nothing better to do. “That would be lovely—” She broke off at the sound of men’s voices, members of the crew moving around the deck. Something seemed to be happening on the opposite side of the boat.

      The earl’s head came up. “Look! It appears another ship is approaching.”

      “Another ship?” A thread of worry slipped through her. They were at war, after all. A ship approaching in the dark ness might not bode well for the Lady Anne. She let Lord Collingwood lead her toward the bow so they might get a better view. “You don’t suppose the vessel is French?”

      “I heartily doubt it. We are sailing fairly close to the coast.” He glanced back the way they had come. “But per haps we should return to the salon.”

      Grace let him lead her in that direction though she didn’t really want to go. In the moonlight, she could see the white gleam of sails just off the port side of the ship. The vessel had nearly reached them and her worry crept up another notch.

      “Looks like a schooner,” the earl said.

      The ship was long and low to the water, its tall, twin masts rising majestically above the sea. The earl spotted the British flag flying at the rear of the sleek black craft at the same moment Grace did and she could hear his sigh of relief.

      “Nothing to fear after all. The ship is one of our own.”

      “Yes, so it would seem….” But thinking of the reason for her journey, her unease did not lessen.

      “I’m sorry to interrupt your voyage, Captain.” Ethan Sharpe stood at the rail, speaking to Colin Chambers, captain of the Lady Anne. “But I’ve come on a matter of importance concerning one of your passengers.”

      “You don’t say? What sort of matter are you talking about?”

      “One of the passengers aboard your ship is wanted for questioning in regard