Read Online Sweet Piracy by Jennifer Blake - Free Book Online

launched into society. I discovered to my dismay that my father had not made his way in the world particularly well. He died penniless. In fact, he was head over heels in debt—”
    The Marquis made a soft sound which Caroline took to be commiseration.
    “Indeed, not an unusual story,” she went on. “My father was a good man, warm and friendly, full of life; it was just that he chose an unfortunate moment to try a wall with a ditch on the other side. A few months earlier, a few later, and he would have been in funds—”
    “But not, I apprehend, enough to establish you as a young woman of independent means?”
    “No,” she said baldly. “I sold what there was to sell and went to live with my mother’s sister. It was a temporary arrangement since she was barely able to keep herself and her children on her husband’s stipend. It was she who suggested I write to Uncle Benjamin.”
    “Surely there was some other alternative? A husband, for instance? You need not try to convince me you had no prospects in the London marriage mart, for I won’t believe you.”
    “No indeed, I am as vain as anyone of my conquests. The week before my father died I was forced to listen to no fewer than three protestations of undying love. The prospect of receiving a dowerless bride, however, dealt a death blow to the ardor of all three. My pride, I assure you, was no less affected.”
    “So you turned your back on England?”
    “I sat down and listed those accomplishments I possessed which I felt might have a value. They were few. I am an indifferent needlewoman, a punishing pianist, and an only passable sketch artist. I am fairly proficient in the French tongue, a good rider, and a veritable paragon on the dance floor. Something more was required to please a mother of young daughters, at least in England.”
    Flicking a glance over the soft curls about her face, teased from her tidy chignon by the breeze, and her wide-spaced, smoke-colored eyes, he seemed about to speak, then obviously thought better of it.
    When he remained silent, she went on. “I wrote to my uncle and was assured of a welcome. Within a month I packed my trunks and my boxes and took ship. All might have been well except for my uncle’s Creole wife. She was not disposed to like me, and nothing she saw when I arrived changed her mind. The — disharmony — between us was most uncomfortable both for me and my Uncle Benjamin. I made the discovery, however, that as an Englishwoman here in this portion of the United States I had a value I did not possess in England. I have a certain uniqueness, you see, what might be called a snob appeal. The Creoles, the French and Spanish people born in this foreign land, begin to see the value of cultivating the despised Americans. The Americans are indisputably the controllers of the commerce along the river, and thus the wealth, you see? But in order to effect this cultivation in the most lucrative manner, the Creole sons and daughters must be taught to converse in the barbarous language, English.”
    “I see,” the Marquis said, his expression so remote that Caroline feared she was boring him.
    She finished quickly. “My uncle’s wife is connected by marriage to the family of Madame Delacroix, who was in need of supervision for her daughters. The thing arranged itself.”
    The Marquis frowned, his eyes focused on the middle distance between the ship and the passing shoreline. Abruptly he got to his feet. “Your pardon, Mademoiselle Pembroke,” he said with a half bow, and walked briskly away to where his first officer stood amidships.
    His purpose was made plain as orders were shouted and the ship began to lose way.
    “Why are we turning so soon?” Victor called.
    Rochefort made a sweeping gesture with one arm. “Look around you.”
    Caroline looked but could see little. The trees along the near shore had fallen still. Clouds, white edged in gray, rolled in the high, wide sky, and the brown water reflected their glow