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later.”
    Disgusted, Richard left the cabin and twisted the key in the lock. What the devil kind of hold did Lowell have over the woman that she would prostitute herself like this? Hell, you’d think she’d jumpat the chance to be rid of such a lice-bag. Yet here she was, ready to sacrifice her honor to save him.
    To all appearances, at least.
    A quick, slashing grin cut across Richard’s face. The next hour or so should prove interesting, at the very least. When North returned to resume his guard post, the captain climbed to the open deck.
    “Mr. McDougal!”
    At his call, his third lieutenant came running.
    “What’s the count on the crew of the Linx ?”
    “All two hundred seventy men at quarters and twenty-two boys accounted for. More than half are still snoring below decks. The rest are under close guard.”
    “How many dead or injured?”
    “None dead, sir. Two wounded. A boatswain took a musket ball through the shoulder. A broken spar landed atop one of the master’s mates and dented his pepperbox. He’ll be seeing mermaids dancing jigs with sea dragons for a while yet.”
    “And our men?”
    “Nary a scratch or a splinter among ’em.”
    “What about the twelve who were pressed?”
    “All right and tight and ready to climb back aboard the Seahawk. So are another dozen or more who claim they, too, were shanghaied off American ships. I expect that number will rise when the others come awake,” the lieutenant added dryly.
    “I expect it will.”
    For the first time since dousing his ship’s lights and laying on all sail to bear down on the Linx, Richard relaxed his taut muscles.
    “Damned if we didn’t pull it off, Mr. McDougal.”
    “That we did, sir.”
    The two men shared a grin until Richard shipped a quarterdeck face again.
    The slang expression was more than appropriate, he thought. Officers might relax discipline among themselves or with the crew during a theatrical or musicale put on to relieve the boredom at sea. When a captain assumed a more deliberate demeanor, it prompted a return to strict observance of rank and protocol.
    “Signal the Seahawk and advise that we’ve secured the Linx and her crew.”
    “Aye, aye, sir. Do you want me to ready the boarding party for departure?”
    “Not yet. As you said, there may be more pressed Americans among those still in a stupor below decks. I mislike leaving them behind.”
    Not to mention leaving the lady awaiting him below. Richard’s blood heated at the thought of taking another taste of her, but he was too experienced a captain to sail into an uncharted harbor without taking careful soundings.
    “Where’s Jenkins?”
    Carpenter’s Mate Jenkins was the senior of theAmericans taken off the Seahawk by Lowell’s men. He’d spent the past five months aboard the Linx. If anyone knew the scuttlebutt concerning the British captain and his intended, it would be him.
    “He’s on the aft deck, sir, mounting guard over the officers.”
    Richard found the tall, spare North Carolinian easily enough. He stood silhouetted against the flare of the ship’s lanterns, pistol cocked and finger itching for just one of the officers who’d made him dance under the lash these past months to make a misguided move.
    They were a sullen lot. Richard supposed he would be, as well, if he served under a captain like Lowell. He’d addressed them earlier when he’d taken their parole, and spared them only a swift glance now.
    “A word with you, Jenkins.”
    “Aye, sir.”
    Leaving the other guards at the ready, the carpenter’s mate joined his captain in the dark shadow cast by the mainmast.
    “What do you know of Lady Stanton?”
    “She came aboard at Plymouth, sir. Word ’tween decks is she has a reputation that would put a waterfront whore to the blush.”
    She’d said something close to that, Richard remembered. Try as he would, though, he couldn’t make the picture of a high-born doxie fit. She hada sensual air about her, to be sure, and her gown