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one worthless female? The sharks can have her,” he concluded in disgust.
    Hakeem rolled aside to avoid Mehmed’s kick and quickly held out a hand to stop any further attack. “She had silver hair and eyes like amethysts. A goddess would envy her beauty.”
    Mehmed stopped, but now his anger took a new direction. “Idiot! Why didn’t you say so?”
    Hakeem sighed as the privateer was ordered about and the boat readied to be lowered once again. He had saved himself from further abuse, but what of the girl? He half wished they wouldn’t find her, though he didn’t understand why.

Chapter Four
    “T here’s a chap here to see you, my lord, waiting up at the house. Just missed you, he did. Wandered in on foot about five minutes after you rode out, but he’s still waiting, far as I know.”
    The Earl of Mulbury dismounted, handing the reins of his prize Thoroughbred over to the head groom. Black brows came together above emerald eyes as he glanced up the narrow path toward the house. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and his friends were all known to Harry, so for the moment his interest was piqued.
    “Are you sure it’s me he wants to speak with, not the Marquis?”
    “Asked for you by name, he did. Didn’t mention your grandfather. Didn’t say nothing else, actually. In fact, I’d say he doesn’t speak English. Had that look about him, if you know what I mean.”
    The Earl nodded, tamping down the urge to grin. Harry didn’t trust foreigners, ever since his daughter had run off with a Frenchman many years ago. Anyone with the slightest accent was suspect as far as Harry was concerned. His friend Marshall Fielding had always complained about Harry, because the groom often gave his couriers a bad time when they delivered dispatches here. But the chap awaiting him couldn’t be one of Marshall’s agents, since at the Marquis’s request the Earl was no longer involved with British intelligence, though he had never been seriously involved to begin with.
    There was no point wondering about it when the fellow awaited him. The Earl headed up the stable path, coming out on the right side of the Palladian-style mansion, residence of the Marquis of Huntstable, his grandfather. The Earl had his own estate in York, but aside from a short yearly visit there to be sure the old manor house was still standing and the tenants were happy with his steward, he lived here in Kent with his grandfather. It was by mutual choice. Notwithstanding the fact that he was the Marquis’s only heir, and so the old gentleman was frantic to keep him close and protected, they were also extremely fond of each other.
    “Your lordship, there is—”
    “Yes, I know, Mr. Walmsley,” the Earl cut the butler short as he handed over his hat, gloves, and riding quirt. “Where have you put him?”
    “I would have kept him here in the hall, milord, but the way he kept staring at the maids made them nervous, so I moved him to the little parlor.”
    “Rude, was he?”
    “You would think he had never seen a woman before,” was Mr. Walmsley’s opinion.
    Mobile lips turned up slightly at one comer. “Did he offer a card?”
    “He didn’t even give his name, milord,” the butler replied with marked distaste. “If you ask me—”
    “Never mind. I’ll see him now. And send in my usual tray, Mr. Walmsley, with enough for two.”
    The little parlor was located to the right of the mammoth hall, down a short corridor there, and at the back of the house. It caught the morning sun, making it a cheerful room, at least at this time of year. The sun was sadly lacking this morning, however, but the rain had held off until after the Earl hadenjoyed his morning ride. The room was still light enough with two ceiling-high windows so that lamps were not necessary, and the single occupant was quite visible, standing feeing the left wall, clearly fascinated with a shelf of antique clocks.
    The little fellow didn’t hear him enter, which was fortunate, for the Earl