Underworld Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

over her shoulder and nodded to him demurely.
    He quickly got back to examining the book.
    “If I let you take it overnight, you must bring it back first thing in the morning,” Molly had said.
    Of course he could do that.
    “And you’ll owe me, Professor Carrington.” At first Carl wondered if she meant he had to pay a fee, but then when he caught on to her implication, he straightened his bowtie and felt his cheeks flame.
    He reached into his tweed jacket pocket and pulled out the index card with Molly’s phone number on it.
    “Call me if you want to turn it in tonight. I’ll take very good care of it until morning, I promise.”
    He felt his cheeks blush again. He had just been able to accept that he had dirty thoughts about the young redheaded library science student. But now that his attraction was being returned, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
    Conquering new territory here.
    The soft purr of a female voice jolted him back.
    “One frosty Newcastle. Anything else I can get you, Professor?” She finished it off with a wink.
    Carl winced and glanced around the room to see if he had attracted anyone else’s attention. He was sure his voice would sound like a ten-year-old, so he just shook his head and gulped his beer, holding it with both hands.
    The ice-cold liquid settled his nerves. His throat had been parched. The stuffy smoke-filled pub was noisy and hot. He removed his bowtie, put it in his pocket and attempted to undo his collar. It was like unbuttoning two pieces of cardboard, but at last the tiny button yielded and his neck was free.
    He took another sip of the draft and, drying his fingers on the thighs of his pants, flipped open the heavy navy blue front cover embossed in gold and black lettering. The first few pages were clear onionskin in a cream shade, crinkling as he turned each page carefully. He looked at the date of the publication.
    1860.
    Pirates of the Americas, by Sir Anthony Markham.
    Carl began to read the short prologue.
    I have attempted to explain the life of piracy certain brave young men took to when their families stopped supporting them and their fortunes waned. Lured by the call to adventure, they engaged in practices we might today consider criminal, yet they were in fact sanctioned and often openly supported by the Royal houses of England, France and Spain.
    These men, and a few women, were pawns in a much larger chess game played out by the kings and queens, knights and bishops of their time.
    And yet their bravery and gallantry, their respect for the code of the high seas made them royalty, without the golden robes and crowns. For wealth can be defined in many ways.
    Unlike their earthly masters, some even cheated death itself. I would like to think they rule over kingdoms we have yet to discover, that their graves house a bundle of bones but their souls reign supreme and live forever.
    —Sir A.M.
    June, 1856
    Carl thumbed through the list of chapters, not knowing which one he needed. His finger stopped at the Sixteenth Chapter entitled: The Life and Tragedy of Jonas Starling.
    Jonas Starling was born in 1667, the youngest of four brothers, and grew up in the country surrounding the town of York, where his father, the 3 rd Earl of Stratoven, had considerable lands and tended a well-managed family farm. He also had developed plantations in the Caribbean, and, as a young boy, Jonas had accompanied his father there to learn about overseeing his family’s interests in the islands some day.
    A tall handsome lad as a youth, he came to the attention of the ladies quite early. As the youngest son, he would not inherit, but if he married well, could advance his station in life considerably. So, at the age of eighteen, he was betrothed to the lovely Anne Mackenzie, only daughter and heir to Ian Mackenzie, a very wealthy Scottish Laird. This match would also secure Mackenzie’s ties to England, as his father had been rumored to be a supporter of the restoration of the Scottish