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laird.”
    “I told you, I do not know where he is. I am not this Megs you speak of. I am Lady Linnet Mulgrave of—”
    “Of London, on Craven Road, where you made your home with your dearly departed husband, Wilton.”
    “Yes.”
    The room went absolutely silent.
    “William!” she corrected. “His name was William.”
    Cairn smiled and slipped his palm behind her neck. Her hair felt warm and soft against his knuckles, suggesting other places that would surely be warmer and softer still. “It’s cold in the dungeon, Megs. Dank and dark. And lonely. If you’re lucky enough to have a cell to yourself.”
    She raised her chin a fraction of an inch. It was small and peaked beneath a delicately squared jaw. “I just arrived on your isle. Check the captain’s log if you do not believe me.”
    Her hair was heavy and dark. Shiny as the North Star, it swept over her shoulders and around her well curved hips. Bonny hair , murmured Hoary.
    “There will be a record of my passage.”
    “What’s that?” Cairn asked, speaking over his nether parts.
    “The ship,” she said. “It was called the Melody . Its captain was named Mr. Beuren. He will remember me.”
    “I am certain he would,” he said and skimmed his thumb along her throat. Damn, it was soft. “And I suspect you called yourself Mrs. Mulgrave, aye?”
    “I called myself that because that is my name.”
    “And you came all the way from London alone?”
    “No. I had…a companion.”
    He raised his brows. Companion? Hoary said. “Companion?” Cairn repeated.
    “I asked Ralph to accompany me. I had never been to Teleere before.”
    “Ralph?” he asked. He had no particular reason for his interest, of course, but he was curious as to the relationship she had with this companion.
    She blinked. Her eyes were enormously wide. She must not have seen more than eight and ten years. Barely old enough to dress herself. I’ll help her , Hoary volunteered
    “I commissioned him to accompany me here,” she said.
    Running his hand down her back, Cairn felt her shiver at the descent. “You hired a man to accompany you?”
    Her gaze shifted slightly. Perhaps it was the first true sign of weakness he had seen in her story. True, she had mis-stepped when he’d said Wilton instead of William, but that could have been an honest mistake. Now though, he saw the first signs of uncertainty.
    “Yes,” she said, and gathered her composure like a miller might gather bits of chaff. “I had heard the wharves of Teleere could be dangerous, so I opted for a…bodyguard of sorts.”
    “I can’t imagine you had to pay him much,” he said, and drew his hand away. Hoary complained vociferously.
    “I am not a thief,” she said. “Regardless what you think of me, I am an honest citizen with a goodly income. I paid him quite handsomely. In fact I could—”
    “I meant I doubt you’d have to pay any man a great deal to guard your body so long as his treasures are safely hidden elsewhere.”
    She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it suddenly. “I will pay you.” Her tone was crisp and ultimately self-assured.
    He raised a brow. Some had called him a pirate, some a privateer. He tried not to take offense to either. Piracy, after all, was as honest as most enterprises. “Pay me?”
    “For my release,” she explained.
    He canted his head. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement. What can you offer?”
    He noticed that she had stopped breathing. Perhaps he was watching her bosom a bit more closely than caution necessitated, but it seemed that she was hanging on his every word.
    “What do you want?” she asked.
    “Wheaton’s whereabouts.”
    “Damn you!” she swore, and swung her hand up to slap him.
    He caught it easily, inches from his cheek. Passion. It shone in her eyes. Did Wheaton always evoke such passion in women? Even women like this small, cool thief? Had Elizabeth been passionate in his arms?
    “I know no one named Wheaton,” she hissed.
    He held his