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it.
    Not that she minded John's attentions. On the contrary, he made passing the time in Jamaica a pleasant interlude, but Grace was growing very tired of waiting. Even through the pouring rain, she could hear the constant whisper of the sea calling her back.
    John came up behind her and gently drew her hair over her shoulder to expose the back of her neck. He trailed soft kisses down her neck and onto her shoulder. Grace sighed at the sensual pleasure of it. He reached around and cupped a breast in his palm, and she settled back easily into his embrace.
    John began to slip the night dress from her shoulders when a knock came upon the door. They answered it with nothing but silence.
    When his knock went unanswered, a muffled voice called from the other side of the door, “A message for you, sir.”
    “I told you that I was not to be disturbed for any reason,” John growled back at the door.
    “It's an urgent message, sir,” the plaintive voice explained.
    “Later, later,” John dismissed the voice.
    A sudden tremendous thudding blow was delivered to the door and the jamb splintered. The door swung crazily from the frame to reveal a swarthy pirate holding Stapleton's manservant by the throat.
    “He told you it was urgent,” the cutthroat explained, tossing the man into the room.
    “What is the meaning of this?” Stapleton responded angrily, stepping between Lady Grace and the pirate.
    “Would you like to tell him or should I, Grace?” answered the pirate.
    Enraged, Grace shoved Stapleton out of the way and came toe to toe with the pirate.
    “Liam O'Shea, what the bloody hell are you doing? You're ruining everything!” she seethed.
    “Me? What about you? Your ship is sailing about without her captain while you're here bedding some pasty fop.”
    “Pasty fop?” Stapleton protested.
    “Oh, shut up,” they both retorted and then glared at one another.
    “Lest you forget, Captain O'Malley, this scheme was your idea. ‘Help me, Liam. It's in your own best interest, Liam’,” he mocked. “Are you even aware that for the last fortnight, Pippa . . .”
    “ . . . has been sending some extremely interesting information from the Ocean’s Whore ?” Grace finished the thought for him. “Of course I know Lizzie has picked a new target. Why do you think I'm spending time in the bedchambers of a fancy pants British civil servant?”
    “Grace, what's going on?” Stapleton cautiously queried.
    “Shut up, John,” she snapped. “Liam, if we can't get the British Navy to catch her in the act, this will all be for nothing. And thanks to Johnny here, I happen to know that the Commodore of the Navy in the West Indies was due to arrive here in Port Royal yesterday. I'm sure the storms have delayed his arrival, but now you've managed to ruin my introduction to him,” she growled at Liam.
    “I'm not the one who decided to stay in port to play dress-up, Grace. You haven't bothered to send word of any kind for weeks,” Liam growled back and grabbed her by the wrist.
    “If I hadn't been making regular contact with our network, O'Shea, then how would I know that the captain of the merchantman Hercules had enough of the Jamaican Governor holding up his ship for port fees. They sailed for Charleston early without escort. Just how would I know that without making contact,” she said as she tried to pull free of his grip.
    “You're sure the Hercules has sailed?”
    “As sure as I will slit your throat in your sleep if you don't let me go, O'Shea.”
    He relaxed his grip and let go of her hand.
    “Thanks to your damned pigheadedness, Captain Shireland will have her prize uncontested again.”
    “Grace, are you two saying that you know for a fact that Captain Elizabeth Shireland is planning an act of piracy in violation of her agreement with the Governor's pardon?” Stapleton dared to ask.
    “Did you fools ever think she'd really abide by any such agreement?” she sneered at the Governor's Secretary.
    “I must make a