Breath warm and comforting in her ear, Matteo murmured, “I know he is far braver than I, stronger probably, smarter, but I guarantee I am a better dancer.”

Turning to him, not trying to hide her confusion, Scarlet asked, “Who?”

He hesitated, seemed almost fearful. “The Pimpernel.”

Trying to keep her grin small, she said, “You are correct on all fronts, except one. The Pimpernel is also a better dancer.”

Matteo stiffened, but she faced him and placed a hand on his arm. Turning to look behind her, she called, “Simon, would you and the men come here for a moment?”

Once they had gathered, she said, “Matteo and I are having a bit of a discussion about the Pimpernel. He is of the opinion that this heroic person is stronger than Matteo himself must be.” She looked around to gauge their reaction, and they all nodded their heads. “Braver?” They nodded again, some hiding smiles.

Matteo shifted beside her. “Scarlet, really, your point is made.”

“Now, just a moment. We must explore your other points, equally. Is the Pimpernel also smarter?”

“Most definitely.” Simon nodded.

“No thanks for that, man.” Matteo’s eyes narrowed farther. He adjusted his body as if preparing to leave them.

“Darling, no. Stay. You won’t regret it.” She turned to him apologetically.

Studying her for a moment, he resettled, hugging Scarlet from behind.

Scarlet held up a finger. “There is one more point we must discuss. It is also Matteo’s belief that he is a better dancer. What say you?”

This time the league paused. Simon chimed in, “Well, now, I’ve never danced with him.” He indicated Matteo. “As to his prowess, I cannot attest.” He grinned. “But the Pimpernel—she is unmatched in her sex.” He bowed to Scarlet.

“She?” Matteo turned Scarlet’s body so he could see into her face. “She? You?”

This time she allowed a smile to fill her face. “What a relief that you now know. Yes, it is I, and this is a part of my league. Andrew, you see, is missing, and there are eight more in England, three in the South of France right now.”

Rubbing his face, he remained silent for a moment.

“I married the Pimpernel?”

The men nodded in sympathy.

Lord Courtenay called out, “Best of luck, man.”

A few spoke other words of condolence as they stepped away. One said, “Have the devil of a time,” as they moved farther down the deck, shaking their heads and covering laughs.

Simon, the last to go, reached forward and gripped his shoulder. “We couldn’t have picked a better man to join our league. Welcome, Matteo.” Their eyes met, and Scarlet’s heart warmed to see trust flow between them. Then Simon stepped back a pace or two.