Chapter 23
Finally she could bear it no longer and took over the direction of the conversation herself. “Lord Helford, is it true you took possession of two foreign ships this week?”
“So,” he said, his eyes sweeping over brother and sister, “my business is common knowledge in these parts, I see.”
She lifted the corners of her mouth. “The very walls whisper of the exploits of High Commissioner Helford. What will you do with the ships?”
He seemed to weigh his words carefully before he answered. “The Dutchman had been picked clean.” He grimaced. “The work of wreckers. It carried only a skeleton crew, so one or two bodies might soon wash up. I’m sending the ship to Plymouth. His Majesty is building up the navy at last.”
She dared not look at Spider, for they held contraband which would connect them with the brutal, bloody business of wrecking. Quickly she asked, “And the other ship?”
“We caught the raiders red-handed, so her cargo was intact. I’m sending it to London tomorrow.”
“I suppose you’ll make her crew swim back to Brittany?” she jested.
His face became grim and hard. “Piracy carries the death penalty.”
The delicious minted lamb turned to ashes in her mouth. Then almost immediately her brother saw a spark of defiance come to her aid. Her great cat’s eyes hid their fear for an instant under white lids, then flashed out with renewed fire, her sensitive nostrils flaring. “Lord Helford, I wonder if I could impose upon you to carry something to London on that ship?” Spider almost choked on his wine.
“It is no imposition, Lady Summer, to perform a service for you,” he said formally, but his eyes were alive with the sight of her and belied the formality.
“My father left his sister, Lady Richwood, some valuable paintings. If Spencer crates them and delivers the crates to the ship in the morning, would you instruct one of your trustworthy seamen to deliver them to Cockspur Street?”
“Consider it done,” he said, smiling.
Spider marveled at her coolness, but by the set of her chin she wasn’t finished with Helford yet.
“Lord Helford, you were once a pirate yourself, were you not?”
His eyes narrowed. “I served the King as a privateer under command of Prince Rupert.”
Spider’s mouth fell open, all reserve gone completely, as he asked with boyish enthusiasm, “You served under Rupert, sir?”
Summer may as well not have been present after that as the two men warmed to their subject. Rupert the Devil, Rupert the Military Genius, Rupert the King’s Cousin, Rupert the Soldier-and-Sailor Prince, Rupert the Universal Admiral, dominated their conversation.
Summer almost fell asleep as the tales of Rupert began with his birth. “Did you know the first words he ever spoke were ‘goddamn’! He was fully trained in arms by the age of eight and in the army before he was thirteen.”
It was over an hour later that Summer heard Ruark say, “Next time he comes to Cornwall you must meet him. He loves us Cornishmen, says the sea puts a tantalizing tang in our nostrils.”
As her eyes went back and forth between the two she sat stunned as they lifted their glasses high and burst into a sea chanty, “Damn ’em, and ram ’em, and sink ’em to hell.”
Summer got to her feet. “Spencer, it’s very late.”
“Oh, is it?” he asked, surprised, then he saw Summer’s compressed lips and Ruark’s secret amusement and said reluctantly, “I’ll get my horse.”
The moment he left the room, Ruark slipped his arms about her and drew her to him. She put back her head and gazed up at his laughing eyes. “I had a wretched evening,” she whispered. “Half the night I was miserable thinking he was going to demand if your intentions were honorable and the other half, you devious devil, you had him eating out of your hand.”
“You are so beautiful tonight, I don’t know how I kept my hands from you.” As he gazed down at her he had an unimpeded view of her neck, shoulders, and breasts. “This gown cries out for jewels. What do you like?” he murmured.
She drawled, “I’m particularly partial to rubies.”
His lips brushed hers softly. “Rubies would be perfect. Good night, love. Come back to me soon.”
To add insult to injury, Spider, on the ride home, said, “You know, Cat, if you intend to wed Lord Helford, I think you’d better reform.”
“Before or after we smuggle the Brussels lace aboard his vessel?” she asked dryly.
    Next morning the fog lay thick upon the sea, blanketing everything farther than a foot from her nose. The weather never deterred Summer from her dawn ritual, however, so she donned her breeches and walked the mile to the stables at the Helford estate. The grooms and stableboys were familiar with her long-legged figure by now, but this morning they only nodded politely instead of the usual friendly greeting.
Ebony whinnied his welcome, however, as she moved forward into the loose box and picked up his bridle. She turned quickly at a sound behind her and saw the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Ruark enter the box with her.
“I don’t like it,” he said gravely, looming over her in the dawn’s half-light.
“My masculine attire?” she asked, laughing.
“Masculine?” he puzzled, remembering she’d said that before. The figure-revealing breeches and lawn shirt showed off much too much woman in his opinion.
“No, love, I don’t like you riding in this fog. It’s dangerous.”
“That’s the reason I love to do it,” she teased. “What music, drink, or love does for most, danger does for me.”
He groaned and pulled her into his arms. Her words had hardened him instantly. He pressed her against his arousal and dipped his head to taste her luscious mouth. He was dressed in formal navy blue as befitted his office and regretted that if he laid her in the hay, he would be covered with the telltale straws. “When are we going to have more than a few stolen minutes together?” he murmured thickly against her mouth.
She gave him a tiny kiss. “This week?” She gave him another tiny kiss. “Next week?” She kissed him again. “Sometime?” And again. “Never?”
“I swear I’ll run mad if you keep teasing me. Next week will be even busier than this one. Charles’s mother and sister are coming from France for a visit. They’ll be sailing into Portsmouth in a fortnight, so next week Charles and a lot of the court are coming first to Plymouth while he inspects his navy firsthand.”
“Will he go to war against Holland?” she asked.
He kissed her nose. “You ask too many questions. I’ll be away tonight. Will you come tomorrow night?”
She clung to him in the dimly lit privacy of the loose box, trying to control the restless devils inside her who fought and struggled for release. She wondered if all women in love were torn between two impulses. She longed to throw modesty to the winds and urge him to make love to her, and yet the thought kept intruding to be cool, aloof, utterly detached. Perhaps she should die rather than be the first to admit a thing so personal and intimate as love. “I don’t know if I will come or not,” she said with brutal honesty. “I know I should not, but if I cannot keep away from you, than I shall come.”
“Summer, by letting me set the pace, you are forcing me to act honorably toward you.” He ran a possessive hand down her back. “God’s flesh, ’tis the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“Act honorably?” she murmured, full of devilry.
He laughed. “Oh God, I want to be so dishonorable with you.”
“Mmmm,” she said, licking her lips over the thought. Her restless horse, tired of waiting, walked out of the stall without her and she pulled out of Ruark’s arms to follow him.
He whispered huskily, “I’ll come home early tomorrow night, and I’ll try my best not to act dishonorably.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Then perhaps I won’t come after all,” she teased unmercifully.