Page 130 of The Pirate and the Pagan
Her eyes flew to his. “It was Oswald,” she said at last.
“God’s flesh, I might have guessed,” he said furiously. “The man hated me with a vengeance. I’m so very, very sorry, my little love, that he took his hatred for me out on you.” He went on his knees before her. “I swear to you, Summer, I will track him down and kill the bastard.”
“He’s dead,” she said low. “I killed him.”
He stared at her in horror. “Christ! What did he do to you?” Then his voice took on a tender, sad note. “Did he rape you?” His hands covered hers gently, trying to lend her courage to tell him the worst.
She shook her head. “He made no sexual demands on me.” She smiled a sad half smile. “Perhaps that would have been easier, but Oswald wasn’t a normal man.”
Ruark’s throat closed in frustrated fury as a teardrop rolled down her cheek. He brushed it away with gentle fingers and braced himself while she got it all out.
Summer loved him far too much to cause him much more distress, so she said softly, “He simply enjoyed being cruel. He branded my thumb and degraded us by cutting our hair and starving us. Let’s never speak of it again.”
His arms enfolded her and clasped her to his heart. “I’ll try to make it up to you, beloved.”
“Ru, you already have,” she assured him with all her heart.
Ruark took her small hand to his lips and kissed her scarred thumb, then he gathered her into his arms and held her until long after her sobs had subsided. She lay in his lap, sharing the big chair like they had done in the early days of their marriage.
Finally she lifted her head and braved looking into his eyes. She saw only compassion and love. “I’m so very tired,” she said simply.
He lifted her against his heart and took her to their great bed. With gentle hands he helped to undress her and pulled the soft covers up about her neck as he tucked her in securely. “Sleep, darling,” he murmured. “I love you very much.”
Totally safe for the first time since they had had their first quarrel, she fell into an undisturbed sleep. In the middle of the night something woke her and she sat up quickly, sensing that something was wrong. Ruark stood naked, distractedly running one hand through his hair, while his other arm clutched a wailing Ryan.
Ruark called to her helplessly, “Summer, Summer, the young bugger won’t stop howling.”
“Where’s Mrs. Bishop?”
“I banished her to Roseland for the night. I thought we could handle him ourselves,” he said sheepishly. “I went down to get him some milk; I even warmed it, but the young bugger threw it on the floor.”
For a moment she panicked, then she laughed and held out her arms to them. In three great strides he was beside the bed. He handed her their agitated son and climbed in beside her. Summer’s arms gathered the baby to her breast and she rocked him back and forth, making soothing, motherly noises which Ryan found much to his liking. He clung to her desperately, no longer the willful one-year-old, but a baby again for the darkest hours of the night, needing to be cuddled and loved until he drifted off into a trustful sleep.
Their baby lay enfolded between their two bodies. Ruark’s fingers entwined with Summer’s and they spent the lovely warm, dark hours of the night whispering love words and exchanging thousands of gentle kisses, while their three heartbeats mingled and bonded forever. Ruark prayed silently, Dear God, I don’t ask for anything more, just don’t take anything away.
In the morning when her brother Spider arrived, she couldn’t believe the change in him. He was so tall and broad; the boy had disappeared forever and in his place stood a man.
“I sold Roseland to him.” Ruark laughed. “You’ll have enough to do looking after Helford Hall.”
Spider grinned. “He sold it to me for five gold crowns so I could afford my own ship with my profits from Madagascar.”
“You have no regrets about the voyage then?” asked Summer.
“Of course I have regrets; I missed out on the war!”
Summer smiled, understanding at last. “Ruark planned it that way to keep you safe for me.”
Spider looked at her keenly. “I’m going to say this, Cat, whether you like it or not. I hope to God you’re ready to stop leading a dissolute life, racketing about London. You’re as thin as a damned rail. I don’t think you’ve tried very damned hard to be a good wife and mother either.” He looked pointedly at Ruark. “If she were my wife, I’d be tempted to take my hand to her backside. If you give her an inch, you know, she’ll take whole bloody mile.”
Ruark tried unsuccessfully to conceal a grin. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve been tempted to take my hand to her backside.”
She slanted him a glance and a fierce wildness pulsed in her blood.
Spider stayed for lunch and Summer allowed Ryan to sit at the big table with the adults. She could see that her brother and her son were already fast friends and her heart swelled with thankfulness for all her blessings until she thought it might burst.
In the afternoon Ruark slung a hammock for her in the secluded part of the garden that was the most headily fragrant. She lay back in it obediently and Ruark sat on its edge gazing down at her. She lifted her hand to touch his clean-shaven cheek. “I can’t understand why I never guessed Rory was you,” she said, remembering the unshaven beard and the zigzag of white hair. “Why did you play such a damnable trick on me?”
“I couldn’t breach the antagonism between us. After I lost my damnable temper and said all those cruel things to you, I regretted it almost immediately. But it was too late. Every time we spoke, we fought like cat and dog. You were much more amenable to Rory. You were completely yourself—no lies, no subterfuge. You certainly weren’t about to let Ruark make love to you, so I seduced you as Rory.”
