Page 26 of The Pirate and the Pagan
“I’m going to seduce you, Summer,” he threatened, to give her fair warning.
“I don’t care, Ruark. If that is what you want, then seduce me.”
He groaned hoarsely and bit back a curse. He drew her to a bower and pulled her to the seat beside him. “Forgive me, love, for my rampant male behavior. I should be shot.”
His mind searched desperately for safe ground and he turned to the subject of his work. “It’s a good thing I’m going to be kept busy here. Tomorrow I have to visit the local militia and read them the riot act. They’ve been so slack, smuggling and even wrecking goes on under their noses. I intend to tear a strip off someone. I’ve got reinforcements coming down from the Bristol garrison. Then I’ll inspect the Marine Patrol and their ships and point out their shortcomings. I’m going to be a very popular man,” he said ruefully.
“Will you have to be away from home often?” she asked ingenuously.
“Yes, I’ll have a circuit of courts at Falmouth, Penzance, Newquay, St. Austell, Bodmin, Saltash, and Plymouth.”
“Plymouth is in Devon,” she ventured.
“Yes, but I have jurisdiction. You see, it’s too easy for Cornwall criminals to run across into Devon and think themselves safe from the long arm of the law.”
“You won’t really have to sentence people to death, will you?” she asked in a small voice.
He hesitated, then told her the truth. “I’m afraid so, Summer, but I will always be fair, impartial.”
“I trust you,” she said softly.
“That is unwise,” he murmured.
“I throw myself upon your mercy,” she said, laughing.
“I am known to be merciless,” he admitted.
Her heart beat thickly with fear, for she knew he spoke the truth. Surely Spider would be finished with the business by now. She arose to walk slowly back toward the hall and he followed, keeping his dangerous hands stuffed into his pockets so they would not reach out to crush the delicate primrose.
As they approached the house, Mr. Burke came to the door with a lantern in his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Burke, I shall see the lady home.”
Panic rose in her throat. She gasped, “I’ll not scandalize your servants.”
“Mr. Burke would not tolerate such gossip among his staff,” Ruark asserted.
“Then Mr. Burke is a most upright man.” She smiled at the Irishman. “Would you do me the honor, sir, of lighting me home?”
Mr. Burke bowed formally and glanced at Ruark. “The lady knows what is correct even if the lord does not,” he said dryly.
As soon as Summer looked down from her window and saw a man leading two horses, she knew it was the fellow who had bought Ebony. She sent a silent prayer to St. Jude that she had acted promptly in removing her stallion to the Helford estate and shouted down to the kitchen where she could hear her brother boiling the kettle for breakfast. “Spider,” she called urgently, “go out the back way and get your pony out of the stables. Better clean up the horse droppings, too … spread it on the kitchen garden.”
She grabbed an old gown which had gone to the rag bag a year ago and tousled her hair untidily with both hands. Automatically she thrust her knife into her belt, then she ran lithely down to the kitchen, chopped a spring onion, and held it to her eyes until they watered with irritation, then went outside to face their visitor.
She looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. “Did you bring us food, sir?” she asked hopefully.
“No,” he answered, slightly annoyed. “I’m here on business. Is Lord St. Catherine here, girl?”
The tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “My father is dead, sir,” she whispered.
The horse man frowned. He eyed the raggy gown apprehensively. “I have a receipt here for a black Barbary I purchased from St. Catherine a month back. I’ve come to collect him.”
“Sir, what is a black Barbary?”
“A horse, girl, a horse!”
“It has been a long time since we could afford to keep horses, sir,” she said with embarrassment.
