Page 45 of The Pirate and the Pagan
“Mais oui,” assured the maid, “thees way no one weel whisper that they are false.”
Ruark took up the ruby necklace and smiled into Summer’s eyes. “There’s not much point in wearing these … no one will even notice them.”
“Oh, darling, I’d feel naked without them.”
“You would be naked without them,” he teased.
She slipped the bracelets up her arms and admired her reflection in the looking glass.
His lips brushed her ear. “I’ll have to buy you some more jewels.”
“No, Ru, you’ve already been too generous,” she protested.
“I’m very vain about my wife. I enjoy giving you jewels and trinkets. Let me spoil you. Come on, I want to show you off downstairs.”
“Can we look at the gardens first?” she pleaded, slipping the ribbon of her fan over her arm.
He fastened a slim sword on his hip. “I might need this to keep the men away from you. They’ll be jumping out from behind every bush.”
The magnificent ivy-covered home of the Grenviles stood in a two-hundred-and-fifty-acre park. Its gardens were on many different levels as they descended the valley below the house, and contained ponds, rills, old yew hedges, terraced flower borders, and trees which bloomed in their turn every month of the year—from camellias, azaleas, and magnolias to the great copper beeches which shaded the walks.
All the ladies had decided to view the gardens at the same time and had persuaded the gentlemen to escort them, but none would venture beyond the stone walks for fear of soiling their fancy evening slippers. None, that is, except Summer, who took her husband’s hand and led him to the more lush and secluded garden paths. They came upon a small spring with mossy walls which opened up into a brook with floating wildflowers. Summer was enchanted by it. “Oh, Ruark, could we have a water garden?”
He pulled her into his arms. “You may have anything you desire.”
She sighed blissfully and leaned against him. She loved him very much and knew just how lucky she had been to find such a generous and loving man, who was going to take care of all the worries that had dogged her young years. She felt she had been kissed by the gods!
On the way back they stopped in at the cider house and shared a loving cup. It was so strong she pretended to stagger and he offered to carry her. She shook her head, laughing. “We’d cause a scandal. Wives aren’t supposed to love their husbands, ’tis unfashionable. You had better pick a lady to receive your attentions at dinner. The lovely Lady Castlemaine perhaps?”
“She’s no lady,” he said low, giving her his undivided attention. “She’s too overblown for my taste and another drawback with Babs is her fecundity. All Charles has to do is throw his breeches on the bed and she’s up the stick.”
By this time they had reentered the house and there across the room was the woman they were discussing. Summer couldn’t stop laughing. He bent his lips to her ear. “She’s also …”
Summer gave him a sharp slap with her fan and hissed, “Ruark, stop!”
Barbara Castlemaine swept across the room to them. She wore a wine-colored gown in the identical shade of dark red as her hair. The gown was the latest fashion, split down the front to expose a gold-tissue petticoat, and the sleeves were decorated with yards of gold ribbon. She wore a necklace and matching ear bobs of golden topaz.
“Helford,” she drawled, “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” She was looking Summer up and down critically, thinking the white gown ridiculously missish, but the rubies were not to be dismissed lightly.
Ruark’s manners were faultless. He bowed low and said, “My Lady Castlemaine, may I present my wife, Lady Summer St. Catherine Helford?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Ruark Helford married? Since when?”
“Since last evening at this hour,” he said.
Summer flushed and fanned herself furiously.
A little pigeon to be plucked, thought Barbara. She smiled archly at the bride. “I believe we already have something in common, besides our taste in men, of course. Obviously we both like jewels. I’ll enjoy a game of trick track with you after dinner.” Then Henry Jermyn approached and Barbara took his arm and swept off.
“She wanted me to think you’d slept with her,” said Summer furiously.
“Yes,” said Ruark.
“Yes?” repeated Summer hotly.
“Yes, she wanted you to think that. I wonder if poor Jermyn has been elected stud until Charles arrives?”
“Ru, stop!” She again slapped him with her fan, but her good humor had been restored.
