Page 49 of The Pirate and the Pagan
“Well, they may have put a hole in your side, but they didn’t get the cargo,” said Ruark happily.
“Bastards sank one of the East India ships, though. We saved most of the crew and t’other ship’s on its way to London.”
“Bloody Dutch!” echoed Ruark. “I don’t know why the hell we don’t declare war on them … it’ll come to that in the end anyway.”
“Well, war or no war, the bloody Dutchman who was greedy enough to tail me into the Scilly’s found a watery grave.”
“You sank her?” asked Ruark.
He nodded. “With all hands.”
“Good man. The King’s here in Plymouth. I’ll tell him what you did. Let’s see what you’ve got,” said Ruark, taking Summer’s hand to guide her belowdecks.
The air was redolent with the heady tang of spices. “I’ve never smelled anything like this before. What is it?” she asked curiously.
“I’ve no sense of smell, ma’am, but they do say cloves and nutmegs are the strongest.”
Ruark sniffed the air. “You’ve got cinnamon and green ginger and frankincense and what’s that drug called … camphire, that’s it.”
“I’ve got everything—pepper, mace, aloes, tea.” The captain nodded.
“Oh, how wonderful; may I have some?” asked Summer.
“Get one of the men to pack my wife some of each,” instructed Ruark.
“Oh, I only meant tea—not everything,” she protested.
Ruark grinned, delighted that he could give her the riches of China and the Indies. “This is nothing, darling. Wait until you see the bales of silks and damasks. Have you any fashions the London ladies are demanding?” asked Ruark.
Captain Hardcastle winked with relish and took them to a storage cabin. Summer couldn’t believe her eyes. There were trunks filled with mantuoes—gowns worn open down the front to show a flash of elaborate petticoat. Other trunks held Indian gowns called negligees of the finest cobwebbed cotton embroidered all over with pearls and crystals. Ruark told her to choose and after great deliberation she picked a turquoise mantuoe and a pale green petticoat embroidered with silvery thread.
Ruark picked up another mantuoe which he said was melon color. She had never seen a melon, but the color looked like a sunburst. He piled her arms high with Indian gown negligees before they moved to another cargo hold which contained hundreds of bolts of cloth. A sigh of wonder escaped her lips as she drank in the exotic colors and textures laid out before her. They were so fine she hesitated to even reach out a hand to touch them until Ruark took some of the great bolts and unrolled them across the floor.
She chose a bolt of tissue-thin silk damask in pink as pale as the blush of dawn and another bolt of stiff, rustling taffeta which had the color and crackle of flames.
“And this,” said Ruark, choosing the altobassos cloth of gold.
Some of the calicos and chintzes had fantastic painted patterns covered with sprigs of flowers, seed pods, vines, and trailing grasses. Others had native birds flitting about trees of bamboo and Summer thought what beautiful drapes and bedhangings they would make. She pictured how splendidly she could refurbish Roseland and tucked the thought away for another day in the near future.
Captain Hardcastle said, “I’ve cane chairs and lacquered cabinets and other furnishings.” Ruark shook his head. “The attics at Helford Hall are filled with the stuff.”
“Oh, Ru, may I see them?”
“They are your attics, darling.”
The light was fading before they were rowed to the quay. It took three sailors to carry the treasures Summer had plundered from the hold of the Golden Goddess and they staggered with laden arms behind Lord and Lady Helford as they made their way to the Shipp Inn.
No sooner had a hearty meal been brought up to their suite than a message was brought for Lord Helford. He opened the note and scanned its contents. “It’s from the King. He asks I attend him.” Ruark bit his lip, not really wanting to leave Summer alone.
“Where is he?” asked Summer, alarmed that His Majesty could be in the next room and walk in at any moment.
“He, Buckingham, and Lauderdale are aboard the Royal Oak.” He looked hesitant.
Summer urged, “You must go. Please don’t think me such a clinging, useless creature you cannot leave me alone,”
“I’m sorry, darling. Married to me, you will find yourself alone only too often, I’m afraid. I’ll order a chambermaid for you.” He looked regretful. “Don’t wait up for me, sweetheart.”
As she undressed for bed she missed him terribly in spite of her assurances. She wanted to be undressed by him, she wanted to see his eyes as each part of her body was revealed, she wanted the feel of his hot mouth upon her skin as he tasted her. She knew she was being ridiculous.
