Page 61 of The Pirate and the Pagan
Since the King had gone off with Summer Helford, Barbara put a good face on it and prepared to partner Buckingham. Barbara’s friend the Countess of Shrewsbury said, “Dammit, Barbara, how is it you get two of the most virile men at Court?”
“George is my cousin, you know that!” protested Barbara.
“So? That never stopped anyone. Tell me the truth, have you never lain with him?”
Barbara whispered behind her fan, “George has peculiar tastes. He frequents a brothel in the Haymarket where they pander to perversion.”
“Really?” drawled Anna Maria, sensing a challenge. She walked over to Buckingham and licked her lips. “I doubt very much if ambergris would work as well as other devices I could name.”
Buckingham’s eyes were on her mouth as her tongue outlined her lips again. She continued, “When the senses are slightly jaded, a man needs more voluptuous stimulation than powders to drink. Tell me, your grace, have you ever heard of the ingenious Oriental rings?”
“Anna Maria, I have heard of them and seen a demonstration of their efficacy, but, alas, I have never been able to procure any.”
She smiled. “I happen to have a collection of Chinese curios Shrewsbury brought home from the East. He hasn’t the vaguest notion they are sexual devices.” She tapped his arm intimately with her fan.
“I think,” said Buckingham, taking her elbow, “we would make formidable partners.”
In the end it was Dick Talbot, a huge and handsome friend of the King’s celebrating his thirty-third birthday, who was declared winner of the treasure hunt. Though he had so far escaped matrimony, he was rumored to have bastards sprinkled all over England. The prize was presented with great ceremony amid a veritable hailstorm of lewd, rude, and crude bon mots.
Summer stood on tiptoe to press a kiss to his ruddy cheek as he accepted the gilt casket from her hands and, taking the ribbing like a good sport, announced, “See, it’s already working.”
Dinner was served in the formal dining salon of Helford Hall. An immense oval refectory table accommodated the whole company of nearly one hundred. Summer, as hostess, sat between the King and her husband. Ruark’s attentiveness almost undid her. How could he play the role of devoted bridegroom while despising her?
She gave the lion’s share of her attention to Charles, but it was impossible to ignore her husband completely since he and Charles carried on a conversation with each other, and her presence between them inhibited their topics in no way.
Charles said, “I think Harry Killigrew deserves a prize for dallying in the gardens two hours longer than anyone else.”
Ruark laughed. “Wild Harry, I heard, made love to not one, but two countesses this afternoon.”
Summer’s mouth gaped. “How can you laugh? I distinctly remember you saying that anyone caught with another man’s wife should be shot!”
He winked at Charles. “The key word, my little innocent, was ‘caught,’” he said with his wolf’s grin.
“Oh!” she said, and deliberately turned her back upon him, but it did not free her mind of his strong image. She seethed as his insufferable laughter rang out over her head.
The King looked her over with appreciative eyes and said, “I see you have changed your gown, madame, I swear you must have more dresses than Lady Castlemaine.” He pulled a rueful face. “This visit will cost me a pretty penny, I’ll warrant.”
She glanced at Ruark from beneath her lashes and said to the King, “I had to change my gown, Sire, the one I wore in the garden was covered with grass stains.”
It was a blatant lie, for her gown had been the color of grass to begin with, but it had the desired effect on Helford. His eyes narrowed dangerously and she looked down at her plate quickly. Her eyes strayed to his powerful hands, and when she saw them clench in anger, she shuddered.
The King decided to rub salt in his wounds as any good friend should. “I told you, sweetheart, you should have let me spread my cloak for you.”
At this moment Barbara had had enough of Summer Helford’s monopolizing and she put her hand upon the inside of Charles’s thigh beneath the table.
With the King’s attention diverted from them for a few moments, Ruark took Summer’s hand and squeezed it painfully. “I swear you must be the worst wife a man was ever cursed with,” he said between clenched teeth.
“Oh no,” she said with exquisite sarcasm, “that would be too great a coincidence!”
The kitchen staff of Helford Hall had outdone itself for this royal visit and the pièce de résistance to end the sumptuous meal was petits fours iced with the Christian names of every guest, a half-dozen of each, making a total of over five hundred cakes. It seemed everyone at table wanted to taste a Barbara, a Summer, or a Bess while the ladies fought over Charles and Ruark and the losers settled for a George or a Bunny. Some of the men who thought they were witty offered the ladies a Dick or a Roger and the meal ended in high good humor as everyone repaired to the gaming tables.
Ruark singled out Mr. Burke to compliment him on the successful menu and was annoyed when that worthy gentleman said, “All the credit must go to Lady Helford, sir.” The real reason it annoyed him so much—if he were to be truthful—was that he wondered how on earth she managed so superbly. Until that fateful trip to London she hadn’t known which fork to use or which form of address was correct. She’d run about in rags, yet here she was with better dress sense than any female he’d ever known. She plied her fan and fended off a king’s compliments with the finesse of an experienced courtesan. She had such allure every man present was aware of it.
She had this exciting hidden quality about her which wasn’t altogether explained by her deception, for even though he now knew the ugly truth about her, her hidden pagan qualities almost magnetized him. He might no longer feel love for her, but he still felt an overwhelming desire for her. He looked over at his wayward bride.
Summer’s gown was ivory lace. She wore her mass of dark, silken curls swept up high off her neck to show off her rubies. As she moved from table to table, making sure her guests’ glasses were refilled or making polite conversation, she was utterly dismayed at the amount of money she saw sitting so casually on the card tables. She was certain there would be enough money lost and won this night to pay off the dreaded mortgage which hung over her head so disastrously, threatening to steal her very sanity. Her quicksilver mind darted about every which way to devise a scheme whereby she could acquire some of the gold in that room. Damn, she thought, I should have auctioned that bloody ambergris off to the highest bidder and found a way of pocketing the receipts, she scolded herself. None of the schemes she dreamed up were practical and with a little sigh she sat down to try to win some money, but her attention was not wholly on her cards and she lost more than she won. There was no alternative but to cheat, she told herself righteously, but at the end of the evening all she had to show for her deceit was a miserable hundred pounds. At this rate she’d have a long white beard before she accumulated the thousands she needed. The festivities broke up at eleven because the guests had to travel by carriage to Pendennis Castle about four miles away.
Summer walked with the King and Buckingham to the royal coach, while Ruark attended the ladies. Charles said, “I’m looking forward to seeing Pendennis again. Zounds, I remember the last time I was there fifteen years past, I wouldn’t leave, I wanted to stand my ground even when General Fairfax besieged the castle. I had more courage than common sense I’m afraid and had left it too long to escape. Your husband is the only reason I’m standing here today. Since we are the same height and coloring, he donned my clothes and made himself a visible target up on the walls of Pendennis for three days while I was taken by ship to the Scillies. The ship tried to return for him but had to stand three or four miles out to sea. It signaled the castle that I was safe, but the ship couldn’t come in closer, and do you know what the damned fellow did? You guessed aright! He swam out to sea.” Charles shook his head at the selflessness of such an act, but Summer knew it was recklessness that was in Helford’s blood. She knew the demons which craved adventure, for she herself was cursed with them.
