Page 67 of The Pirate and the Pagan
They knew her horse had been defeated fairly, but there wasn’t a man there who wouldn’t have thrown the race to win her favor. She gave a rueful little shrug to Buckingham. “Since I called the tune, I’ll have to pay the piper. See that Lord Helford gets whatever I owe him.”
As he watched her walk away Buckingham thought she would most likely give Helford one hell of a lot more than she owed him before she was finished.
Barbara Castlemaine lounged in the tent pavilion, sipping champagne and eating oysters with Bess Maitland. As Summer came to get a drink Barbara called, “I’m surprised a rustic farm girl like you came such a cropper. Perhaps you bit off more than you could chew when you took on Helford for husband.” She whispered something amusing to her coarse companion and they went off in peals of laughter.
“Unlike yours, my husband is somewhat old-fashioned. My husband would kill me if I cuckolded him. I hear your friend Anna Maria was dragged home in disgrace; her husband must be old-fashioned, too.”
Barbara’s eyes narrowed and Bess Maitland was all agog to find out the gossip on the Countess of Shrewsbury.
* * *
The King was a very strong swimmer who had to content himself with a dip in the Thames when he was in London, but today he took advantage of a calm ocean where the water was warmed by the gulf stream. Charles, Ruark, and a half-dozen of their friends swam out quite a distance and some of the more daring and adventurous ladies removed their shoes and stockings so they could wade.
Seabirds and kittywakes joined the party hoping for handouts, and daring seals and otters swam in close out of curiosity. Summer’s heart ached. She wanted to swim out to sea and never return. She was a good swimmer but she’d raised enough eyebrows for one afternoon without disrobing and plunging into the briny.
The King came out of the sea and toweled himself vigorously. All the men except Ruark were coming out now and she shaded her eyes against the late-afternoon sun as she watched his head bob up and down behind the waves. Charles saw her pensive look and joined her. “He’s very like you, you know; reckless to a fault.” She smiled at the King, but it was a decidedly sad smile. “I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a few days away from my responsibilities so much. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, Summer, please come to me. Oh, I know you don’t need me when you have Helford. He’ll guard you with his life and you’ll never want for anything, of course. Still, life sometimes has unexpected twists. Some of the missions I send him on are fraught with danger….” The King’s voice trailed off as if he had said too much. She looked up at the swarthy face with its black eyes and narrow mustache. He had a glowing charm which warmed her heart. Was he just reminding her that dealing with smugglers was hazardous for a magistrate or had he been trying to warn her that Helford was involved in a more dangerous game, like spying perhaps? Where had he been last week? she wondered. Where would he go next week? Before the trouble between them, he had hinted he would have to spend a great deal of time away from her. He hadn’t confided in her, even when they had been so close and lovingly intimate. Why should she care? She had enough things to worry about, thanks to his high-and-mightiness. He could go to hell for all she cared!
She saw that the grooms had finished feeding the horses and were taking them back up to Helford Hall, so she took Ebony from the groom leading him and once again tethered him in one of the isolated yew walks. Her conscience told her that she should not play the role of the Black Cat again tonight, but she told herself fiercely that Helford had made it her only way out. Not a copper penny of his money would she ever have again, he’d told her, and this afternoon he’d proven his words. God rot his eyes!
The beach picnic was a huge success. They dined on lobster dipped in drawn butter, baked clams, and the salmon the men had caught yesterday, wrapped in herbs and leaves and baked on great stones in the bonfires. For those who did not care for fish, whole young boars were roasted in pits dug out of the sand.
As darkness descended they gathered round the fires and sang sea chanties, bawdy drinking songs, and the latest songs from the London theaters.
Only about half of the guests found a need for cards this evening. Gambling was a compulsion with them and of course the card tables were set up for their pleasure. But most of the company stayed late upon the beach, hating to leave the idyll and the informality of dining and singing out in the open.
Summer was very restless. Now that she had decided to play highwayman again she wished they would all start to say their goodbyes. There were a couple of things she could do, however, to make use of her time. She bade a footman take a hogshead of ale to the waiting coachmen and she looked about her to decide who her victims would be.
She decided she could stop only two coaches, more would be hazardous. Lauderdale and Buckingham were the King’s traveling companions and stopping His Majesty’s coach was naturally out of the question. She didn’t want to stop a coach that had too many passengers; she couldn’t watch them and control them all at once. Jack and Bunny Grenvile and their wives were traveling together and the ladies had brought their maids, so their coach was eliminated. What she needed was a woman traveling alone and preferably not Barbara Castlemaine.
She stepped into the salon to watch the gambling and her eyes immediately fell on the Duchess of Buckingham with her pudgy turned-up nose. What a damned hypocrite the woman is, thought Summer. She must have been brought up to be a pious Parliamentarian if her father was one of Cromwell’s generals, and yet there she sat, addicted to cards and married to one of the most profligate men at Court. Summer watched her rake in about five hundred crowns with her greedy hands and marked her down for a rendezvous with the Black Cat. Of course with Buckingham and Lauderdale escorting the King, the duchess and countess would again be sharing a carriage.
“Sweetheart, come an’ bring me luck.” Harry Killigrew beckoned to Summer.
She strolled over to the table of men and gave him one of her prettiest smiles. Gad, how could he win so consistently when he was rolling drunk? No wonder they called him Wild Harry! She picked up a decanter of port from the wine table and refilled his glass. Suddenly she felt a hand caress her bottom. For a moment she couldn’t credit it. While Harry was feeling her bottom with one hand, he was laying out a winning hand of cards with the other, and all the while so disguised, he sat at a forty-five-degree tilt.
Summer spoke to a friend of his, Henry Jermyn, who was a particular friend of the royal family and was rumored to have been on the point of marrying the King’s sister Mary. “Will he be all right?” she murmured.
“Perfectly, Lady Helford. His back teeth are awash every night of his life. His man is used to pouring him into bed. Can’t play cards worth a damn unless he’s three sheets to the wind.”
“His man?” echoed Summer.
“Little chap, valet, driver … mothers him completely.”
“He needs smothering not mothering.” Summer laughed. She could afford to laugh; she’d just found her other mark!
Suddenly an authoritative voice behind her said, “I think you are flown with wine, madame. Perhaps you should seek your room, Lady Helford.” She turned, a sharp rejoinder on her lips, as she saw Charles and Ruark had come in together. She realized what she must look like standing laughing with the men, a wine decanter in her hand and Wild Harry’s hand hovering about her bottom. Being sent to her room suited her plan so well that instead of indignation, she put her hand to her head and said, “I am only a little dizzy.” She bowed with exaggerated dignity to the King and said owlishly, “With your permission, Sire.”
He smiled down at her, thanked her for her wondrous hospitality, and bade her goodbye.
She carefully locked her chamber door, stripped off her female garments, and replaced them with her male attire. She made sure her pistol was charged and that she had extra balls and powder, then she glanced in the mirror. Good heavens, she’d forgotten to take off her makeup! She carefully washed her face, affixed the black mustache, then took her saddlebags out on the balcony and dropped them into the garden below. She went back into the room, pulled on her gloves and wide-brimmed hat, blew out all the candles, and prepared to follow her saddlebags.
Halfway down the ivy, she froze against the wall as she heard laughter and male voices. She was weak with relief when she realized some of the men had come into the garden to relieve themselves. Coarseness comes naturally to men, she told herself, they’ll piss anywhere!
Deep in the secluded yew walk, she untethered Ebony and spoke to him softly as she strapped the bags on either side of her saddle. Each step was familiar tonight and she found that she was not trembling, nor were the palms of her hands wet. Her heartbeat was slightly accelerated, however, and she could hear it drumming in her ears. She decided to ride down the road toward Falmouth a couple of miles. If she stayed on Helford property, the carriages might come too close together for comfort.
She went slowly, quietly, and all the while her eyes were adjusting to the light. In the yew walks it had seemed pitch black, but now that she was becoming accustomed, she was amazed at how well she could see everything. She heard a coach approaching and walked Ebony into a stand of trees until she identified it. As she had assumed, the first coach held the King and his escorts. Four servants rode outside the coach with the driver and by their loud gibes at each other she could tell they were well oiled. She should not have too long to wait for the Duchess of Buckingham and the Countess of Lauderdale. In about ten minutes she saw a black coach approaching at a fast clip.
Summer rode out from the trees onto the road and then she realized with horror it was Castlemaine’s carriage. Swiftly she galloped back into the trees, but not without startling the coachman so much he swerved the coach and pulled back on the reins. An angry tirade came from inside the carriage. “You stupid pricklouse, you almost tipped us over! What the hell is the matter with you, man?”
