Page 69 of The Pirate and the Pagan
Wild Harry winked, tipped his hat, and climbed back inside. The coachman, angry but impotent, had no choice but to climb back up on the box and drive off.
Summer’s knees were butter and her hands shook visibly as she tucked the pistol into her doublet. When she’d heard the pistol discharge and the ball go whizzing past her ear, she had almost fallen from Ebony. How she had ever kept her seat and carried on with the business, she’d never know. Did other highwaymen encounter a fiasco with every coach they stopped or was it just her? She dismounted on weak legs and discovered the strongbox too heavy to lift. She found the lid was securely locked and thought she would have to shoot it open. She was too close to the house to risk a shot, however, and first tried to break the lock with a jagged rock. The lock held firmly, but the hinges on the back of the lid caved in with her efforts and she transferred the money to her saddlebags. As well as the money, there appeared to be a small jewel case. She took that as well and when the strongbox was empty she found she could lift it.
She remounted Ebony and rode inland to the banks of the River Helford. There she hurled the strongbox far out into the raging water and made her way slowly back to Helford Hall. She tethered Ebony in the yew walk again, since it was fairly close to the south wing and her saddlebags were heavy. Wearily she glanced up at her balcony, thinking that after one last great effort of climbing the vine it would be all over and she would be home safe, when all at once she felt something like a sixth sense tell her that all was not right. She didn’t know if she first noticed the fragrance of tobacco or the faint glow from her bedroom window, but she was alerted that Ruark was waiting for her. The first thing she did was put her pistol in her saddlebags and hide the bags behind the shrubbery. After a few minutes’ deliberation she realized she had no option but to go up and face him. How she gained entry to her chamber mattered little at this stage of the game, so she hoisted herself up the thick ivy and swung her legs over the balcony. She removed her wide-brimmed hat and sailed it across her bedchamber into the darkness, thereby defiantly announcing her arrival.
She saw his dark shape stretched out full length upon their bed; the glow from his cheroot was bright red like a warning signal. “Good evening.” His voice was filled with such quiet menace, she licked lips gone suddenly dry. My God, she was still wearing the mustache! Quickly she peeled it from her top lip and thrust it into a pocket. “It was,” she said coldly, showing no surprise at his presence.
“Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
“I’ve been out minding my own business,” she said with great impudence.
He was off the bed in a flash, gripping her shoulders in harsh hands. “Never use that tone of voice to me again, madame.” His voice was like a whiplash and a wisp of fear curled in her belly.
She put out her hands to ward him off and encountered his hard, naked chest. She drew in her breath sharply as if she had been burned. His hands left her shoulders and he lit the candles on the bedside table. His eyes swept down her body, taking note of the male attire. “Who were you with that you needed a disguise? It could only have been the King,” he answered his own question.
His eyes burned into her like green flames in a mixture of hatred, anger, and jealousy. Oh, God, and lust, she realized suddenly. He had the black doublet off her before she realized his intent. She fled across the room in her tight little busk and the slim black breeches and boots. She glanced at the bedchamber door and saw that the key was missing. He grinned wickedly as she realized she was trapped in with him. Almost leisurely he lit another dozen candles in a wall sconce so that he could enjoy the scene to the full.
“Ruark, I’ve not been with the King or any man. I was out riding. I went home to Roseland … I thought it best to go dressed as a boy,” she finished lamely.
“How odd that you should bother to protect my good name of Helford after your shameless behavior with the King these past two days.”
“I have done nothing to deserve your jealousy,” she swore. She prayed that it would not be a repeat performance of last night, that would be too cruel. “Why are you here?” she asked, stalling for time.
“I felt like a piece,” he said crudely. “You’ve kept me waiting over two hours, it had better be worth the wait,” he said, his eyes never leaving the swell of her breasts in the tight black busk.
“No,” she said firmly, making it clear she wanted no part of this behavior.
“I’m simply claiming my winnings from our wager.” His mouth looked particularly cruel.
“You bastard. How could you even insinuate that I’d wager my body!” she cried.
“Ah, I forgot how important money is to you. Your tail’s only for sale, I bet.” He fished in his breeches pocket and pulled out a crown. The insult was so blatant she reacted instantly, furiously. With all her might she brought up her hand and slapped him full across the face. He grabbed her instantly, threw her to the bed, and pulled off her boots and breeches. Then he turned her over his knee and gave her bare bottom a tanning.
As his hand first made stinging contact with her soft flesh she cried out in pain. She realized instantly that he would turn a deaf ear to her cries and that she must do something more overt to protect herself. She bit his thigh, then she tried to move her mouth between his legs. “By God, you are outrageous enough to do anything!” He pushed her away from his vulnerable manhood. The second his hands let go of her she rolled off the bed clad only in the tiny corset. With the bed between them he gazed at her splendidly naked limbs as if mesmerized. He saw her through a bloodred haze of lust. My God, she was more sensual than any dream. Her breasts heaved, rising and falling back into the cupped busk until he thought he would go mad from the need to be deep inside her.
Very deliberately he stripped off the remainder of his clothes until he was completely nude. Then he simply lunged across the bed and grabbed her. She fought like a wild animal, with fists and teeth, grabbing handfuls of his hair, bringing her knee up between his legs. To his great credit, he never actually hit her, but by sheer force of strength he protected himself from her onslaught and at the same time allowed her to exhaust all her strength and energy. She was panting with exhaustion and realized her sharp tongue was the only weapon he’d left her.
“Your lust is disgusting,” she cried.
“My lust? What about yours?” he demanded, then covered her mouth with his to stop her cruel retort. “I know only one way to stop you craving the King,” he ground out. Suddenly she realized with clarity that he was about to reclaim his property and brand her as his woman. He towered above her, paused, ready to impale himself inside her in a brutal downward plunge.
“Ruark, don’t ravish me!” she begged.
Her words arrested his descent as he hung above her. “Me? My God, you are the ravisher. Only a moment ago you had your mouth upon me, biting me,” he groaned hoarsely. “Admit it, we both have needs only the other can satisfy.”
She knew that he spoke the truth, but she was outraged that he thought it was all right to use each other without making up their quarrel and declaring their love. Perhaps beneath the surface man and woman would always be deadly enemies, she thought wearily, and closed her eyes. She bit her lips to prevent a cry from escaping as the weapon of her enemy-lover thrust deep enough to touch and break her heart.
Ruark’s jealousy had eaten at him too much for him to enjoy her. Dear God, why couldn’t they have gone on loving each other? Why had she deceived him? He had just taken her without love and knew he never wanted to do that again. He realized miserably that it was really all over between them.
She felt degraded … empty. It was the last time he would ever touch her, she vowed as she watched him leave in silence.
The next morning she awoke with chills and fever and a nasty sore throat, and though in the heat of her anger in the middle of the night she had vowed to leave this house forever at dawn, all she did was groan and turn over in the great empty bed.
A maid brought her breakfast early but she sent her away, and when she hadn’t shown her face downstairs by ten o’clock, Mr. Burke came himself to investigate. He noted the broken lock, the odorous remains of the cheroot, and Ruark’s breeches strewn on the floor. He removed all unobtrusively, and when he saw that Summer was unwell, he ordered her to remain in bed. “You have managed to exhaust yourself and now you are ill, all over that London rabble. With the exception of His Majesty, there isn’t one of them worth a pinch of bat shit, begging your pardon, my lady.”
“Oh, Mr. Burke, you make me laugh even when I’m feeling so wretched. I intended leaving Helford Hall forever this morning.”
Mr. Burke pressed his lips together as if to prevent himself from saying something indiscreet. Instead he said, “This is your home, Lady Helford. You’ve seen the back of his lordship for a while. He’s gone. God only knows where.”
