The Pirate and the Pagan (31 page)

When her guests arrived, Summer explained to the ladies the theme of their afternoon and asked them to improvise a costume and veil their faces. It turned into a contest with each trying to outdo the others, as women in a large gathering always will. Their ingenuity was astounding, with some wearing thin petticoats, some in tiny busks, and some even came down in diaphanous night rails. There was an abundance of bangles, beads, dangling ear bobs, and bracelets upon ankles.

When they went out upon the transformed terrace, most of the ladies couldn’t resist picking exotic blooms to decorate their hair or wrists. The hit of the afternoon, however, were the male Helford servants in their gold loincloths. They stood immobile with arms crossed over their bared chests and Summer explained to the ladies with a twinkle in her eye that they could not speak because they had had their tongues cut out, but that in no way diminished their ability to perform any task the ladies might require of them.

The air was scented by the thousands of blooms in the tropical garden and as well, Summer had incense burning at intervals along the terrace. Rattan couches stood upon silken Persian and Indian carpets and the multihued cushions were strewn all the way from the French doors to the jade fountain. Red lacquered cabinets, like no other red in the world for they were colored with cinnabar, stood among the cushions holding trays of fruits and sweetmeats. All the foreign treats had easily been bought in the port of Falmouth from the trading ships. There were oranges from Portugal, grapes from France, olives from Spain, dates and figs from Morocco, and coconuts from heaven only knew where.

The ladies of Cornwall seemed just as delighted as the ladies from London. They spent the afternoon alternating between warm sunshine and shady flowering trees. They lounged upon the cushions, nibbling sweetmeats and exchanging delicious tidbits of gossip. A few of the energetic ladies played chess with the uniquely carved, life-size chessmen and the rest contented themselves to dabble their bare feet in the jade fountain and run a surreptitious hand over the muscles displayed by the Helford palace guards.

Summer was delighted with the way the servants played their
roles, most discreet and aloof, yet she knew that one or two of the more sophisticated voluptuaries of the court made whispered assignations for after-dark frolics. She hid a smile as she watched Bess Maitland’s fingers play about one man’s loincloth and wondered what the countess would do if she realized the brawny fellow she itched after was the Helford pig herder.

A
s the afternoon hour grew late Summer urged the
ladies
to leave the terrace and dress for dinner before the gentlemen returned and caught them playing harem, but she noticed with a secret smile of satisfaction that they dawdled and lingered purposely, wanting the gentlemen to join them in this provocative setting.

When the men returned, they were both fascinated and delighted by what they found and insisted upon joining the females at their leisure. The setting lured them, the costumes fired their blood, and an impromptu game of forfeits began. The ladies had very little to forfeit besides their jewels and fans, and soon off came veils and the forfeits turned into kisses and other liberties.

The guests were most loath to give up this pleasure and Charles approached Ruark and asked him if they could dine in the sultan’s garden rather than have a formal dinner in the dining room. Reluctantly, Ruark was forced to approach Summer to ask if it could be arranged. She couldn’t tell if he was angry and disapproving or feeling tolerant of her arrangements. Of one thing she was certain —she saw no thanks or admiration for how delightfully she had managed to entertain his guests. To hell with him, she thought angrily as she appealed to Mr. Burke to serve a buffet supper al fresco on the terrace.

She decided to wipe the faintly condescending smile from Helford’s mouth. She held up her hands for quiet so she could make a little announcement. “If you will all be patient, the servants will set up a buffet dinner out here. For the more daring gentlemen who have athletic physiques, I would offer fantastic gold turbans and loincloths. Who knows, perhaps we could hold a slave auction later if enough wine is imbibed to give us the courage!”

Ruark caught hold of her wrist as she was about to sweep past him. In a low, angry voice he demanded, “What the hell are you trying to do, turn Helford Hall into a brothel?”

“The Court of St. James is already a brothel, without any assistance from me, Lord Helford.”

“In that case, madame, would you take a hundred pounds to lie with me tonight?”

Slimmer gave a short unpleasant laugh. “You dream, Helford! There isn’t enough money in Cornwall to induce me to lie with you tonight, or any night for that matter. Pray address yourself to some other who is not quite so particular as I, sir.”

He let go of her wrist and gripped her shoulders in his powerful hands. He deliberately squeezed hard until he knew he was hurting her. “Are you challenging me to take you by force?” he demanded, eyes blazing. “By God, I’d advise you to fear the consequences of playing with fire, madame!” He gave her another brutal squeeze before he let go of her and she swallowed her fear and laughed in his face, knowing she had wounded him. She made her way directly over to the King who hugged her and good-naturedly wrapped the turban around his head. He whispered, “I’d gladly put on the loincloth if you’d agree to a private showing.”

“I’ll have your tongue cut out for such wicked talk, Sire,” she teased.

The entire company let their hair down, so to speak, and many of the guests declared it was the best time they’d had in memory. Unfortunately the one they declared it to was having a singularly miserable time of it, though not by word or deed did Ruark Helford let on.

By the time the ladies retired to the guest chambers to don the gowns in which they had originally arrived, most of them were slightly intoxicated. Summer couldn’t have been happier, for she was ready to try gambling for jewels, since the coins from the previous evening had been so paltry.

Barbara Castlemaine was resplendent in black silk embroidered
with diamonds. She was wearing a diamond necklace to set off her magnificent breasts and indeed they drew every eye. Summer wore the tulip-shaped bloodred satin and her rubies, while Anna Maria, Countess of Shrewsbury, had outdone them all. To attract Buckingham she wore a pale green gown embroidered with silvery thread, and the necklace she had chosen to complement the dress was an intricately designed dog collar of emeralds and jade.

Tonight the men seemed to prefer dice and most of them sprawled on the floor on the cushions brought from the terrace. Summer circulated politely among her guests, but she had her eye on Castlemaine’s diamonds and she realized she would not know a moment’s content until she had them in her possession. She spoke a sweet greeting to the Earl of Shrewsbury but he was decidedly surly to her. She thought he looked a bit green about the gills and decided he’d had too much sack.

Barbara hailed her and asked her to join their table in a game of pontoon. The object of pontoon was to score twenty-one or as close to it as possible. If you went over, however, you went bust. She played carelessly while the stakes were a few crowns, yawning a few times to show her boredom.

“Am I keeping you awake, Lady Helford?” drawled Barbara in her sultry voice. “Perhaps we could liven the evening with higher stakes?”

Summer fingered her necklace. “Still have your eye on my rubies, do you, my lady Castlemaine?”

“Well, what do you say?” she urged.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” protested Summer.

“Come on; are you in, Anna Maria?”

“This is my lucky day, how can I lose?” asked Anna Maria enigmatically.

“From what you told me, that was yesterday,” quipped Barbara with a leer, so Summer knew they referred to some liaison.

At last Summer permitted herself to be persuaded, but only for the bracelets. She knew it was her only chance to acquire Barbara’s diamonds. She felt very confident as she sat with two kings in her hand. She watched with delight as Anna Maria drew a card and busted with twenty-two. Now it was all up to my lady Castlemaine, who looked decidedly worried. Barbara’s face clouded for a moment, then lightened again. With a swift exultant glance she slapped down an ace and a queen and cried, “Pontoon!” Summer went cold. She couldn’t believe what had just happened to her. It
wasn’t possible! It was absolutely inconceivable to her that the detested Castlemaine was the owner of
her
ruby bracelets. With stiff fingers she removed them from her arms and shoved them across the green baize toward Barbara. The blood pounded in her ears until she thought she was going to faint.

Anna Maria handed over her emeralds and immediately reached for her earrings with little concern for their value. “You’ll have me naked before the night’s over,” remarked Anna Maria.

“Just trying to aid my dearest cousin,” Barbara quipped.

Summer wagered her ruby necklace in a desperate attempt to win back her bracelets.

She bit her lip as she was dealt an ace and a nine, giving her a total of twenty again, which was difficult to beat, especially since she was in possession of one of the aces. Barbara Castlemaine wore exactly the same cloudy face as she had after the last hand and Summer’s heart plunged to her slippers. However, this time Barbara’s expression did not clear and Summer extended her hand triumphantly for her ruby bracelets.

“Just a moment, darling,” cut in Anna Maria. “I told you this was my lucky day…. Pontoon!” She scooped up the bracelets but they were too tiny to fit over her fat arms, so she held out a pudgy hand for the necklace.

Summer was devastated. She actually felt the blood drain from her face at the unexpected turn of events. A feeling of unreality assailed her and she became disoriented. This must be a dream, she told herself, but gradually it came to her that the nightmare was very real indeed. With a fixed little smile on her face she excused herself from the gaming table. She knew she was going to be sick and slipped into the entrance hall and thus out the front door. Her stomach heaved and knotted, but she did not vomit much because her appetite had been almost nonexistent since the terrible fight with her husband. Nothing bad gone right since that moment. As she knelt upon the grass, retching, she realized how low she had been brought.

She went very cold inside as if her heart turned to stone in her breast. She clenched her fists and stood up quickly. Never would she fall to her knees again … never! She walked briskly along the driveway until she came to the stables. Most of the grooms and stablemen were at supper, for they would be working late again tonight, harnessing the dozens of coach horses to the carriages for their short journey to Pendennis Castle.

She slipped a saddle onto Ebony and led him from the stable. A stableboy gave her a sidewise glance and she explained quickly, “I’ve had no time for poor Ebony today, and I’m sure all these strange horses bother him.” The boy shrugged; there was no accounting for the odd ways of the gentry. She led the black horse deep through the garden and into one of the dark and deserted yew walks. There, very deliberately, she tethered him to a very strong yew branch.

When she returned to the house, she instructed a servant to take a couple of hogsheads of ale out to the coachmen waiting in the coach house, then she rejoined the guests, who were well into their cups and gambling heavily.

She made her way over to the King, sketched him a slight curtsy, and murmured, “Your Majesty, I am afraid I must beg your leave to retire. I am unwell. I’m afraid I indulged in too many spicy dishes this afternoon.”

“Let me get Helford,” he offered with concern.

“Ah please, Sire, the host cannot leave as well as the hostess. I beg your indulgence, Sire. I promise you I will be well if I can lie down for a while.”

He kissed her hand, and as she withdrew the rumors began to circulate that perhaps the lady was already enceinte. On wooden legs she climbed the stairs to her chamber and, once there, threw home the bolt. There was something about the events of the evening which seemed predestined.

She washed her face and tried to stop her mind from remembering her dream from the previous night. However, as she mentally rejected the memory, she walked over to her wardrobe and opened the trunk she’d brought back from London. One by one she lifted out the articles of clothing she’d bought for Spencer. Her fingers ran along the plume of the wide-brimmed, black hat, then caressed the black velvet of the doublet and breeches. Finally she lifted out the high black calf-skin boots and closed the trunk.

She undressed slowly and with remarkably steady hands donned the black attire. Finally she admitted to herself that she was going to go through with it. She wasn’t simply playing a game of dress-up to see what she would look like. There was absolutely no other way to get the mortgage money and recover her rubies; she’d been over every possibility until every other plan had been exhausted. According to gossip, highwaymen were thick as flies on a dog turd
and the nobility actually bragged about their coaches being held up.