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Authors: Virginia Henley

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BOOK: The Hawk and the Dove
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“Innocence?” He laughed. “Any woman who has been at this court longer than twenty-four hours has lost her innocence.”

Her eyes blazed their outrage. “I have been here exactly twenty-three hours—you have one hour left in which to debauch me!” she challenged, and suddenly he felt he was in the wrong. Her nearness had had the same throbbing physical effect upon him as the previous night. Usually he had an iron control over his body, and it irritated him that this little wench, with her flaming hair,
could so easily make him lose that control. He bowed formally. “May I escort you, mistress?”

“Go to hell!” she snapped, and turning upon her heel, she marched off as if she knew exactly where she was going.

“Little bitch!” He swore under his breath. “Rebuffs me when I play the man, rebuffs me when I play the gentleman.” He stood staring after her. Was she an innocent or a practiced courtesan? Either way she needed a good bedding!

Kate found Sabre lost in a trance, staring from the window of her chamber. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. I thought you’d been kidnapped.”

“Aunt Kate, quickly, who is that man riding off on that black stallion?” She pointed her finger through the glass.

“Ah, no wonder your senses have been addled. That’s the Sea God! All the women are hot as bitches in heat for him.”

I wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire,
thought Sabre vulgarly, but she knew she was lying through her teeth.

“Come, dear, if we can get a few dozen gowns finished this afternoon, we can start cleaning her jewelry tomorrow. You’ll take such delight in the jewels, Sabre. Any woman would sell her soul for them. Wait until I unlock some of her coffers. You did very well to get an invitation from Anne Leighton for tomorrow night. I hope you know how to play cards. She’ll have gambling to lure the men, don’t you see?”

Sabre didn’t know how to play cards very well and thought about consulting Matthew. “Isn’t Lady Leighton married?”

“Of course, both she and Mary Barow. Their husbands are off fighting in Holland with Leicester. But of course it wouldn’t make a scrap of difference if they were present tomorrow night. All husbands and wives at court learn to turn a blind eye where advantageous liaisons are concerned.” Kate gave her a sharp look. “You must keep a shrewd head on your shoulders and quickly sort out the strong protectors from the weak, else you’ll be like a lamb to slaughter. Keep your legs crossed until you settle on a victim, and for God’s sake have the wit not to be undone by a handsome face.”

Before she retired for the night, Sabre made her way by stealth to Matthew’s chamber. A low knock brought his dear familiar voice to her before he even opened the door. “Come in, sweetheart, you’re early … oh, Sabre, it’s you.”

“I’m in trouble!” she said urgently.

He drawled, “That’s what all the ladies tell me.”

“Oh, Matt!” She laughed. “You shouldn’t say such things to me … ’tis indecent.”

He winked at her. “You shouldn’t understand the innuendo. Come in before anyone sees you.” He had just finished shaving. He rinsed his ivory-handled razor, then poured them each a glass of wine. She sat beside a small table and took a sip of the blood-red wine. “Not so powerful as brandy,” she commented.

“Ah, but perhaps more subtle. You expect brandy to pack a punch, but often by the time you realize you have imbibed too much wine, your inhibitions have fled and it is too late.”

“Thank you for the warning. I’ve been invited by Lady Anne Leighton to a party she is giving tomorrow night, and I must learn all about playing cards.”

“Sabre, I’ve been gambling a lifetime and Hawk can beat me nine hands out of ten. You can’t learn to play cards in one lesson.”

“Well, teach me something … how to fake … or how to cheat!”

He looked at her with raised brows. “Are you serious? Would you really cheat?”

“My own grandmother,” she said, wrinkling her nose at him.

“Let’s see. I could teach you how to play sant, perhaps.” He handed her a deck of playing cards. “Take out all the cards lower than seven. We play with only thirty-two.” He laughed as she dropped more than she held, but soon she was handling them with dexterity and began to shuffle and riffle them as she had seen others do. “There are four suits and the ace is high,” he explained patiently. “Now deal each of us twelve cards.”

She listened carefully, intent upon learning the game.

“They’ll play for stakes; money usually,” he warned her.

She lost badly and he said, “You now owe me one gold piece.”

“Oh, Matt, it’s too hard!” she wailed.

He leered. “That’s what all the—”

“—ladies tell you,” she finished for him, and slapped him for his naughtiness. It took her over an hour, but she managed to start winning.

“You play very well,” he complimented.

She flashed her green eyes at him and teased, “That’s what all the gentlemen tell me.”

He found her delicious company and regretted that he had invited another female to spend the evening with him.

“Well, I’d better leave before your guest arrives.” She sighed and stood up.

“Sabre, if you’ll stay, I could get rid of her,” he offered.

“Matt, please don’t spoil our lovely friendship with all that other rubbish.” She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and was gone.

Damn,
thought Matt, I
didn’t even warn her that Hawk is still in the palace.
After giving it some thought he scribbled a note, found her room, and pushed it beneath her door.

She didn’t see it until she was about to blow out her candles. It read,
Sabre: I must warn you that Hawk is still in residence. I will try to learn when he leaves on progress. Matt.

She caught her breath as she read the words. Hatred for the man rose up in her like a fever. Her Irish blood targeted him as the enemy. She would learn every intimate thing about him there was to know. She would discover his likes and dislikes, his haunts, his habits, his strengths and his weaknesses. She clenched her fists as she lay in her bed. Silently she vowed that when she had discovered his weaknesses, she would destroy him.

Chapter 7

Sabre awoke early with heightened anticipation that today might be the day she would meet
him.
She only knew that they were both here at Greenwich, that she could see him, and that when she did she must look beautiful. She took her cream gown from the cupboard and cut a heart-shaped neckline into the bodice. The knowledge that it had been intended for her wedding gown fanned the flames of her anger toward the man who had made a mockery of that occasion.

She missed breakfast so that she could finish altering the gown, then she went off to find Kate without taking time to try it on. Today Kate took Sabre into the queen’s privy chamber and on through to her bedchamber.

“Her Majesty took a great deal of jewelry with her, and of course the lord chancellor has the keys to her jewels for state occasions, but that still leaves me with a heavy burden of responsibility for the rest of her jewels.” She unlocked a large cabinet that contained dozens of drawers. Each one held a jeweled caul or neck whisk sewn all over with every gem under the sun. As well as diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and pearls, there were milky opals, purple garnets, green peridots, and incredible blue-green Ceylon sapphires.

The top drawer held a tray of loose jewels that had fallen from the queen’s priceless gowns and cauls, and Kate set about affixing the missing gems into the intricate patterns on the stiffened cloth.

Sabre, using vinegar, a tiny brush, and a chamois cloth, cleaned the cauls and neck whisks and bejeweled ruffs and laid them out to dry. In the late afternoon Kate
unlocked a large casket containing necklaces and brooches of semiprecious jewels. Their variety and color took Sabre’s breath away. She ran her finger over coral, jade, topaz, jet, and crystal, and coveted every one of them.

“Give them all a quick once-over,” her aunt instructed. “She seldom wears them anyway, and I’ll be back to lock the casket when you’re done. After that I think you deserve a little rest before tonight’s festivities. My feet feel like two plates of meat the dogs have been gnawing. I’ll have trays sent up to us instead of going to the dining hall.”

As soon as Kate turned her back, Sabre lifted the necklaces from the casket and held them to her own neck in front of the mirror. Her eyes were as iridescent as the jewels she admired. How could one woman own so much? It wasn’t fair!

She lifted a jade necklace studded with turquoise. One great pear-shaped turquoise as big as a pigeon’s egg dangled from its center. She held it to her neck with reverence, her fingers caressing the large turquoise drop possessively. Why not? she asked herself as her pulses quickened with the danger. The colors looked so right on her, as if they had been especially designed to contrast with her flaming tresses and deepen the shade of her eyes. She’d return it tomorrow before anyone noticed it was gone.

Quickly, before her courage deserted her, she stuffed the necklace far down into her busk, wriggled about until it seated itself there with a minimum of discomfort, and set about cleaning the contents of the jewel casket with a vengeance.

Kate did a cursory inspection and nodded with satisfaction
at the sparkling richness her niece’s efforts had uncovered. Sabre refused to think about the specifics of how she would return the necklace on the morrow, for she felt confident that a way would be found.

Tonight she drew her drapes before she bathed. She shivered with excitement as she took the lovely cream gown from her cupboard. Her blood sang with the delicious anticipation of her first party at the palace. Kate had warned her about the men’s advances and she had tasted a sample of such behavior firsthand. Tasted … the word brought a blush to her cheeks. The blush deepened as she saw how the rounded globes of her breasts thrust from the much-lowered neckline. The heart shape seemed to cup and push her breasts forward in a positively wanton show.

Her heartbeat quickened as her fingers fastened the jade necklace, and she gasped as the heavy turquoise dropped into the valley between the swells of her breasts. It was designed to draw every male eye. She took her brush and swept up her hair in the very latest fashion. It exposed her neck at the sides and back to show off the necklace to its full advantage.

She carefully counted out ten gold pieces to wager on cards and slipped them into the tiny change purse that dangled from her wrist. She picked up her fan and hurried down to the second-floor music gallery. Already the gathering numbered sixty or seventy, and it was yet early. Lady Mary Barow greeted her warmly with a kiss and whispered, “There are at least two males to every female, so I think we can claim success.”

Sabre felt alarmingly self-conscious. The eyes of the men seemed to be fastened upon her breasts as if they were waiting for the moment when they would pop from
the restraint of the low bodice. She kept glancing down with alarm, until she sternly chided herself for being a coward. After all, were not the tempting female fashions designed specifically to lure men’s eyes?

She sat upon a low stool near a group of ladies who were showing off their skills with lutes, harps, and virginals. She loved the music and gave it her rapt attention. Anne Vasavour was singing a love song, her large expressive eyes giving added subtle meaning to the words. Sabre felt her cheeks warm and raised her fan to cool herself. As she did so she glanced about and saw at least a dozen men watching her with speculative eyes. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she saw Matthew come toward her. She arose and gave him her cheek to kiss, as was obviously the fashion.

“Oh, Matt, thank you for coming.”

“Did you get my note?” he asked.

“Yes. Have you spoken with him yet?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve had my audience with His Lordship and managed to convey the impression that I had delivered his dutiful bride to Blackmoor.”

“He didn’t seem suspicious?” she asked.

“The thought didn’t occur to him that anyone, least of all a woman, would disobey his orders.” He frowned and said, “I’m off to Calais in the morning for a load of expensive French silks. Sabre, promise me you won’t do anything foolish while I’m gone.” His eyes kept lowering to her breasts; he didn’t seem to even notice the magnificent necklace.

“Matt, would you be a darling and get me some wine?”

The moment he left her, half a dozen admirers joined him and asked for introductions to the voluptuous new quarry. At the same moment Philadelphia Carey joined
Sabre. “Are you going to be selfish with that devastatingly handsome rogue or will you be generous enough to introduce me, Sabre?”

Matt brought her wine and the men formed a semicircle about her. “Sabre, I’d like you to meet a few people.” He said the names one after another without stopping. “Lord Oxford, James Clinton, Sir John Heneage, Anthony Bacon, de Villiers the French ambassador, and William Herbert, who I believe is the earl of Pembroke’s son. Gentlemen, may I present Mistress Sabre Wilde, niece of Lady Kate Ashford and newly arrived at court.”

Each took his turn to press a lingering kiss upon her hand while she murmured, “M’lord,” to each face she could not pin a name to. A little push from behind reminded her of Philadelphia. “Matt, I would like you to meet my friend Philadelphia Carey—this is Matthew Hawkhurst.”

The girl’s eyes widened in appreciation. “Are you brother to Lord Devonport?”

“No,” said Matthew, teasing her, “he is brother to me! Would you ladies care for some cards?” asked Matthew, trying to draw them away from the other men; but as they moved off toward the card tables, the men tagged along to stand about and watch. He seated Sabre to his right and Philadelphia to his left. James Clinton quickly filled the fourth seat. Matt said smoothly, “Shall we play sant? I think it’s a game the ladies particularly enjoy.”

Sabre puzzled over how four could play when there wouldn’t be enough cards, but of course Matt put into play two packs of thirty-two cards and her frown disappeared. Sabre lost every hand and her small supply of gold coins was soon gone. Finally she won money from James Clinton and suspected that he had let her win. She
didn’t mind if she won or lost because she was enjoying the challenge, the witty repartee, the laughter, and the admiring glances.

BOOK: The Hawk and the Dove
4.29Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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