Care and Feeding of Pirates (15 page)

Honoria felt slightly sick. "How
unsavory."

"For now, I want him to think me as unsavory
as he is, until I can get solid information out of him."

Honoria looked up at Christopher and the grim
anger on his face. "You think Manda is his piece de
resistance."

He nodded. "If she is here, that is what she
will be."

Christopher propelled her onward, his stride
slow but strong. If Manda did prove to be Switton's prize, the
earl's only worries would be which method Christopher would use
when he killed him.

They joined the crowd gathering near a folly
at the end of the garden, the kind of building wealthy gentlemen
constructed on their grounds to pretend they enjoyed Greek
architecture. Today the folly was being used as a stage. Curtains
screened it from the rest of the guests, while footmen wove through
the throng with glasses of champagne and port for the gentlemen,
rattafia and lemonade for the ladies. Two footmen were stationed on
the steps to keep the curious away.

Christopher guided Honoria with his hand on
the small of her back until they joined Grayson, Alexandra, and Mr.
Henderson near the folly. Honoria scanned the guests around her but
she recognized no one--presumably these people did not figure into
Diana's rather quiet London circle. In fact, she recognized no one
but . . .

"Mr. Templeton!"

She said it out loud, so great was her
surprise. Mr. Templeton stood not far from them, and for the first
time since Honoria had met him, he did not have his mother with
him. That he'd attend any social gathering without his mother was
as much of a shock as seeing him here at all.

Mr. Templeton turned as he heard his name,
and his face went scarlet. "Miss Ardmore . . . er . . . Mrs. Raine.
Pleasant day for a garden party."

"Indeed."

Mr. Templeton cleared his throat, but instead
of saying more, he bowed, looking embarrassed, and edged out of
sight.

"What on earth is he doing here?" Honoria
asked.

Alexandra moved to stand next to her. "Yes,
quite a surprise to see him at a gathering like this. Mr. Templeton
is usually so punctilious."

"He's sowing his wild oats," Christopher said
mildly.

Before Honoria could ask what on earth
Christopher meant by that bizarre statement, Lord Switton walked up
the steps to stand front of the draperies.

He held up his hands, and his guests quieted.
"We must be cautious, my friends," Lord Switton said, his voice
rolling across them. "We have a wild animal in our midst, and it
must not be allowed to escape."

Little sounds of excitement ran through the
crowd. Ladies fanned themselves.

"Do not worry," the earl went on. "We will
keep it caged. But in the event that it escapes, do look to
yourselves." He paused, letting the words have their effect.
"However, we have taken all steps to ensure your safety." He
nodded, and two more footmen approached the folly. "Who here among
us is willing to help me tame the savage beast?"

The footmen snatched the curtains away.

The object behind it was a cage. Made of
wood, it looked plenty sturdy, and was large enough for a man to
walk about in.

Standing in the middle of it, head up, black
eyes defiant, her form swathed in a leopard's skin that barely
covered her, stood a woman. She was tall and slim, with sleek black
hair, dark eyes, and creamy black skin. She looked very angry, but
her anger was nothing compared to what Honoria saw in Christopher's
eyes.

*****

Chapter Twelve

Christopher's slow match burned out. He had
no clear memory of handing Honoria off to Henderson, but he found
himself moving toward the folly with the determination of a lava
flow.

Manda turned her head and saw him. Her dark
eyes flickered once before she deliberately turned away, her
expression neutral, as though she'd not just seen her brother alive
again after four years of believing him dead.

"Mr. Raine," Lord Switton cried in delight.
"Will you be the first to take on our Amazon?"

Christopher sprang up the steps to the cage's
door. Laughter and applause sounded and, this being England, men
started calling out wagers. "Twenty guineas on the Amazon!"

"Let me in," Christopher said to Switton.

Switton beamed at him. "Mrs. Raine indulges
you, does she? 'Tis a fine thing to have an understanding wife." He
nodded at the two footmen, took a key from his pocket, and leaned
to speak quietly to Christopher. "If you take her down, you may
have her. If you don't, we will try to remove you in one piece.
She's a Fury."

Manda and Christopher exchanged glances
through the bars, black eyes meeting gray. They'd learned long ago
to understand each other without speaking.

Christopher sensed Honoria watching intently.
She had not offered argument or questioning, had not tried to stop
him. She seemed to know what Christopher needed to do.

He removed his coat and cravat and rolled up
the sleeves of his shirt. When Christopher was ready, Switton
passed the key to one of the footmen, who unlocked the cage with an
unsteady hand.

The footman quickly opened the cage door and
allowed Christopher to slip inside, then at once closed the door
and locked it again.

Manda paced like the animal Switton claimed
her to be, nervous and restless. She wore nothing but the stupid
leopard skin, which would no doubt drop from her body as soon as
she began fighting. Manda would not care, but it was one more
reason Switton would die.

Christopher wondered if any man had bested
her yet. From the fierce look in Manda's eyes, he knew that answer
was
No
.

He made a signal that would be visible only
to her. Manda nodded imperceptibly, then came at him, launching her
foot at Christopher's face. Christopher easily blocked her kick,
then they began sparring, falling into patterns that they'd learned
years and years ago.

By some chance, the leopard skin stayed in
place, much to the crowd's disappointment. Wagers on the fight,
however, came thick and fast, some on Christopher, most on
Manda.

Perspiration glittered on Manda's dark skin.
The gentlemen sang out lewd compliments to her, but Manda ignored
them. Her gaze was on Christopher, watching him for
instructions.

They'd done this so many times together,
practicing to stay fit or staging fights in taverns to win wagers.
Manda kicked again, and Christopher caught her foot and spun her
away. He made to grab her, and she easily evaded him, landing a
punch on his back as he went by.

Four years since Christopher had seen her,
yet they fell into their patterns with ease. His heart beat hard
with relief and joy. Manda was alive, and she was whole.

He'd had no clear idea of what to do when
he'd sprung up here, only anger, burning and intense. Christopher
made himself calm, working out a strategy that would fit with what
he, Finley, and Henderson had already planned for Manda's
rescue.

Christopher signaled Manda again, and she
responded with another barely perceptible nod. When she next rushed
him, she caught his shirt and pulled it from his body.

The crowd gasped. Christopher heard Honoria's
shocked intake of breath, and he knew why. The horrific scars on
his side, which he'd hidden from her thus far, were now bared for
all to see.

Manda quickly twisted the shirt into one long
piece of cloth. When Christopher came at her again, she looped it
around his neck and pulled it tight.

Manda was strong. Christopher tensed his neck
muscles, but still felt the burn of the lawn on his throat. He
coughed. Manda's slim arms worked as she pulled him backward, and
Christopher clawed at the cloth, not entirely pretending. Men
cheered as Manda made a show of tightening the shirt about his
neck.

"Please, someone help him!" Honoria's cry
echoed over the noise. "Please! She's killing him!"

Christopher heard Finley bellowing, quite
close, "Get that cage open!"

The key rattled in the lock, and the wooden
gate swung open. Manda abruptly let go of the shirt, and as one,
she and Christopher sprinted for the opening. Finley had already
pushed one of the footmen from the stage, and Christopher sent the
other flying after him.

By now the crowd was in tumult, ladies
screaming and men cursing. Gentlemen leapt forward, ready to stop
Manda, ready to stop Christopher. Christopher heard the sound of
fists hitting flesh as Finley pummeled them back.

Manda kicked, and men ducked out of her way,
but they were drunk and frenzied and wanted to fight. The crowd
closed around them, ready to pull down both Manda and
Christopher.

Christopher heard a sudden, high-pitched
scream, followed by agitated voices. Alexandra cried, "Help, help!
Oh, help! Mrs. Raine has fainted!"

Christopher grinned tightly. They were
treasures, both of them. He'd show Honoria later how much he
appreciated her timely intervention.

First they had to get away. At Alexandra's
cry, about a third of the fighters turned back, pleased to find an
activity less dangerous. The other two-thirds battled on gleefully,
eager to beat down the fugitives.

Then Henderson appeared, a pistol in his
hand. At the sight of the long-barreled gun held by a man who
looked more than able to use it, more of the fighters changed their
minds. They turned away with cries of, "Steady on, man."

A final clump of men barred their path. Half
drunk on port, their fighting blood up, they prepared to take back
the Amazon any way they could.

A small figure rocketed around Christopher
and dove at the gentlemen in their path. The tails of his frock
coat made him look even more like a small, determined comet. Rupert
Templeton brandished something, someone's sword stick most likely,
and shouted at the men in the way.

They stared at him like wolves watching a
puppy who'd suddenly decided to attack the pack. The astonished
amusement left their faces, however, when Mr. Templeton started
jabbing them with his sword point. Men shouted and reached for him,
giving Christopher and Manda a clear path to the lake.

Manda ran. Her foot caught on a clump of
grass, and Henderson caught her arm to steady her.

She drew back, ready to strike him, but
Christopher stopped her. "He's with us. Finley, get the
ladies."

Grayson was already turning back.
Christopher, Manda, and Henderson ran on through the elegant
garden, down the green to the lake. As they passed Mr. Templeton,
he stopped and saluted.

Christopher acknowledged this by dragging Mr.
Templeton out of the way of the enraged dandies and shoving him
back toward the garden. Templeton ran, shouting all the way, a man
enjoying his first triumph in battle.

Manda, Henderson, and Christopher sprinted
for the flat sheet of water stretching from the estate to empty
hills beyond. One small boat lay at the end of the little pier.

Much of the pursuit had dropped behind, most
of the gentlemen at the soiree liking little more exercise than a
Sunday stroll. The rest, the fit ones, still reveled in the chase.
They laughed, they made ribald commentary, they joked about what
they would do to Manda when they caught her.

Christopher's boots pounded on the pier, and
then he, Manda, and Henderson dropped into the boat. Christopher
found the two pistols he'd readied the night before and pointed
them both at the gentleman at the head of the pursuit. "Stop," he
said clearly.

The man threw up his hands and halted, his
boots scraping the boards of the pier. The men behind him piled
into him one by one.

Henderson unlocked the oars and rowed away.
The pier, not meant to hold ten drunken gentlemen pounding and
shouting, gently crumpled and fell into the water.

Christopher uncocked his pistols and sat
down, ignoring the splashing and chaos behind him.

He was shirtless, Manda mostly naked.
Henderson's clothes were still impeccable, his spectacles gleaming
in the moonlight. Even Henderson's hair was unruffled.

Manda looked at Christopher and said, "What
the hell are you doing still alive?"

"Looking for you," Christopher said. "Here,
Henderson, take the tiller. I'm too cold not to row."

They exchanged places. Henderson paused long
enough to unbutton his coat and drape it over Manda's bare
shoulders.

Christopher held his breath, waiting for
Manda to grab Henderson's wrist and toss him over the side. Instead
she stared at him as though she'd never seen anything like him
before.

She turned to Christopher as Henderson sat
down again. "So you didn't really get hanged? I should have
known."

"Raines are hard to kill." Christopher
grunted a little against the pull of the oars. Now that his
adrenaline was cooling, he wanted a strong drink and a good tumble
with Honoria, and he wanted both right now.

Henderson cleared his throat. "I'd find this
reunion a bit more touching if I knew Honoria and Lady Stoke were
safe."

"Finley will get them to the carriage."
Christopher smiled to himself, thinking about drawing Honoria into
his arms as soon as he saw her again.

Of course, she'd seen the ruin of his torso
when Manda had stripped off his shirt, and she'd have many
questions. He felt Manda's gaze on him, she wanting to ask as well,
but deciding to wait for a better time.

Henderson grimaced. "There's water all over
the bottom of this boat. That is the end of my shoes. I hope you
appreciate this, Miss Raine."

Manda gaped at him again. Christopher didn't
think anyone had referred to Manda as
Miss Raine
in her
life.

"I don't call this much of a boat," she said
deprecatingly.

"I
call
it the best we could find at
the time," Henderson answered, words clipped.