How To Please a Pirate (15 page)

She wondered if he was thinking about that
time he kissed Mistress Jacquelyn in the garden. Judging from the
wooly-headed, dazed expressions she saw on some of the other
dancers’ faces, adults probably thought about that sort of thing a
lot.

When the gavotte tottered to a stop, Mistress
Jacquelyn tinkled a little bell at the far end of the ballroom.

“Dinner will be served directly, but before
we retire to the banquet, Lord Drake begs your indulgence while he
says a few words—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Daisy muttered. Mistress
Jacquelyn went on for several more minutes about how grateful the
folk of Dragon Caern were to have the son of the house returned
from the sea and all that gushy rot.

Daisy stopped listening. Even when Uncle
Gabriel started talking, Daisy’s attention was riveted on her
sister. Judging from the little shakes and nods of her head,
Hyacinth seemed to be in silent communication with someone across
the room. Daisy followed the direction of Hy’s gaze and found that
horrible Baron Who’s-his-face.

He gestured and waggled his eyebrows back at
her sister, even though he was standing behind that other lady. He
leaned down and whispered into the frowning woman’s ear and then
slipped behind one of the curtained alcoves that led into the
garden.

How rude! And while Uncle Gabriel’s still
talking, to boot!

Of course, Daisy wasn’t attending one bit to
her uncle’s speech either, but then she wasn’t even supposed to be
here so her rudeness didn’t count.

Then Uncle Gabriel’s booming voice ceased and
the revelers began moving slowly in the direction of the dining
hall, like a herd of cattle toward its feeding trough. A wide
assortment of silver-buckled boots and ornate slippers shuffled
past, stirring up a low-lying cloud of dust that tickled Daisy’s
nose and made her fight off a sneeze.

It also blocked Daisy’s view of Hyacinth. She
pressed her cheek to the hardwood and tried to follow the progress
of Hyacinth’s too-small but oh-so-cunningly beaded pair of
pantofles.

Daisy’s brows nearly met over her pert nose
in consternation. Hyacinth was going the wrong way.

Oh, wait. That’s right
. Mistress
Jacquelyn had only given her permission to attend the first set.
When the rest of the guests retired for supper, Hyacinth was
supposed to retire to the nursery.

Where she belonged.

Wouldn’t she be disappointed when she
discovered Daisy already knew everything that had happened and Hy
would have no captive audience for tales of her exploits?

Serves her right for trying to act so
grown-up and superior.

Daisy was just about to scramble from her
place of concealment when she realized Hyacinth wasn’t on her way
to the stairs that led to their room. She watched in horrified
fascination as her sister’s beaded slippers disappeared into a
curtained alcove.

The same curtained alcove that awful baron
had sneaked into earlier.

Once she was sure the rest of the guests were
gone, Daisy bolted after her sister. There was no one in the
alcove, but the door to the garden beyond was open a tiny crack.
Daisy stuck her head out and peered into the moon-washed night.

Hyacinth was nowhere to be seen.

Gabriel had never felt less like eating. He
remembered most of the older folk at the festivities and though
many had gained flesh and lost teeth, he was able to call them by
name. They treated him with every courtesy to his face, but he’d
lost count of the number of times conversations ground to an abrupt
halt whenever he joined a group. Obviously, his past was grist for
the gossip mill and the wags found it a tastier dish than even the
delicacies created by the excellent Mrs. Beadle.

Not that he cared for himself. In fact, he
didn’t give a ship rat’s arse what the nobility thought about him.
But it seemed to matter a great deal to Lyn. He’d come to think of
her by that secret name, though she didn’t want it to pass his
lips. What she wanted had come to mean a great deal to him.

A very great deal indeed.

So somehow, he’d get through this
interminable evening without embarrassing her if he could help it.
He’d court one or more of the women she seemed to think would make
a good baroness. God help him, he’d even marry one of them.

But how he was going to bed one when he knew
Lyn lying alone in her chamber down the hall, he had no clue.

The first course of jellied eel and stewed
kidneys was being laid on. He looked down the long table. Since Lyn
hadn’t seated herself at his side, he hoped she’d at least be at
the foot of the table where he might catch a glimpse of her from
time to time.

He should have known she’d be too crafty for
that.

Uncle Eustace was in the place of honor at
the foot of the table and he suspected Lyn was seated on his right.
He couldn’t be sure because the beefy vicar from Salisbury on her
right hid all but her dainty hands.

Like most of Lyn’s decisions, the placement
was probably wise. He’d have had a hard time conversing with anyone
if she was in his line of sight all evening. If Jacquelyn Wren sat
opposite him, it might signal to his prospective brides that she
was making a certain proprietary claim on the workings of the
estate, at the least.

He wished she’d assert a claim on him.

But she wouldn’t.

Most women wouldn’t put the needs of an
estate before their own. Just his luck that he’d found one made of
sterner stuff.

Uncle Eustace raised a glass toward him in
silent salute. Even though Gabriel had forestalled any priestly
scolding from Eustace, he knew his uncle was still furious about
what had passed between him and Lyn. Eustace’s mute toast warmed
him. At least, someone was pleased with his performance this night.
No doubt, Lyn would give her critique of his deportment later,
whether he welcomed it or not.

A bite of fresh, crusty bread was half-way to
his mouth when he saw Daisy skitter into the banquet hall. Her
little features taut with worry, his niece made a bee-line for Miss
Jack.

Very convincing
frantic face
,
he thought. Daisy could have a bright future on a London stage, if
it wasn’t too scandalous an occupation for a wellborn lass to
consider. Whatever devilry the little imp had dreamed up, Jacquelyn
could handle.

But she shouldn’t have to
. He snorted
in consternation.

On this night of extreme manners,
successfully negotiating the shoals of society was plague enough,
the last thing Gabriel needed was trouble from his brother’s brood
of she-vipers. Sometimes Gabriel imagined his brother Rupert was
enjoying his trials from the comforts of heaven. Perhaps his
perfect sibling might someday tumble off one of those fluffy
celestial seats for saddling him with this little pack of fiends
below.

Gabriel was jerked back from his musings when
Jacquelyn stood and flashed him a wide-eyed glance. She rushed from
the banquet hall with Daisy at her heels.

He didn’t need further prompting. He’d read
genuine concern in Lyn’s eyes. Without so much as a by-your-leave
to the viscount at his side, he rose and strode after them.

There had better be a real emergency,
he thought disgustedly. If Daisy was crying wolf, he’d tan her bum
so well, she’d need to carry a pillow about with her in order to
sit for the next month.

And she was his favorite.

He caught up to Daisy and Jacquelyn in the
long arched corridor.

“ . . . and then I couldn’t see her
anywhere!” Daisy finished miserably.

“What’s amiss?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes at
his niece.

Instead of wilting under ‘the Dragon’s
Glare,’ Daisy nearly knocked him over, wrapping her thin arms
around his waist and clinging to him. The child was trembling. Not
even Daisy was that good an actress.

“Oh, Uncle Gabriel, you have to find
her.”

“Hyacinth’s gone missing,” Jacquelyn said,
panic creeping into her voice. “With a man. From Daisy’s
description, I think it’s your friend, Baron Curtmantle.”

“Damnation.”

“Indeed, but more to the point, what do we
do? Dragon Caern is a veritable rabbit warren. We have no idea
where they’ve gone and if we raise a general alarm Hyacinth’s
reputation and yours by association is ruined.”

“Hang my reputation,” Gabriel growled. “Damn
that Hugh. Not again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that this isn’t the first time I’ve
gone looking for a girl Hugh’s seduced.” Gabriel snapped his
fingers. “That’s it. I know where they are. Hugh would think it
clever to use the same spot.”

Gabriel flew out the nearest alcove and into
the garden. In the far corner of the open space, an exterior
staircase wrapped around one of Dragon Caern’s many turrets.
Gabriel mounted the steps two at a time, fingering the hilt of his
sword.

The sword was meant to be decorative,
Jacquelyn had explained, as much an ornament as the silver on his
shoes or the golden lace at the wrists of his frockcoat. She
insisted it was quite the done thing that he wear a weapon on the
dance floor. Now he was grateful he’d demanded that it be
functional as well. The hilt might be crusted with jewels, but the
blade was honed to a killing edge.

As he neared the top of the tower, an eerie
sense of history repeating itself stole over him. The last time he
climbed this tower, he’d found Catherine, his betrothed, with her
heels in the air and his friend Hugh grunting between them.

He’d left for sea the next morning without a
word to anyone. It was the only way he could avoid the urge to gut
his childhood friend and denounce his fiancée for a lightskirt.

Rage roared through him. By God, if he found
Hugh rutting his niece, he’d not hesitate this time. He’d hang the
man by his own entrails.

His bloody thoughts were interrupted when he
heard Jacquelyn and Daisy clambering behind him.

“Go back,” he whispered hoarsely. If there
was carnage in his near future, the last thing he needed was this
woman and child to witness his savagery.

“No, if Hyacinth is there, she may need me,”
Jacquelyn said.

“Me, too.” Daisy piped from behind her.

Gabe was about to object more strenuously
when he heard Hyacinth’s voice from above.

“Oh, please, let me go. I want to go back. I
want to go back,” her reedy voice chanted in despair.

“Hugh!” Gabriel bellowed as he flew up the
remaining steps.

When he threw open the door to the top of the
tower, he found his niece, hugging her own knees making herself
into a very small ball. Hugh was standing a few feet from her. He
hadn’t had time to re-button both sides of his drop-front breeches,
but he’d been forward thinking enough to draw his blade when he
heard Gabriel’s shout.

“You bastard,” Gabriel said, his voice low
and crackling with menace. He heard Jacquelyn’s gasp behind him.
Then she and Daisy’s hurried over to wrap Hyacinth in their
arms.

“Oh, Mistress Jacquelyn!” Hyacinth
wailed.

“Come, Drake. Surely you understand. The girl
taunted me all evening,” Curtmantle said. “If you lay out such a
tasty morsel, you can’t blame a man for wanting to take a bite.
After all, you were a pirate. Lord knows you’ve done your share of
taking.”

“Not if the lass was unwilling or young
enough to still be in the schoolroom,” Gabriel said. “Even a pirate
has certain standards you seem to lack.”

Hugh laughed unpleasantly. “You may have me
there. So, Drake, what do you intend to do? You ran away rather
than challenge me last time.”

“I’ll not run now.”

Gabriel roared and launched a blistering
assault. The world spun around him, a disjointed blur of shrieks
from the girls, the musty scent of old rushes on the stone floor
and the ever present metallic rasp of blade on blade. A spurt of
red shot across his vision as one of them drew first blood. Wounds
were never felt in the heat of battle. He wasn’t sure if the blood
was his or Hugh’s.

It didn’t matter. A red haze settled over his
eyes. Hugh drew a dirk from his boot and sliced at Gabriel in a
windmill of flashing steel.

Gabriel parried and gave ground. Then in a
neat trick not taught by gentlemanly swordmasters, he disarmed Hugh
with a couple of maneuvers that would have been labeled
unsportsmanlike in any fencing master’s school. But since he and
Hugh were trying to kill each other, the rules could go hang. At
the very least, the flat of Gabriel’s sword across Hugh’s groin
might insure that he’d sire no more bastards this night.

He grabbed up Hugh’s dropped dirk, shoved his
one-time friend to his knees and pulled his head back to expose his
throat.

“Wait!” Hugh pleaded when Gabriel laid the
cold steel to his neck. “I didn’t do anything. The girl is yet a
maid! On my hope of Heaven, I swear it.”

“If Heaven lets the likes of you in, I hope
to be bound for Hell,” Gabriel growled.

“Gabriel, stop!” Jacquelyn stood. “He’s
telling the truth. Tell your uncle, Hyacinth.”

“Well?” he demanded. “What did this scum do
to you?”

Hyacinth swiped her nose on her fancy sleeve
and sniffed. “He told me I was pretty and then he kissed me and
that wasn’t so bad.” Her little face crumpled in misery. “But then
he stuck his tongue down my throat.”

“Ew!” Daisy shuddered.

“And that’s all?” Gabriel demanded, the dirk
still poised for a killing slice.

“There wasn’t time for anything else,” Hugh
said honestly. He swallowed hard and a thin ribbon of red trickled
down his neck. “Think, Gabriel. Surely, you can’t mean to kill me
over this trifle. Not with your banquet hall filled with
guests.”

“Your concern for my guests is touching.”
Gabriel spat the words through clenched teeth.