"Go on," she prodded impatiently. Deauville was searching his memory, perhaps embroidering now.
"She told me her father had far-flung interests and that she had quarreled with her mother over her blonde friend who had come to visit her."
Carolina missed a step. "And what was the basis of this quarrel?" she managed in a tight voice.
Deauville was frowning. "I cannot-ah, I remember now." His face cleared. "She said her blonde friend was very wild and had paraded about London by night dressed as a man."
By now Carolina's silver eyes were snapping. It was true enough but it had been only for one night! How dare Reba tell this-this total stranger about it! And what else might she have told him? Carolina's face, hidden from view from Deauville as she looked down at her satin toes, was mutinous. Deauville, unaware of this, went obligingly on with his tale.
"She told me that her blonde friend had visited at their country house and had horrified her mother by accepting a quantity of gold for her favors from a gentleman who just then was paying his addresses to her and-to
Carolina's head came up. "Oh, how dare she?" she cried indignantly, coming to such an abrupt halt on the dance floor that Deauville almost lost his grip upon her. Across the room her buccaneersaw her abrupt halt. He straightened and strode through the dancers toward her. "Telling lies about me when she knew very well-!" She checked herself for the Frenchman was regarding her dizzily.
"You knew this lady?" he demanded in amazement. Carolina tossed her blonde head. "I knew her very well indeed! We attended Mistress Chesterton's school together-before it became a gaming establishment. I am delighted to know how Reba got the scar on her hip, Monsieur Deauville, and I hope she did you no harm as she has done so many others!"
The lady in question had indeed done him no harm save to spend all his available cash and forget him the moment the money was gone, but Deauville was too astonished to admit it. He stood stock-still amid the milling dancers and stared down at the flushed angry face turned up to his.
A moment later Kells had reached them.
"Has this fellow insulted you?" he demanded.
"No, indeed," said Carolina with energy. "It is Reba Tarbell who has insulted me-or perhaps I should say the Marchioness of Saltenham since that is what she is now called! This gentleman was just telling me how she got the small scar on her hip!"
Since Deauville had no idea he had been dallying with a future marchioness and Kells had no idea that Reba had a small scar on her hip-or if she did, how it could possibly matter to Carolina-both men looked down at her, dazed.
Kells recovered first. "Deauville," he said firmly. "I think I had best finish this dance with my lady. She is upset."
The Frenchman, aware that he was in beyond his depth, nodded gravely and strode through the dancers, frowning as he tried to sort it all out.
Curious looks followed the tall buccaneer captain as he swirled his gorgeous lady about the floor. "Is this why you have been clinging to Deauville, entreating him to keep on dancing with you?" he demanded. "To learn about Reba?"
Carolina nodded angrily. "But I haven't been entreating him to dance with me, just entreating him to finish his story! Oh, Kells, Monsieur Deauville had an affair with Reba while she was staying at Jenny Chesterton's-can you imagine? And she told me all the time she had been pining away for Robin Tyrell!"
The straight line of her buccaneer's mouth altered into a twitch of amusement at the comers. "I can see the tale might interest you," he agreed dryly.
"Oh, she is a dreadful liar!" Carolina cried indignantly. "Saying I accepted gold from you for my favors!"
Her buccaneer's cold eyes strayed to the Frenchman watching the dancers silently from the sidelines. "Did Deauville say that?"
"No, he told me Reba said it was 'her blonde friend who carne to visit her,' and I told him her story was an out-and-out lie!"
Kells laughed. "So you identified yourself as the 'friend' of the story. Very clever, Christabel!"
Carolina flushed at the critical note in his voice. "And to think that I was the one who got her married to Robin! Made her a marchioness!" Indignation heightened her already high color and sharpened her voice. "Oh, how I wish I could undo that!"
"It was not precisely a marriage made in heaven," Kells reminded her. "With that harpy for a mother-in-law, the Marquess of Saltenham must frequently wish himself dead!"
"Oh, ifonly they would both but cross my path once more!" Carolina ground her pretty teeth.
"You would hoist them to the yardarm, I presume?" He grinned, for it had been pleasant to learn that although Deauville's interest in Carolina was very marked, his lady's interest in the Frenchman had been fleeting.
"Or something very like!" rejoined his lady crushingly. She reminded herself abruptly that she had not corne here to discuss old friends or old times but to get financing for Kells's plantation on the Cobre. "I am afraid I have been distracted by Monsieur Deauville's story," she said apologetically. She looked about her. searching the crowd. "Where is the governor?"
"It seems his suit was ruined by the debacle in the kitchen," laughed Kells. "He went upstairs, all splattered, to struggle into another coat, and word has filtered downstairs that in his hurry he split one of the seams of his new one and must needs wait about whilst it is mended-all his others being too gravy-stained to wear!His wife and cousin are greeting the latecomers."
Carolina's good humor was restored. After all, Reba and Robin Tyrell, Marquess of Saltenham, were far away in England. There was small chance she would ever see either one of them again.
Having satisfied himself that Carolina was not being annoyed by some insolent fellow, Kells relinquished her for the next dance to the elderly doctor who had come to attend the injured serving girl and who stayed to dance a measure with the prettiest girl in the room.
"The wench will recover soon enough," the old doctor told Carolina placidly. He snorted. "Faith, 'twill teach her to have more respect for hot pots when she handles them in the future!"
And so it was that Carolina did not meet the guest of honor until some time later-for her beauty and her light step made her a popular dancing partner. Over first one satin shoulder and then another, she saw Kells drinking with the governor, who had come downstairs at last and was mopping his brow. She wondered if Kells was having success in getting the governor's backing-but of course he would! Kells's powerful figure fairly exuded determination-who would not want to back him in any venture? Even a plantation up the Cobre! Carolina tossed her head in a manner that set her white-gold curls dancing, and Louis Deauville, now watching her ardently from across the room, thought she looked more ravishing than ever.
Brought up breathless beside a small group which included the arrogant figure of Mistress Grummond, Carolina heard her voice say piercingly, "This climate has near overcome me. I do not see how any of you endure so much heat!"
"We grow used to it," was the mild rejoinder.
"Indeed it has prostrated me," sighed young Mistress Grummond, wielding her fan so energetically that the frizz of curls on her forehead danced. "I have been unable to rise from my bed all week."
Carolina turned to look at the complainer. Slender, dark-haired and of a sallow complexion, Mistress Grummond seemed not to have much in common with her florid cousin, the governor. Nor did her voice contain any of his humor as she added pettishly, "There are two sights in this out-of-the-way place" (Mistress Grummond hailed from York and was impressed by it) "that I have promised myself before I leave, however, no matter how hot the weather!"
"Really, and what is that?" asked a bored voice.
"A sight of the woman they call Rouge and that other one-the Silver Wench."
A sudden embarrassed stillness fell over the gathering and Carolina, who had just had a glass of port placed in her hand by the adoring Monsieur Deauville, filled that silence with a light laugh.
"You will find the two have not much in common," she observed. "Really?" asked Mistress Grummond avidly. "And why is that? Are they both not pirate's women?"
"No, the Silver Wench prefers buccaneers." Carolina's voice held an undercurrent of laughter. "And you will be better off if you do not meet Rouge, who queens over New Providence." She turned to answer something Monsieur Deauville was asking, leaving someone hastily to explain to Mistress Grummond the difference between pirates and buccaneers.
But she could not help hearing-for Mistress Grummond's voice was both penetrating and loud-the lady's next question: "Who was that woman who entered into our conversation and how does she know so much about it?" And the chuckled answer,
"She is the Silver Wench herself."
"What?" cried Mistress Grummond, her sallow face flushing. "You mean my cousin invites her here?"
Carolina stiffened. She turned to face the newcomer.
"Here and everywhere," she said crisply. "I will remind you that Acting Governor White may rule this island but buccaneers control the sea. And the sea"-she paused for emphasis-"surrounds this island."
That flushed face was still looking at her indignantly, but for once Mistress Grummond could think of nothing to say. She turned abruptly and made her way through the crowd.
"I fear the governor's cousin likes neither our climate nor our ways," came a rueful observation. "I fear the governor's cousin must needs learn to like them if she chooses to remain," said Carolina, nettled.
"You forgot to add, your beauty rules Port Royal," said Kells, coming up behind her and claiming her for the next dance.
He had obviously heard the entire exchange-and did not care. Why should he worry about what some chit from Yorkshire thought about them?
"Have you spoken to the governor?" she asked as he whirled her about the floor, and he nodded.
"The governor shares the general opinion. He is overextended, he has no ready money, no prospects of any- still, should I choose to go to sea again, he would somehow find the money for a share in the enterprise. "
She stared up at him indignantly. "I can't believe he said that! You would make a wonderful planter! I have a good mind to speak to him myself!"
His grip tightened on her hand. "You will let the matter drop," he advised her. "I have no wish for the governor to know how straitened matters are for me."
"Well, at least I will plead a headache and leave early!" she flashed. He shrugged.
"As you wish. I find these crushes beastly hot myself. My coat feels stuck to my back."
"Then we will find Governor and Mistress White and bid them both a good night," she declared energetically.
She was still smouldering when they stepped through the front door.
"I thought you were worried about your slippers and must needs wait for Hawks with the carriage," he said, grinning.
"Oh, bother my slippers! We'll walk home!"
Kells swung into an easy gait beside her, but he kept a sharp lookout for thieves and footpads who might be lurking in dark doorways at this time of night and not recognize him for who he was-a dangerous buccaneer despite his fine clothing. Side by side they strolled back across the sandy way beneath the big white stars that lit the velvet night.
"You looked lovely tonight," he told her affectionately when they had gained her bedroom. "And loyal, too." He tilted her chin up with one finger and looked down into her face. "You would have bearded the governor for me."
"I still will!" "No," he said ruefully. "That die is cast. There is no other place to turn."
But there would have been if she had not been so rash as to send away the necklace!
"You will think of something," she said confidently.
He drew her lovingly into his arms. "You are a citadel of misplaced confidence," he murmured and buried his face in her perfumed hair.
"Wait," she said breathlessly, as his warm hand pressed her bodice downward. "This material is fragile -you will tear it."
"Then by all means let us get it off," he laughed, and expertly helped her with her hooks, then watched her slide the sumptuous black and silver gown from her slim body.
Now clad in her chemise, Carolina helped Kells ease the tight gun-metal coat from his broad shoulders, smiling to see him give a sigh of relief to be rid of it. He caught that smile and swooped her up, carried her to the window. The wind caught her light chemise skirts and blew them back against his muscular thighs as he stood holding her, letting the tropical wind caress them both as he looked out at the velvet Caribbean night.
She looked up at his dark visage, trying to divine what he was thinking, but his expression in starlight was unfathomable and told her nothing. As if aware of the sudden uplifting of her head, he bent his own and rubbed his cheek gently against hers.
"Carolina," he said huskily. "Do not be so upset. We have been through so much, we will conquer this, too."
Carolina pressed her head against his chest that he might not see her tears. He meant so much to her, this stalwart buccaneer, whom the world seemed determined to send back to a life at sea.
And even as they whispered and caressed, even as they forgot the world and slipped into ecstasy, Gilly, who had seized the opportunity to slip out before the house was locked up and who would slip back in again by morning's light, lay wrapped in the arms of her pirate lover in an upstairs room of a waterfront dive on Thames Street-e-complaining.
"The Silver Wench's always got the necklace on, Jarvis," Gilly was telling him in disgust, even as she wriggled against him, trying to get her legs arranged more comfortably. "I think she sleeps with it."
"You'll find a way to get it," Jarvis panted-for at the moment he was absorbed in more pressing matters, with the girl's hot young body crushed against his own.
Jarvis had no idea that Gilly was planning to double-cross him, just as Gilly, who woke with the dawn with her mind still sparkling with rubies and diamonds, had no idea that the necklace she lusted after was but a fake....