Lavender smiled up at him, then lowered her lashes and managed a faint pink blush.
Observing the feminine display, Emerald felt oddly irritated. Her gaze narrowed as she glanced at Baret to see how he was taking the flirtation. He had removed his hat and was reaching for Lavender’s pale hand. He brought it to his lips. He had come to the ball to be with Lavender, willing to face criticism over the sinking of the Spanish galleon.
“But Great-aunt Sophie will be delighted to see you,” Lavender was saying. “You know how she adores you. I shall call for her at once.”
She looped her arm through his, smiling happily, her rich skirts rustling softly as he turned to walk with her toward the green.
Not a word for me, thought Emerald.
“Your health hasn’t appeared to improve,” he was saying. “You’ve always been frail. You need to leave the tropics for Buckington House.”
Lavender gave a sweet laugh. “It shall not be too soon for me, and now that you’ll be returning within the year, I know I shall be feeling much better.”
Emerald noticed his sympathetic affection. It was true that Lavender often took to spells of illness that kept her confined to her chamber, but most of the time she was convinced that her cousin was exaggerating to win support for her plans.
But Baret’s amused attitude had transformed to courtly chivalry as he focused his attention on Lavender. And that annoyed Emerald. Nothing for me but barbed remarks and malicious amusement.
Suddenly Baret must have remembered her, for he stopped and turned. “You know Karlton’s daughter, of course,” he said. “Emerald is our guest.”
“Yes, I received your note that she was coming.”
Emerald thought she would choke at the expression that crossed her cousin’s face, but Lavender recovered with a poise more typical of her mother.
“A delightful surprise, Emerald. I was hoping you wouldn’t turn down my invitation again.” She turned to Baret with a smile. “It’s such a trial to get the child to come out and meet people. She’s so shy and … well … a trifle awkward.” She looked at Emerald. “Dear, you mustn’t be ashamed of your background on Tortuga. It’s not your fault about your mother … and how nice you look! I’m so pleased my dress fits you.”
Emerald stared at her, confused and embarrassed all at once. She caught the unpleasant gleam in her cousin’s eyes.
She was on the verge of insisting she must leave when the too-sweet smile on Lavender’s face checked her. That’s just what she wants me to do. Slink away in shame and make a ninny of myself while she impresses Lord Buckington with her sweet spirit. Could he not see through her false charity?
If Lavender wished to pretend that she had invited her, and that she accepted her as a cousin, then the others would most likely fall in line. I won’t run, she told herself. I’ll stay and eat if I choke—and I’ll attend the ball too.
“Why, I just had to come, Cousin Lavender,” she said truthfully and looked at Baret. Did he smile? “And you’ll be leaving soon for Buckington House, Lavender. I may not see you again for years, if ever.”
Lavender’s eyes turned to shivers of blue ice. But she recovered and came back to loop her arm through Emerald’s. “How thoughtful of you to care. Come, dear. The family will be happy to see you.”
“Will they?” asked Emerald quietly.
Lavender looked away as though she hadn’t caught the question.
Before they walked ahead, Emerald thought she noticed a look of subdued admiration in Baret’s dark eyes. It surprised her and offered more courage. He thinks I did well.
She walked beside Lavender. I’m a child of the King, she repeated soundlessly to strengthen her growing resolve.
The babble of voices, the tinkle of glasses, and the excited shrieks of children filled the hot afternoon air. The outdoor supper was well under way on the rolling green lawn fringed with tall palms. Mulatto house slaves carried silver and chinaware vessels from the back kitchen of the planter’s Great House to the dozens of tables that were shaded by woven cane and bright umbrellas. The male slaves had donned white knee-length pants, and the women wore ankle-length dresses of bright yellow, with red bandannas tied about their heads.
Somehow Emerald had gotten through that heart-stopping moment when, in the company of Lavender and Baret, she’d found herself face-to-face with Great-aunt Sophie, standing with Governor Modyford.
Emerald could not recall what introduction was given. If it hadn’t been for Baret’s strong hand clasping her elbow, she might have remained speechless when Sophie turned to look at her.
At first, her great-aunt hadn’t recognized her. Then in a flash, awareness showed in her frosty gray eyes. What are you doing here? they seemed to ask, but Sophie recovered swiftly. Without so much as a hesitation, she smoothly welcomed her nephew Karlton’s “precious daughter” as though Emerald’s presence at such affairs were customary.
Then Sophie turned to Baret, and, though she frowned, it was clear the silver-haired matron set great store by him.
She reached forth pale and thin hands with veins showing. “Baret, you naughty scamp. You’ve stayed away much too long. Come, give me a kiss. And how dare you bring scandal to the family by sinking that dreadful Spanish galleon?”
Baret took her hands and bent to brush his lips against her upturned cheek, his eyes showing amusement. “I didn’t sink it, dear Sophie. I merely borrowed its treasure chest,” he said glibly and lifted her hand, heavy with emeralds. “Ah … Madrid would be envious.”
Sophie gave him a hard look but doubtless was not offended. “They came from Felix.”
“A gift for your endorsement of his marriage to Geneva?”
Sophie’s eyes hardened. “I did not endorse it.” She lifted her hand, turning it so the gems shone. “Do you like them?”
“Rather gaudy. So Felix gave them to you. Ah. That accounts for everything.”
“So it does. But he’s likely to be offended if you suggest it to him. And the earl is here, did you know?”
“I’ve already spoken to Grandfather,” he said, but Emerald noted that he didn’t mention his Uncle Felix. Baret turned to Governor Modyford. “I regret I couldn’t bring Henry Morgan, but he is quite busy making plans for a pleasant voyage.”
The governor-general’s eyes sparked with subdued irony as he picked up the humor. “Hello, Baret. You best keep an eye on your uncle. Felix has arrived to put a pistol to my head in the name of the king. No more letters of marque to be issued against Spain.”
“A tragedy. Felix is active in the king’s Peace Party. I am sure, however, you’ll have authority to exercise your concerns for the safety of Jamaica. There’s news of a planned attack by Spain on Port Royal.”
The governor-general affected surprise, but Emerald noted the twinkle in his eyes. “An attack against Jamaica, you say!”
“Yes. You might wisely consider sending Morgan and his captains on a mission to discover if the secret report is true,” suggested Baret smoothly.
“An excellent suggestion. His Majesty can hardly call me back to London to answer for actions deemed necessary to safeguard his interests in Jamaica.”
“My sentiment exactly, Governor. I am sure the report of Spain’s gathering ships at Havana will prove accurate enough by the time all is known.”
“Yes, and it does take months for news to reach His Majesty. You’ll be joining Morgan again?”
“Not so,” spoke up Lavender sweetly, taking Baret’s arm and looking at the governor. “We’ll both be returning to London soon.”
Emerald had stood there trying to behave as though she belonged in the conversation but was grateful when at last the ordeal was over. When Lavender was briefly called away, Baret walked Emerald across the velvety lawn and deposited her on a cushioned settee. He picked up a palmetto fan some girl had left and handed it to her with a smile. “You look a trifle vexed.”
She fanned herself briskly.
He leaned his shoulder against the tree.
“Was it worth it?”
Her fan stopped in midair. She looked at him, startled. “Worth it! You know very well, sir, I didn’t want to come! It was your malicious way of getting even with me for boarding your ship.”
He smiled. “Ah, but you obviously did want to come. Karlton wanted it as much as you, perhaps more. I did you a favor by insisting.” He folded his arms.
“Is that what you call the ordeal you’ve put me through? A favor?”
He laughed. “I’ll wager that when you slipped into that pretty frock you took from the trunk and gazed at the change in the mirror, the first thought crossing your mind was how you’d enjoy showing the bluestockings on the hill what a fine lady you could be! I merely gave you the opportunity to fulfill your wish. What you do now where the family is concerned is up to you.”
She glanced at him cautiously as she ran her palm across the soft velvet of her sleeve. “But Lavender said she loaned me the dress. How do you know I took it from my father’s trunk?”
His dark eyes smiled. “Because, Lady Harwick, it wasn’t your father’s trunk. It belongs to that rogue Captain Foxworth. He took the trunk as booty from the Santiago—along with some other interesting prizes. I stored the trunk in Karlton’s lookout house.”
She stared up into his smile with her hands hidden in the folds of her skirt. So that’s why Minette said the trunk hadn’t been there the day before. She had once again broken into his things—and this time she had taken something. Her cheeks flamed.
“Aboard the Spanish vessel I opened the trunk to check its contents.” He cocked his head and scanned the yards of burgundy velvet and lace flounces. “I rather liked it. In fact, it was to be a gift for Lavender.”
If her earlier meeting with the family had proved an ordeal, then this moment was its equal. The dress was meant for Lavender!
“I confess the dress looks better on you than it would have on her.”
She left the glass of lime refreshment on the lawn and stood to her feet swiftly.
“Then—then you recognized the dress on the road yesterday. You knew all along who I was, yet you let me go on pretending.”
He smiled. “I did.”
“You—you might have said so then.”
“And ruin your disguise? It’s not often I meet such a capable young lady who can don a pirate’s drawers one night and the velvet gown of a Spanish viceroy’s daughter the next.” He pretended to be impressed. “But you did take me off guard when you appeared on the stairs donned in the black mourning clothes of a widow.”
“And I suppose you’ll give Lavender the added satisfaction of telling her I broke into your trunk.”
“Which trunk?” he asked innocently. “There were two if I recall. The more important one being aboard the Regale. You do owe me an explanation of why you sneaked aboard my ship.”
Her rage melted into alarm. What if he did tell Lavender? “Oh! Please, m’lord—you—you won’t say anything?”
The malicious amusement in his eyes was maddening.
“Being a gallant gentleman, we shall keep the notorious secret between us.”
She sighed, hand at heart. “How can I thank—”
“On one important condition.”
Emerald stopped, seeing his eyes flicker with subdued temper. She moved uneasily. “On what condition?”
“That you tell me why Captain Levasseur paid you to break into my cabin.”
The suggestion completely stunned her. “Paid me! Levasseur?”
“Yes, Levasseur,” he repeated dryly. “Your cousin from Tortuga. That infamous blackguard you likened me to. I suppose you want to deny you’re his cousin and that you were working with him. What was it you were expected to find, madam?”
“I vow he didn’t pay me! He had nothing to do with it.”
His brow went up. Obviously he didn’t believe her.
“I can explain everything,” she whispered desperately, glancing about, for it would be her luck to have someone overhear his odious charge. She saw Lavender coming from the house and walking toward them. It was one of the few times that Emerald was relieved to see her.
Baret noticed her too and straightened from the tree. “You will indeed explain,” he said in a low voice. “Unfortunately this is not the moment to do so. Alas! I’m sure you’re relieved. It will give you time to think up something. But I’ll learn the truth eventually, so you might just as well confess. I may decide to show grace and allow you to escape the wrath that Levasseur will face.”
“Baret?” called Lavender, stopping some distance away. “My father wishes to see you in the library.”
He looked at Emerald and gestured to the white linen tables where a rich assortment of food waited. “And now—I’ll leave you to your appetite. It may be you can find some dainties that meet your approval.”
He offered a deliberate bow. “If you’ll excuse me until tonight.”
“Tonight?” she whispered anxiously as he turned to leave.
His mouth turned. “The ball, madam. You’ll explain all then. So don’t get any notion of slipping away to Levasseur’s ship. I should hate to board and take you away by force. Duels are rather unpleasant.”
It was on her tongue to say that it wasn’t her cousin’s ship that she hoped to board but Jamie Bradford’s, but that would have been the worst mistake she could have made.
She watched him walk across the grass toward Lavender, and together they went up the wide steps into the house. Vaguely she wondered what his meeting with Lord Avery was about. Perhaps the upcoming marriage? The expression on Baret’s face had not shown anticipation. Nevertheless she was certain that he did want to marry her.
Emerald thoughtfully approached one of the picnic tables where a roasted suckling pig with pudding in its belly was the centerpiece of an extravagant supper. There was so much food that it was impossible to taste it all.
She recognized some of the meats: mutton, beef, goat, turkey, duckling. She heard the uniformed slaves offering servings of foods she had never heard of, all exquisitely decorated and proffered in large silver platters or bowls: capons, loin of veal, sweet shoat, heaps of marrow bones, an assortment of minced pies made with tart fruits soaked in wild honey and suet. There were pickled oysters, Westphalian bacon, and an entire table of fresh tropical fruits: plantains, watermelons, custard apples, guavas.
Did nobility always eat like this? she wondered. Did Baret? What was it like at Buckington House? How did the earl dress, and what did he drink? Certainly not kill-devil rum!
Her curiosity over Baret grew. How had he lived before becoming a buccaneer? He must think me terribly ill-bred, she thought and winced. Outwardly Lavender was so poised and gracious.
Had Jette been telling the truth about Cambridge and the Royal Naval Academy?
Jette! Had Jette shown up yet? She must inform Baret that Jette knew about his plan to look for his father.
Emerald left the table to go in search of Jette again. Perhaps he was in the back garden.
Emerald had said nothing of her conversation with Jette to anyone at the Great House, knowing the importance of keeping the information about Royce Buckington secret.
As the afternoon wore on and the guests milled about the barbecue, she cast another quick glance toward the house. Lavender had come out again and was speaking with guests on the lawn. Other members of the family including Geneva and Felix were also with the guests. But Baret was not in sight.
Thinking he might yet be in the drawing room with Sir Avery, who also was nowhere about, Emerald drew in a breath and swiftly made her way across the yard and up the front steps into the hall, glancing behind her to see if the family noticed her. They had not, and she slipped into the house.
The hallway was empty, the house quiet, with most of the family and guests down at the barbecue. From the back of the residence, where the cook room was located, she could hear the muffled voices of servants busily keeping glasses washed and pitchers filled with refreshment.
The
drawing room was to her left, and the door stood open. She walked in quietly and peered inside. The room appeared empty, but an unpleasant odor of pipe tobacco tainted the air. Then she heard someone rise from the leather sofa that faced the front windows.
She did not know whom she expected to see—perhaps Baret—but coming across Sir Jasper now was the last vexation she wanted. Her expression must have told him so, for his mouth turned down and his eyes boldly swept her with a glance.
“Tsk, tsk, m’dear. Not disappointed, surely!”
Emerald stood still. She could see that his mood was far bolder than usual, and she guessed it was because he knew that her father would soon take to sea again and be gone a year.
“Let me guess. Like the other girls, you were hoping to accidentally meet the viscount. But you’ve always been more mature than some of them, and I’m disappointed in you.”
Emerald said in a cool, steady voice, “If you will excuse me, Sir Jasper, I’ve other business to attend.”
She turned to leave, but as swift as a cat he came between her and the door. “There’s plenty of time, Emerald.”
It was the first time he had dared to use her first name. She pretended not to notice.
“I haven’t had a chance to speak with you yet. You are always avoiding me, skirting the lawn a mile out of your way.”
Emerald tried to appear casual. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I’ve spoken to you many times.”
“But never alone.”
She glanced toward the outer hall. The door was still open, and she could see past his shoulder. “I believe Lavender is calling me.”
A dark brow arched, and there was a mocking glint in his eyes. “She’s quite taken up with interests of her own, darlin’.”
He scanned her dress. “Most becoming. You should have many more. And would if you’d—”
She tried to brush past him, but he caught her.
“No use pretending offense. We both know what you are. It’s time, darlin’, you discarded your virtuous airs.”
Stung, Emerald slapped him. And no sooner had she done so than she saw her mistake.
Buccaneers Series Page 19