“No, he’s not my earl, you impertinent child. He’s the captain of my ship.”
“Your ship?” Brent asked.
“My ship,” Summer repeated emphatically.
“The earl has entrusted me with the protection of his good lady,” Brent explained more soberly, “and I’m taking her back to Scotland.”
“This earl,” said Chichi, a gleam in her eye, “either he is a god or a great fool.”
Summer turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“Look at him,” Chichi said, talking to Summer as if she were instructing a particularly dull child. “Is he not beautiful? Who but a loco would trust his young wife to cross an ocean with a devil like this? It is madness. It is tempting the Fates.”
Summer prayed for an earthquake to swallow her.
“You’re stretching my tolerance too far,” Brent said. “You’re pert and insolent, and your extremely foolish remarks have distressed the countess.”
Chichi looked conscience-stricken. She ran around the sofa and knelt in front of Summer. “Please forgive my stupid tongue, señora. I would cut it out before I would make you cry.”
“You should have thought of that before you opened your mouth,” Brent said scornfully.
“Please don’t send me away. I’ll die if you do,” Chichi said, taking Summer’s hand and pressing it to her cheek.
Summer was recovering. “No, I won’t do that. Alonzo might send me Margarita, and I wouldn’t like her.”
Chichi revived instantly.
“But if you ever do anything like that again, I’ll throw you out,” Brent said, his tone leaving no doubt in Chichi’s mind that he would be as good as his word. “But I’ll give you a good beating first,” he added. “Have you finished the unpacking?”
“Not yet.”
“Then you’d better get it done if you don’t want to be mopping halls before noon.” Chichi rose to her feet and walked quickly toward the bedroom door, but she turned around before going through it. She regarded Brent with a speculative eye. “This earl of yours, milady, what does he look like?”
“I beg your pardon?” Summer was taken off balance by this unexpectedly forthright question.
“Why do you want to know?” Brent demanded, a note of warning in his voice.
“Me, I could not do it,” Chichi said and disappeared through the door. A muscle twitched at the corner of Summer’s mouth. She looked up at Brent, who was staring after Chichi, his glaring look a mixture of anger and reluctant admiration, and the improbability of the whole situation struck her. She suddenly began to shake with ill-contained amusement.
“That impertinent wench will be strangled to death someday,” Brent said with conviction.
“Not by you, I hope,” Summer responded. “She thinks you’re so beautiful,” she said imitating Chichi, and then she fell into a chair, laughing.
For a moment Brent looked undecided, then he, too, broke into a grin. “Are you sure you want to keep her?”
“How could I give her up? She’s certain to give me the latest gossip on half of Havana before breakfast.”
“You shouldn’t encourage her.”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop her, but at least I won’t feel like such a stranger.”
“By tomorrow morning you’ll be the best known stranger in town. You’ll probably be showered with enough invitations to last a month.”
The look of a hunted animal came to Summer’s eyes.
“You don’t have to look like the hangman’s at the door,” Brent said. “I’ll be there to make sure Havana’s young gallants don’t begin to harbor unsuitable ideas.”
“No you won’t,” Summer declared emphatically. “I may be frightened of meeting so many strangers, but I don’t want you standing over me like a jealous lover. That’s just the kind of thing that will confirm people’s suspicions.”
“I didn’t say I was going to stand over you.”
“But you will. I know you. The men on the ship hardly dared to speak to me for fear you’d murder them, and I can just imagine what you would do if some young and presentable nobleman began to pay me particular attention.”
“You can spend your time talking with the other married women.”
“Now you’re being stupid. You insisted that I play this game by the rules. Well, you’re going to have to do the same. Being admired and receiving flattering attention is part of the game. If I go to a ball, I have to dance. If people talk to me, I have to talk back.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to encourage them.”
“I won’t, but remember, you promised you’d do nothing to compromise me while we’re here.”
“I remember,” Brent said hastily.
“Then you must treat me just like an ordinary passenger. See that I get where I’m going and leave me alone.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to let me into your bedroom after your maid has gone?”
“It means you’re not even to knock on my door after I go to bed. Do you think your comings and goings would remain a secret for one day in a place like this? Do you think that Chichi, or any other maid you find for me, would keep such a juicy bit of gossip to herself?”
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
“Go to sleep like everybody else. What else were you expecting to do? Don’t tell me,” she said quickly when Brent broke into a leering grin, “I’ve heard more than enough about your women.”
“Then why are you trying to drive me right into their arms?”
“I’m not, but I don’t think there’s any power this side of heaven that can keep you out of some abandoned female’s bed,” Summer said furiously.
“If I can’t have you …”
“I don’t suppose it would be of any use to suggest that you go to bed alone. I will.”
“But you want to go to bed alone. I don’t.”
“As long as she doesn’t bite, you can’t keep your hands off any female.”
“That sounds like it might be fun. A little bit of danger adds spice,” Brent teased.
“Not for me, or any other respectable person.”
“What do you want?”
“What every woman wants: to have a husband and be respectable. No woman really wants to be a mistress. No matter how notable your lover, you’re always on the outside. Since you forced me to come here against my will, it’s only fair that you do everything you can to see that I’m not branded a harlot.”
“I would wait until everyone was asleep. No one would ever know.”
“No!” Summer insisted, stamping her foot. “You agreed to stay away from me as long as we were in Havana.”
“I didn’t,” Brent barked irritably. “I just couldn’t face the idea of your fainting dead away when some malicious fool asked you what it was like to be a pirate’s mistress. Besides, judging by the commotion you caused on my ship, I’d be spending all my time fighting off Sir Galahads striving to save you from imagined dangers.”
“If they were protecting me from you, there wouldn’t be anything imaginary about it. You’re the most dangerous creature I’ve met, and that includes that shark,” Summer declared sharply. “Your lust and your need for revenge put me in this impossible situation in the first place.”
She immediately regretted her words. The tension between them had been lessening, but it worsened again. What was done was done, and no good would be served by bringing it up all over again.
“I’d better go help Chichi if we are to get to Madame Clothilde’s on time.” Summer wanted to escape his abrassiveness. “Do you have to go back to the ship right away?”
“No. Smith will attend to it for me. I’m going with you to see that you get a decent dress for tonight. That’s the least I can do for my good friend Gowan.” He emphasized the earl’s name.
“Please don’t mention him,” Summer said. “I never wanted to marry him, but at least it was an honorable bondage.”
“And you’re blaming me?” Brent’s temper
was rising.
“Who else can I blame?”
“Why not your father, or Gowan, or both?”
“They were thoughtless and selfish, but neither of them made it impossible for me to hold my head up in decent society. They abused me, but neither stole my honor and left me defenseless.”
A knock at the door interrupted them, and Alonzo entered followed by a procession of waiters bearing trays and dishes. The antagonists were forced to bottle up their anger, but neither of them had wanted it to boil over into a full-blown argument anyway. The new understanding they had enjoyed these last few days had led them to a new appreciation of each other. But they knew there were still many unresolved questions, many raw hurts that were far from healed. And their stay in Havana was not likely to help them answer these questions or heal their wounds.
Chapter 20
Madame Clothilde’s shop was a tiny, cramped building set between two large structures that seemed intent upon squeezing their neighbor into oblivion. Nothing about the shop, inside or out, showed it to be the most expensive dressmaker’s shop outside Europe. It was badly overcrowded, jammed with piles of fabric, boxes, and every kind of accessory that could be bought. Though the furniture was of the latest style and quite expensive, it was likely to be covered by a bolt of cloth or a half-finished dress. Madame Clothilde’s great mirror was the envy of all her customers, but as often as not it was blocked from view by a table, a chair, or Madame Clothilde herself.
“Bah! This heat,” exclaimed the energetic lady as she bustled out to meet her special customers. “It’s not so bad inside. You may have a glass of lemonade, Countess.”
“I hope you plan to offer me something less likely to choke me,” said Brent.
“I haven’t forgotten what you favor, Captain Douglas.” Madame Clothilde favored him with a tiny bob of her head and a very broad smile. Summer looked suspiciously at Clothilde’s angular middle-aged form, and Brent, following her train of thought, laughed heartily.
“Not this time,” he whispered in her ear, as she settled into a chair Madame Clothilde had hastily cleared just before they’d arrived. “Too tough, though not without character.”
Summer pretended not to hear him. Then Clothilde engaged her in some leisurely small talk while the refreshments were being served. But once the trays had been taken away, the dressmaker’s smile became fixed and she prepared to do business with all the acuity of a successful shopkeeper.
“You are so lovely, Countess, it will be a pleasure to dress you. Will you be staying in Havana for a long time?” she asked hopefully.
“The countess is on her way back to Scotland and doesn’t yet know how long she’ll be staying in Havana,” Brent said. He was anxious to get down to business. “What she needs now is a suitable gown for the governor’s reception this evening.”
“But that’s out of the question.” Clothilde was astonished. “No one can provide a gown on such short notice.”
“I’m very sorry to have taken up your time….” Summer began to rise, but Brent put a hand on her shoulder and forced her back into the chair.
“The countess needs a gown for tonight,” he said in the voice he used to address his crew when they needed to be put in their place, “and it must be spectacular.”
“Surely you see that what you ask is preposterous. Even with all my girls working on it, it would take a whole day to make a simple gown; for an extravagant gown, three or four days are needed, perhaps a week.”
“Then put them all to work. I’ll pay well if I’m pleased.”
“But I have just told you it’s impossible,” Clothilde repeated, exasperated. “Even if I wanted to do it, I could not. I have other customers wanting dresses like that,” she said, snapping her fingers in the air like a conjurer. “Everyone is suddenly unable to wait for five minutes.”
“Your other customers are your business,” Brent stated undiplomatically. “I’m concerned only with the countess.”
“Your demand is without reason,” Clothilde said angrily. “Cannot the countess postpone her appearance at least a day or two?”
“The countess will be gone before the governor holds his next reception,” Brent explained. “You know how displeased he would be if we were to attend Don Ignacio’s party or General Arista’s ball without first attending his reception.”
“And I suppose you expect me to provide at least two more dresses for tomorrow?” Clothilde asked in disbelief. Brent nodded and she threw up her hands in exasperation. “You are mad. I do not conjure dresses out of the air.”
“Let’s go,” Summer begged. “It really isn’t important.”
“Clothilde could find a dress if she’d stop arguing and use her head,” Brent insisted. A hissing noise from the affronted woman prompted Summer to rush on.
“It doesn’t really matter what I wear,” she said, trying to defuse the tension. “No one will pay any attention to a stranger.”
“Look at that face and tell me she’s going to be ignored in any room,” Brent challenged, turning to Clothilde.
“The countess is very lovely.” Clothilde was thinking it would be beneficial to her if Summer first appeared in one of her gowns. With the proper wig and jewels, the young countess would be a sensation. And unless Clothilde was mistaken, everyone would be coming to her shop in the hope that she could again accomplish what she had done for Summer. Two ideas burst into her head simultaneously, and she turned them around carefully while Summer and Brent argued in half-whispers.
“I think I may have found a way out of your dilemma,” Madame Clothilde finally declared, interrupting a conversation she’d never heard. She hurried away and came back minutes later carrying a huge box. “I’d almost forgotten about this gown. It was ordered some time ago by a lady who couldn’t pay for it, and no one else has had the right figure for it.” When she opened the box, Summer drew in her breath.
“The young lady was about your size, Countess. If it’s close enough, maybe I can have the alterations finished by this evening.”
Summer wasn’t listening. She was spellbound for before her was the most beautiful gown she had ever seen. It was made of silk of the deepest gold, and on its soft white underdress lilies were embroidered in gold thread.
“If you’ll come with me, milady, we can see how it fits,” the dressmaker said.
Twenty minutes later the door the two women had gone through opened and out stepped a vision that nearly took Brent’s breath away. The gown was even more beautiful than he had imagined, but Clothilde had deftly touched up Summer’s face and provided her with an enormous jewel-covered wig.
“There is almost nothing to do but take in the waist, make a tuck or two, and it might have been made for her. What do you think?” Clothilde asked Brent, but the question was superfluous. His reaction was written on his face.
Summer looked expectantly at him. She knew she had never looked lovelier, but she also knew it wouldn’t mean a thing unless he thought so. She needed to hear it from his own lips.
Brent’s eyes narrowed, and Summer could see his jaw begin to work. She waited nervously, not knowing him well enough to realize he was attempting to disguise his surging passion from Clothilde’s prying eyes. Even after all these weeks, Summer’s extraordinary beauty jolted him, but it wasn’t that which held him immobile. Through the tangle of powerful and confusing emotions warring within him came the recurrent refrain: I must make her my own. No matter how, she must be mine.
“I think it’ll do just fine,” he said absently, “but she can’t wear that wig.”
“Of course,” Clothilde agreed. “I have many more for her to choose from. This one is just for the effect.”
“She doesn’t need any effects.”
Clothilde studied Summer carefully. “Nothing can compete with her complexion and her marvelous figure.” She turned to Summer, “You will meet many women tonight whose jealousy will make them cruel, and I can understand them. It is unfair that you should have so much beauty and th
e rest of us so little.”
Summer had never thought of herself as a beauty, but it gave her a twinge of pleasure to hear such flattery directed at her. She was even more delighted by Brent’s admiration. She would willingly face a roomful of scowling grandees if he would always look at her with that ravenous expression in his eyes.
“I’ll send the gown to the hotel the moment it is finished,” Clothilde recalled Brent to his surroundings.
“You’d better send one of your girls along, too,” he said. “The countess didn’t bring her maid, and the girl the hotel provided seems inexperienced and undependable.”
“I have just the girl for you, milady.” Clothilde smiled. “Jeanne is quite mannerly, and expert in preparing a lady for a ball.”
“What about the other gowns?” Brent asked.
“I’ve been thinking about them.” Clothilde resumed her businesslike manner. “And I think I have found the answer.”
“I knew you would as soon as you stopped going on about how impossible everything was,” Brent said complacently. “You’re a resourceful old bird.” Clothilde couldn’t decide whether she was more pleased by the compliment to her intelligence or more irritated by his insufferable manner. She thought of the profit she was about to make and decided that it didn’t matter.
“I just happen to have a large number of gowns on hand because I’m preparing a trousseau. It will not be required for some time yet, so I will have a chance to replace any gowns the countess is able to use.”
“But I don’t look at all Spanish,” Summer protested.
“The young lady in question was educated in Europe and has demanded all of the most fashionable gowns. She will look like a chicken dressed in the feathers of a bird of paradise. Quite sad, really.” Clothilde shuddered. “It will be a relief to know that the countess will wear my creations. They are very lovely, really some of my best work.”
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