by Amanda Quick
“I’ll be cautious.” Olympia took a hasty sip of hot tea to fortify herself. When she was finished, she set the cup down and started determinedly for the door.
“One more thing afore I forget,” Mrs. Bird called after her. “Squire Pettigrew sent a message around earlier sayin’ he’s back from London. He’ll be callin’ this afternoon. No doubt wants to help ye out with that last shipment of goods.”
Olympia paused in the doorway. “Oh, dear. I forgot to notify him that I will no longer need his assistance in such matters.”
Mrs. Bird frowned. “Why ever not?”
“Mr. Chillhurst has said he will handle those sorts of annoying little details for me.”
Mrs. Bird’s expression went from a disapproving frown to a look of genuine alarm. “Here now, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what it sounds like, Mrs. Bird. Mr. Chillhurst has kindly offered to take charge of disposing of Uncle Artemis’s latest shipment.”
“Ain’t sure I like the sound of that offer. What if Chillhurst makes off with the goods?”
“Rubbish. If he had been going to do that, he would never have brought them to us in the first place. He would have absconded with them upon his arrival in Weymouth.”
“Well, mayhap he intends to cheat ye, then,” Mrs. Bird warned. “And how would ye know if he did? Ye’d only have his word that he got the best price he could for the lot. I told ye, the man looks like a pirate. Best have Squire Pettigrew handle things, just as he has in the past.”
Olympia lost her patience. “I’m quite certain we can trust Mr. Chillhurst. Uncle Artemis did.” She sailed through the door before Mrs. Bird could respond.
Out in the hall, Olympia picked up the skirts of her ankle-length printed muslin gown and went quickly up the stairs.
She paused on the landing and listened. It was quiet even up here.
She tiptoed down the hall to the schoolroom and put her ear to the door. The deep-sea rumble of Jared’s voice filtered softly through the heavy wooden panels.
“It was an ill-conceived scheme from the start,” Jared said. “But Captain Jack was prone to wild notions. The predilection later proved to be an unfortunate family trait.”
“Does that mean there were other pirates in Captain Jack’s family?” Ethan asked eagerly.
“Captain Jack preferred to be called a buccaneer,” Jared said sternly. “And while I do not believe that there were any more in the clan, I fear there were several descendents suspected of engaging in the free-trade.”
“What’s the free-trade?” Hugh demanded.
“Smuggling,” Jared explained dryly. “Captain Jack’s family seat was on the Isle of Flame. It’s an exceedingly beautiful place but very remote. Robert, show us where the Isle of Flame is located.”
“Here,” Robert said enthusiastically. “Off the Devon coast. See? There’s a tiny dot right there.”
“Very good, Robert.” Jared said. “As you will see, the isle is an excellent site for smuggling. Convenient enough to the coasts of France and Spain, yet quite remote from the authorities. The preventive service is seldom seen in the vicinity and the local inhabitants may be counted upon not to talk to outsiders.”
“Tell us about the smugglers,” Ethan said.
“No, I want to hear about Captain Jack’s plan to cross the Isthmus of Panama first,” Robert said.
“Yes, tell us about the buccaneers’ scheme to capture a Spanish galleon, Mr. Chillhurst,” Hugh said eagerly. “You can tell us about the smugglers tomorrow.”
“Very well,” Jared agreed. “But first you should know not only how idiotic the notion was, but also how dangerous. The Isthmus of Panama is extremely treacherous terrain. It is densely forested and filled with many strange and deadly creatures. Many men have died trying to reach the sea on the other side.”
“Why did Captain Jack and his crew want to cross the isthmus in the first place?” Ethan asked. “Why didn’t they stay in the West Indies?”
“Gold,” Jared said succinctly. “Captain Jack had a partner at the time. They had heard tales of the legendary treasure that Spain was routinely transporting from its colonies in America. The two buccaneers decided to see if they could slip across the Isthmus of Panama with a band of men, capture a Spanish ship or two, and get rich immediately.”
“Bloody hell,” Robert whispered in awe. “What an exciting venture. I wish I could have been with Captain Jack when he made the trip.”
Olympia could stand it no longer. The words legendary treasure and buccaneers dazzled her. She was as enthralled as her nephews by Jared’s tale. She opened the door very quietly and slipped stealthily into the room.
Ethan, Hugh, and Robert were grouped around the large globe that stood near the window. They did not look up as Olympia crept into the schoolroom. Their entire attention was riveted on the globe.
Jared was with them. He had one hand on the globe. In his other hand he gripped his dagger. The point of the blade rested in the region of the West Indies.
Olympia frowned at the sight of the dagger. She had not noticed it during the past two days. Jared no longer wore it strapped to his thigh as he had when he arrived. She had presumed he had packed it away in one of his trunks. But this morning he had obviously brought it into the classroom and there was no doubt but that he held the old blade with a certain casual ease.
He looks altogether dangerous, as usual, Olympia thought as she studied his grim features in the morning light. If one did not know him better, one might be rather wary. But she was getting to know him very well indeed because he had taken to joining her in the library after dinner in the evenings.
Jared had immediately established a pleasant habit of sharing a glass of brandy with her before retiring to the old gamekeeper’s cottage. Last night he had read for a while and then talked at some length about his travels. Olympia had hung on every word.
“Are all tutors as widely traveled as yourself, sir?” she had asked.
Jared had given her an unreadable look. “Ah, no. I have been rather fortunate in that regard. I have worked for some people whose business ventures frequently took them abroad. My employers chose to travel with their families.”
Olympia nodded sagely. “Naturally they would wish their children’s tutor to accompany them on an extended journey. What a wonderful career you selected for yourself.”
“It it only lately that I have come to fully appreciate it.” Jared rose from his chair, picked up the brandy decanter, and poured more of the amber liquid into her glass. “I see you have a rather nice chart depicting the South Seas on your wall.”
“I have done a great deal of research on legends that originate in that part of the world.” What with the combined effects of the fire and the brandy, Olympia was feeling pleasantly warm and quite relaxed. A woman of the world conversing with a man of the world, she thought with satisfaction.
Jared poured a bit more brandy into his own glass and replaced the decanter on the table. “One of my more interesting trips took me to a number of islands in that region,” he said thoughtfully. He sank back into the depths of his chair.
“Really?” Olympia gazed at him in wonder. “That must have been thrilling.”
“Oh, it was.” Jared touched his fingertips together. “There are a variety of interesting legends from that part of the world, as you are no doubt well aware. One in particular rather intrigued me.”
“I should love to hear about it,” Olympia whispered. The library seemed to be filled with a dreamlike quality, as if the entire room, complete with Jared and herself inside, had been transported to another place and another time.
“It has to do with a pair of lovers who were not allowed to marry because the young woman’s father was opposed to the match.”
Olympia took another sip of brandy. “How very sad. What became of the lovers?”
“Their passion was such that they were determined to be together,” Jared said. “So they arranged to meet secretly at night on t
he beach of a hidden cove.”
“I suppose they talked until dawn.” Olympia said wistfully. “No doubt they whispered words of poetry to each other. Confided their most intimate secrets. Dreamed of a future together.”
Jared looked at her. “Actually, they spent the time making passionate love.”
Olympia blinked. “On a beach?”
“Yes.”
Olympia cleared her throat. “But wouldn’t that have been somewhat uncomfortable? I mean what with the sand and all?”
Jared smiled slightly. “What is a little sand to a pair of lovers who are desperate for each other?”
“Yes, of course,” Olympia said hastily. She hoped she had not sounded too terribly naive.
“And besides, this was a very special beach. It was sacred to a certain island deity who is said to have taken pity on the lovers.”
Olympia was still not entirely convinced that making love in the sand was a particularly sound notion, but she certainly did not intend to argue the matter. “Do go on, sir. Tell me the rest of the legend.”
“One night the lovers were discovered by the woman’s irate father. He killed the young man.”
“How terrible. What happened?”
“The young woman was grief-stricken, naturally. She waded out into the sea and disappeared. The deity in charge of the beach was outraged. He punished the young woman’s father by turning all the sand on the beach into pearls.”
“That was a punishment?” Olympia asked, startled.
“Yes.” Jared smiled coolly. “The man was so excited about the discovery of the pearl beach that he went home to rouse the rest of his family. But the deity cast a magic spell over the cove, making it invisible to all those who searched for it.”
“So this pearl beach was never found?”
Jared shook his head. “To this day the islanders still talk of it. Many have searched for it. But no one has ever seen it. It’s said that it can only be discovered by a pair of lovers whose passion is as great as the two who used to meet there and make love in the moonlight.”
Olympia sighed. “Just imagine risking all for love, Mr. Chillhurst.”
“I have begun to believe that a great passion is like a great legend,” Jared said quietly. “It is worth any risk.”
A shiver coursed through Olympia. She felt first hot and then cold. “You are no doubt correct, sir. In any case, I thank you for the tale. I have never heard it and it is a lovely legend.”
Jared looked deeply into her eyes. Something dark and disturbing moved in his own gaze. “Yes,” he said softly. “Quite lovely.”
In that moment Olympia could almost believe that he was speaking of her, not the legend. A sense of excitement stirred deep within her. It was similar to the thrill she got when she pursued a legend, but it was far more powerful. It left her feeling oddly shaken, a little giddy.
“Mr. Chillhurst … ?”
Jared removed his watch from his pocket. “I see it is very late,” he said with obvious regret. “It is time I went back to my cottage. Perhaps tomorrow night I shall have an opportunity to describe a rather unusual custom that was practiced by the inhabitants of another South Seas island which I chanced to visit.”
“I should like that very much,” Olympia breathed.
“Good night, Miss Wingfield. I shall see you at breakfast.”
“Good night, Mr. Chillhurst.”
A shimmering sense of longing had welled up within Olympia as she accompanied Jared to the front door. She had stood watching as he walked off into the night and became one with it.
And then she had gone to bed and dreamed of being kissed by Jared on a beach scattered with pearls.
Now, in the bright light of day, she listened to him tell tales to her nephews and realized that Jared had very quickly become an important part of her small household. She was learning a great deal about this man who had the face of a pirate and she was finding that she liked him very much. Too much perhaps, she thought.
She must not forget that someday Jared would leave and she would again be alone with her library and no other adult companion with whom she could share the intellectual pleasures it contained.
At that moment Jared glanced up and saw her standing just inside the schoolroom. The corner of his mouth curved faintly.
“Good morning, Miss Wingfield. Was there something you wanted?”
“No, no,” Olympia said quickly. “Please carry on. I merely wished to observe the lesson.”
“By all means.” Jared indicated the globe. “We are studying geography this morning.”
“So I see.” Olympia took a step closer.
Ethan grinned. “We are learning all about the West Indies, Aunt Olympia.”
“And about a pirate named Captain Jack,” Robert added.
Jared cleared his throat slightly. “It should be noted that Captain Jack was a buccaneer, not a pirate.”
“What’s the difference?” Hugh demanded.
“Very little, in point of fact,” Jared said dryly. “But some people are quite insistent upon the distinction. Buccaneers sailed with a commission. In theory they were authorized by the crown or by local authorities in the West Indies to attack enemy ships. But it got rather complicated at times. Why was that, do you suppose, Robert?”
Robert straightened his shoulders. “Because so many different countries have colonies in the West Indies, I expect, sir.”
“Precisely.” Jared smiled approvingly. “Back in Captain Jack’s time there were English, French, Dutch, and Spanish vessels in the region.”
“And the buccaneers were not supposed to attack the ships and towns of their home countries, I’ll wager,” Ethan said. He frowned. “That would mean the English would have sailed against the French and the Spanish and the Dutch. The French would have attacked the English and the Spanish and the Dutch.”
“It does sound rather complicated,” Olympia said. She abandoned any pretense of being an interested observer of Jared’s instructional methods. She hurried across the room to join her nephews. “What was this about a venture across the Isthmus of Panama in search of treasure?”
Jared’s smile was slow and mysterious. “Would you care to join us while I tell the tale, Miss Wingfield?”
“Yes, indeed,” Olympia said. She smiled gratefully at Jared. “I should like that very much. I am quite interested in such tales.”
“I understand,” Jared said softly. “Come a little closer, Miss Wingfield. I would not want you to miss a single thing.”
Squire Pettigrew arrived at three o’clock that afternoon. Olympia was back in the library when she heard the clatter of the gig’s wheels in the drive. She rose from the desk and went to the window to watch Pettigrew alight from his carriage.
Pettigrew was a heavily built man in his late forties. At one time he had been accounted a handsome fellow and he continued to act as if every female in the neighborhood still found him irresistible. Olympia did not understand what anyone had ever seen in the squire.
The truth was, Pettigrew could be a dreadful bore although Olympia was much too polite to say so. She knew that she was probably not a very good authority on the subject. After all, she found the majority of the males in Upper Tudway extremely dull and uninspiring. Their pursuits and interests rarely coincided with hers and men did tend to lecture so to females. Pettigrew was no exception. As far as Olympia could ascertain, his chief passions consisted of hounds, hunting, and farming.
Nevertheless, she knew very well that she was indebted to him for handling her uncle’s periodic shipments and she was truly grateful for everything Pettigrew had done for her.
The library door opened just as Olympia sat down again. Pettigrew swaggered into the room. The strong scent of the eau de cologne he favored wafted ahead of him.
Pettigrew traveled quite frequently to London and took advantage of the opportunity to stay abreast of current fashion. This afternoon he was attired in a pair of trousers that were trimmed with an array of small pl
eats. His frock coat was extremely snug and cropped at the waist. The back of the coat fell in two long tails that reached his knees. Beneath it he wore an elaborately pleated shirt. His cravat was so high and rigid that Olympia suspected it was held in place with some sort of stiffener.
“Good afternoon, Miss Wingfield.” Pettigrew gave her what was undoubtedly meant to be a charming smile as he walked toward the desk. “You’re looking very fine today.”
“Thank you, sir. Please sit down. I have some interesting news for you.”
“Do you indeed?” Pettigrew swept the long tails of his coat aside with a practiced motion of his hand and sat down. “I suspect you are about to tell me of your uncle’s latest shipment of goods. Never fear, my dear, I have already received word of it and stand ready to assist you, as always.”
“That is very kind of you, sir, but the good news is that I will no longer require your services for such matters.”
Pettigrew blinked rapidly several times as if he had a speck in his eye and then he went very still. “I beg your pardon?”
Olympia smiled warmly. “You have been extremely helpful, sir, and I am most grateful to you, but I cannot impose upon you any longer.”
Pettigrew frowned. “Now see here, Miss Wingfield, I do not consider it an imposition to assist you in disposing of those shipments. Indeed, I feel it is my duty to aid you. I would be remiss in my obligations as a friend and neighbor were I to allow you to fall into the hands of the sort of unscrupulous scoundrels who would not hesitate to take advantage of an innocent such as yourself.”
“You need not fear for Miss Wingfield,” Jared said very quietly from the doorway. “She is in good hands.”
“What the devil?” Pettigrew turned swiftly to face the door. He stared at Jared. “Who are you, sir? What are you talking about?”
“I’m Chillhurst.”
Olympia sensed a sudden tension in the air between the two men. She hastened to diffuse it by making introductions. “Mr. Chillhurst is my nephews’ new tutor. He has only been with us for a few days but already he has done wonders. The boys have been studying geography all morning and I’ll wager they now know more about the West Indies than any other boy in Upper Tudway. Mr. Chillhurst, allow me to present Squire Pettigrew.”