Care and Feeding of Pirates (6 page)

Christopher's gaze was fixed on her, his eyes
holding a mixture of humor and impatience.

She wondered what the devil had been the four
gentlemen's conversation before she'd arrived. The very idea that
Christopher and Mr. Templeton had met at all gave her palpitations.
What on earth had they discussed? Had Christopher said, "Good
evening, I'm Honoria's husband. I believe you are engaged to
her?"

No, from the look of things, Christopher had
kept silent, at least to Mr. Templeton. What Grayson and Mr.
Henderson knew, she couldn't tell.

"Mrs. Ardmore," Grayson was saying to Diana.
"May I present Christopher Raine? Raine, Diana Ardmore. She married
my good friend, James."

Good friend, my foot,
Honoria thought
distractedly. The enmity between Grayson and James had been
legendary.

Christopher took Diana's hand and lifted it
to his lips. Neither his look nor Diana's steady gaze betrayed that
they'd already met.

"And Honoria Ardmore, James's sister."

Christopher turned to Honoria. His hand,
ungloved, closed over hers.

The look he gave her was possessive. He was
obviously not going to step aside and let her engagement to Mr.
Templeton stand. The fireworks would begin soon, it was just a
matter of time.

"We've met," Christopher said dryly.

"Ah, yes," Mr. Templeton said. "So you told
me last night."

Last night?
Honoria glared at
Christopher and snatched her hand from his grasp. "Mr. Raine and I
are acquainted, yes."

"More than acquainted," Christopher said.

Honoria's heart beat swiftly and lights spun
before her eyes. He could not announce it here, could he? Not now.
She was not ready. She gave Christopher a hard look, wishing she
could send her thoughts straight into his brain.

Christopher continued, "I am an old friend of
her brother's."

Honoria's panic shifted to anger. Was this
what he would do all night--begin the startling announcement and
then back off at the last moment? Light the fuse, then stamp it out
before it reached the bomb? From the amused glint in his eyes,
yes.

She wished Mr. Templeton wore a real cutlass
rather than a papier mache one. She'd borrow it, back Christopher
into a corner, and demand to know what he thought he was doing.

Christopher was calm, that was one thing. But
it was the calm of the eye of a hurricane. The winds could shift at
any moment and bear down on her with devastating force.

Grayson said to Diana, "Alexandra is asking
for you, Mrs. Ardmore. She's in the ballroom. The dancing is about
to commence."

Diana made some polite answer that Honoria
missed, removed her fingers from Honoria's arm, and glided
away.

Honoria felt suddenly bereft. Diana's grip
had propped her up--she would fall any second now.

"Excellent." Mr. Templeton offered his arm to
Honoria. "I claim the honor of the first dance, Miss Ardmore. But I
am generous. I will give each of you fellows a turn."

Mr. Henderson, who could write etiquette
books if he chose, bowed and said, "I would be most honored to join
Miss Ardmore in the cotillion."

"I'll fetch you for a country dance," Grayson
promised. Honoria tried not to flinch. Grayson was a good dancer,
but a most exuberant partner.

Attention turned to Christopher. It would be
impolite in the extreme for him not to offer a dance as well, but
Honoria knew he didn't care two pins for what was polite.

Just as well. She'd not be able to plead him
to silence on the dance floor, and if he touched her . . .

She knew what would happen the next time he
touched her. Even the brief brush through her glove had stirred the
troublesome heat in her body, the same heat that had made her lie
awake all night.

In the dark silence of her bedchamber, she'd
relived the kiss he'd given her, the weight of his body against
hers, the knowledge that he only had to part her dressing gown and
slide his hand inside to find her ready for him. Over all this lay
the exciting fact that he was still alive and had come back for
her.

As soon as Christopher took her hand to lead
her to the dance floor, she'd melt. He'd have to scoop her into his
arms and carry her off, and she would love it.

She looked at him with the others and
struggled to keep from biting her lip while the silence stretched
too long.

"I don't dance," Christopher said.

Disappointment wove dark fingers around her
heart.
Relief. That's what I should feel--relief. I won't make a
fool of myself over him.

"A pity," Mr. Templeton said. He looked
slightly pleased that he possessed a skill that such a handsome,
well-fitted man lacked. "My mother, now, she always likes a caper.
Ask her, and she'll teach you a few steps."

Christopher's eyes glittered with mischief.
Honoria glared at him.
Don't you dare.

Christopher almost smiled. "I'll think on
it."

His gaze remained fixed on Honoria, until she
felt a scream building up inside. It would come out any moment,
embarrassing her in front of Alexandra and all her guests.

Then Mr. Templeton was tugging her away,
leading her to the safety of the ballroom as the music began.
Honoria felt Christopher's gaze burning on her back all the
way.

*** *** ***

Christopher had a reputation for patience.
He'd been known to lie in wait for weeks for a prize, if it was
worth it. He'd planned for nearly a year before taking the
Rosa
Bonita.
He and his crew had executed every piece of that plan
as though it had been one of the stately dances going on in
Alexandra's ballroom, and they'd gotten away with it.

He also had the reputation for being slow to
anger, but those who did manage to anger Christopher never forgot
the experience, if they lived through it. A slow match, Manda
called him. He burned long, but when the gunpowder was reached,
nothing equaled the explosion.

Christopher was rapidly approaching the end
of his slow match. The delay in finding Manda troubled him, and now
his dear sweet Honoria expected him to tamely release her to marry
another man. Christopher found himself liking Templeton, but that
did not mean he'd step aside and give him his wife.

He'd let Honoria enjoy herself with her
friends this night, and then he would force the issue. He had
plenty to do without waiting for Honoria to make her choice.

Christopher wandered into the ballroom. Most
of the guests were costumed--in the garb of Romany, kings and
queens of old, jesters, shepherdesses, Turks.

He liked Honoria's costume, plain white
muslin hanging to the floor in a straight line from her shoulders.
Her body moved enticingly under the draperies as she danced with
Templeton, letting Christopher know she was unfettered beneath.
Clasps at her shoulders held the costume in place, and he enjoyed
thinking about what would happen if he loosened one of those
clasps.

He needed to persuade her quickly, or else
he'd throw her over his shoulder and carry her somewhere to rip off
her clothes. Preferably on board his ship, which was nearly ready
to sail. And then, off to find Manda and his legacy.

As he circled the ballroom, Christopher
noticed himself being watched. Not in a sinister way--the gentlemen
studied him in curiosity and the ladies sent him promising smiles.
By the time Christopher reached the other end of the ballroom, he'd
had more unspoken propositions than a gigolo in a ladies' bathing
house.

"They are hoping you will take your clothes
off," Diana Ardmore said, stopping beside him.

Christopher nearly spilled his whiskey. "What
the devil for?"

"It is why Alexandra's parties are so
popular," Mrs. Ardmore said calmly. "The chance of glimpsing a
naked pirate."

Christopher had heard the tale of Alexandra's
famous pirate-infested soiree. It had been, and still was, Finley
said, the talk of the Town. He shook his head. "The people of
London need more to do."

"Can you blame them? You are a handsome
specimen, Mr. Raine."

Mrs. Ardmore was being matter-of-fact, not
flirtatious. Still, the other ladies in the room watched enviously
as Diana stood tete-a-tete with him. The only lady who seemed
oblivious to it all was Honoria.

Honoria danced with Henderson now in a
stately dance called the cotillion. They were well matched, the
aristocratic-looking gentleman and the Southern lady.

"Give her time," Diana said, following his
gaze. "You startled her. She's confused."

"And angry," Christopher said, unable to take
his eyes off her. Honoria held her head proudly, her cheeks
flushed, her every movement a symphony of grace. "No one can be
angry like Honoria."

"I cannot blame her. You men simply sweep in
and decide we should be yours. You barely give us time to grow used
to you before you carry us off. James was the same."

Christopher understood why Ardmore had swept
this woman away. It wasn't simply her beauty, he saw, but her core
of steel and good common sense. She'd have to have both, to
withstand Ardmore.

Honoria possessed that same steel, as well as
the Ardmore trait of stubbornness.

Christopher watched his wife parade through
the steps of the cotillion. "It might have been abrupt for her," he
said. "But not for me."

In the last four years, there had been many
nights he thought he'd not live to see the dawn, let alone find
this side of the world again. Thoughts of Honoria had kept him from
despair.

Even in the direst of nights, Christopher had
warmed himself thinking of her green eyes that could darken with
passion, her lips parting so readily beneath his. He'd worked and
fought and lived with one thought in his mind--holding Honoria in
his arms again.

"I have no doubt you care for her," Diana was
saying. "You don't bother to hide it. But you must give her
time."

"Time is what I have in short supply, Mrs.
Ardmore. I have things to do and no time to wait for Honoria to
sort out her feelings."

"Perhaps you should run your errands,
whatever they are, and return for her later."

Christopher studied Diana's guileless eyes
and chose his words with care. She might be Honoria's friend, but
she was married to James Ardmore, and Christopher couldn't trust
her not to repeat every word to her husband. "And give her a chance
to marry Temple-toes? Not bloody likely. I need her to choose, and
choose soon."

"You say
choose
, Mr. Raine, but there
is only one choice you want her to make."

Christopher let himself smile. "Of course.
She's a beautiful woman, and I want her."

Diana rested her tapered-fingered hand on his
arm. "I believe I understand. But if you merely seek a companion,
I'm sure there are plenty of women who would be happy to oblige
you. You could leave Honoria alone."

"Not the point. I'll tell you bluntly that
I've never in my life needed to work hard for female companionship.
I'll also tell you that I've never known a woman like Honoria. She
was worth coming back from the dead for."

"She won't tamely run to you when you call,"
Diana said. "But I believe you are liking the challenge."

"It adds flavor." Christopher watched Honoria
again, her black curls moving as she turned in the dance. Those
tightly woven curls would come down his hands, bathing his body in
warm silk. "I intend to win her, Mrs. Ardmore," he said. "I'd be
obliged if you didn't stand too much in the way."

Diana gave him a quiet look. "Honoria is my
sister now, as well as my friend. I want only her happiness."

"If you want her to be happy, then make sure
she doesn't marry Templeton."

They both turned to study Mr. Templeton, who
was chatting animatedly with his mother on the other side of the
room and flourishing his false sword.

After a moment of watching, Diana said. "I
believe you are right. Though I wish I knew more about you."

"Ask your husband. But wait until Honoria and
I are far away before you do."

Diana studied him a long time, then she gave
him a nod. Christopher felt a small taste of triumph. An ally was a
useful thing to have.

Templeton approached them then and asked
Christopher if he'd show him the proper way to use a pirate sword.
Christopher's mood had lightened enough that he led the man out of
the ballroom, fetched a real sword from Finley, and took Templeton
down to the garden.

*** *** ***

Honoria watched with direst forebodings as
Mr. Templeton departed the ballroom with Christopher. She turned
her head to try to keep them in view, not easy with the complicated
patterns of the cotillion. She craned her head this way and that
and missed several steps, earning a puzzled frown from Mr.
Henderson.

When the dance ended, Mr. Henderson led
Honoria back to her chair and fetched her an ice, which she did not
want. She was about to push the ice on Mrs. Templeton and rush
after Christopher, but Grayson turned up to claim his country
dance.

When Honoria tried to beg off, he said, "Oh
no you don't," and towed her without mercy to the middle of the
floor.

The former pirate danced with enthusiasm and
exuberance. He whirled Honoria with such force she feared she'd fly
across the room if he let her go. But Grayson also moved with feral
grace, and other ladies cast her looks of envy.

When the dance finished, Honoria, breathless,
sought the balcony, needing air and solitude. Grayson cheerfully
let her go and went in search of his wife.

The balcony was dark and relatively empty.
Honoria rested her hands on the balustrade, happy for the silence
and the coolness on her aching brow.

She would stand here a moment, then scour the
house for Christopher and Mr. Templeton. If Christopher had
revealed the secret of their marriage, she would . . . well, she
would speak to him quite sharply.