Fires of Delight by Vanessa Royall Page A

here quite often, God rest his soul.”
    “You know?”
    Royce nodded. “When we learned of his capture, we held a conference and decided to send Penrod over to the fortress in priestly disguise. I understand he suffered a great deal?”
    “It was terrible. Oakley did not spare him. But I don’t believe he revealed anything about the coming attack on Yorktown.”
    “Shh!” Royce cautioned. “One never knows where there are ears. We will even it with Oakley in due time. And you? Did he harm you?”
    “He would have, had you not rescued me. Did you know I was in the fortress?”
    “Not for certain. But I had a feeling. It was the strangest thing, as if you were speaking to my mind.”
    “I know.” Selena smiled. What she had learned in the Orient regarding the mystical bonds between true lovers was indeed valid, and she was glad.
    “Anyway, you saved yourself,” Royce was saying. “I had precious little to do with it.”
    “Modesty sits strangely upon you, my dear,” Selena teased. “What are we going to do now?”
    “We’ll remain here in hiding until late tomorrow night. Oakley will expect us to make a run for it immediately. Let us wait until he has lowered his guard a bit. I ordered the Selena to sail around Long Island to Newport. We’ll ferry across to Connecticut and make our way up the coast. And then we’re off to the Caribbean.”
    Selena, who had been rejoicing over the whole day they would spend together, and the fields of time that stretched out after that, was puzzled.
    “The Caribbean?”
    “Yes. It’s rather a first stop. I have some plans.”
    He said no more, turning from her and walking to the cupboard. Opening it, he took out a bottle of wine, two glasses, a loaf of bread, and a large wedge of cheddar. Then from a compartment at the bottom, he also withdrew a fluffy towel.
    The excitement of being with him again had momentarily put everything else out of Selena’s mind, but the smell of bread, thesight of cheese, stirred the juices of appetite. She was famished. She was also bedraggled and suddenly aware of how she must look, standing there barelegged and draped in that purloined officer’s uniform. Well, he would certainly tell her of his plans later. Curiosity could wait.
    “Hand me the towel please, darling? Is there water and soap? Is there anything for me to wear?”
    Royce set the wine and the food on the table. He smiled.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t know exactly what you’d require. But Penrod will be coming by tomorrow. I’m sure we can ask him to get some clothes for you.
    “It may be,” he added, “that you won’t need any until then.”
    “I hope not,” replied Selena, meeting his eyes.
    He uncorked the wine, sliced bread and cheese. Selena washed herself, feeling better every moment, and even succeeded in putting her hair back into a semblance of order, using Royce’s own pearl-handled comb, into which—as into all of his personal effects—was set a small silver image of a wolf’s head. That noble animal, so often misunderstood and reviled, was his symbol. More too. In a manner at once vague yet irrefutably clear, the wolf—which roams and hunts, which attacks only when provoked, which mates for life, and which will sacrifice itself for the safety of its own—was Royce Campbell’s brother, mirror-image, empath. Once aboard his previous ship, the Highlander , he had held her in his arms in the hammock in his captain’s quarters and told her what he had had to do to become a man in the eyes of the wild Highlands clan of which he was a part.
    She had recently suffered the loss of her father, and the hidden meanings of life, if any, perplexed her, so first Royce had asked, “You even believe in God, don’t you?”
    “Sometimes.”
    “Well, that’s all right,” Royce said, giving her a lazy, indulgent kiss. “But I met him, and there are no longer any obligations attendant upon a vow in his name.”
    “What do you mean? You could not have