dashing cavaliers-and some would consider it great sport to pay an impudent incognito call on Tortuga and dine in the home of the Lord Admiral of the Buccaneers!
Idly, she tried him on it, wondering if she could catch him out. As he bit into his lobster, she asked in Spanish, "Are you staying here long?"
Perhaps it was his concentration on the lobster, perhaps the dazzling effect this beautiful woman was having on him, but Raymond du Monde, before he could think, answered in Spanish, "Until tomorrow only."
He looked up as the words left his mouth and saw her smiling at him. Like the adventurer he was, he came instantly alert-and mounted his attack. "You speak amazingly good Spanish," he complimented her.
"So," she said dryly, "do you, monsieur-or should I say senor?"
The words hung on the empty air, pervading the sudden silence as Gilly, who had just come into the room, carrying a big platter of beaten biscuits, paused, round-eyed, and stared at Monsieur du Monde, whom the lady of the house had just indirectly accused of being Spanish.
But the dinner guest proved equal to the occasion. He flashed a smile at his hostess.
"One picks up a smattering of all languages at New Providence," he admitted engagingly. "Your own proficiency, I would imagine, came from Tortuga?"
Behind him Gilly gasped. New Providence had no buccaneer port like Port Royal, with a royal governor and a bustling trading center-only a pirate port with lean-to shacks set up on the sand. Desperate tales were told of New Providence. And Gilly knew they were all too true-she had come here from New Providence.
Carolina was still smiling but her eyes narrowed. His answer had satisfied her, for it suited the man who spoke. He could be a pirate-and perhaps a renegade Spaniard to boot. Oddly she found herself regretting that he was not a buccaneer, for buccaneers were privateers really, patriotic men who would never attack ships of their own flag or those of their country's friends. Buccaneers fought only Spain.
"So you are from New Providence?" she murmured. "Recently, I mean?" He shrugged an affirmation. "One must be from somewhere, I suppose." "I have often wondered about the place. What is it like there?"
She was challenging him, he thought. There was a good mind behind that winsome smile, those flashing silver eyes. "It is a hellhole," he said bluntly. "There are words that would describe the place in French-but they are not for a lady's ears."
"That bad?" she mocked him.
"Worse," he said with feeling, for he had heard evil stories about New Providence-stories that would truly offend a lady's ears.
"Still I am told there are some colorful people there." She sensed his withdrawal but refused to let go of the subject. "Rouge, for example?"
He guessed she was testing him, and under his lace collar he began to sweat. Who could guess what this elegant lady might know of New Providence or its denizens?
But Rouge, at least he had heard of. She was famous far and wide. "What do you wish to know of her?" he asked cautiously.
Gilly had set down the platter of biscuits and now she paused in the door and watched him brightly. "Oh, I don't know," Carolina said vaguely. "What she is like, I suppose. Accounts of her differ so." If that was true, he had a chance! "An Amazon,"
he declared flatly.
"I am told she wields a cutlass like a man."
"Not so well," he said indifferently. "She has scars where"-he grinned-"they don't show. Shall I tell you about them?" His face lit up with a wicked smile. He would fling back the elegant lady's challenge!
"Never mind," said Carolina hastily. "I just wondered-is she very beautiful? I have heard rumors."
"She does not hold a candle to your loveliness," he declared gallantly. "In fact, I found Rouge quite plain!"
With a satisfied expression, Gilly closed the door and retired into the pantry.
"Come now, I did not ask for a comparison!" laughed Carolina, tossing her head beneath that hot gaze. "But I have been told that
Idly, she tried him on it, wondering if she could catch him out. As he bit into his lobster, she asked in Spanish, "Are you staying here long?"
Perhaps it was his concentration on the lobster, perhaps the dazzling effect this beautiful woman was having on him, but Raymond du Monde, before he could think, answered in Spanish, "Until tomorrow only."
He looked up as the words left his mouth and saw her smiling at him. Like the adventurer he was, he came instantly alert-and mounted his attack. "You speak amazingly good Spanish," he complimented her.
"So," she said dryly, "do you, monsieur-or should I say senor?"
The words hung on the empty air, pervading the sudden silence as Gilly, who had just come into the room, carrying a big platter of beaten biscuits, paused, round-eyed, and stared at Monsieur du Monde, whom the lady of the house had just indirectly accused of being Spanish.
But the dinner guest proved equal to the occasion. He flashed a smile at his hostess.
"One picks up a smattering of all languages at New Providence," he admitted engagingly. "Your own proficiency, I would imagine, came from Tortuga?"
Behind him Gilly gasped. New Providence had no buccaneer port like Port Royal, with a royal governor and a bustling trading center-only a pirate port with lean-to shacks set up on the sand. Desperate tales were told of New Providence. And Gilly knew they were all too true-she had come here from New Providence.
Carolina was still smiling but her eyes narrowed. His answer had satisfied her, for it suited the man who spoke. He could be a pirate-and perhaps a renegade Spaniard to boot. Oddly she found herself regretting that he was not a buccaneer, for buccaneers were privateers really, patriotic men who would never attack ships of their own flag or those of their country's friends. Buccaneers fought only Spain.
"So you are from New Providence?" she murmured. "Recently, I mean?" He shrugged an affirmation. "One must be from somewhere, I suppose." "I have often wondered about the place. What is it like there?"
She was challenging him, he thought. There was a good mind behind that winsome smile, those flashing silver eyes. "It is a hellhole," he said bluntly. "There are words that would describe the place in French-but they are not for a lady's ears."
"That bad?" she mocked him.
"Worse," he said with feeling, for he had heard evil stories about New Providence-stories that would truly offend a lady's ears.
"Still I am told there are some colorful people there." She sensed his withdrawal but refused to let go of the subject. "Rouge, for example?"
He guessed she was testing him, and under his lace collar he began to sweat. Who could guess what this elegant lady might know of New Providence or its denizens?
But Rouge, at least he had heard of. She was famous far and wide. "What do you wish to know of her?" he asked cautiously.
Gilly had set down the platter of biscuits and now she paused in the door and watched him brightly. "Oh, I don't know," Carolina said vaguely. "What she is like, I suppose. Accounts of her differ so." If that was true, he had a chance! "An Amazon,"
he declared flatly.
"I am told she wields a cutlass like a man."
"Not so well," he said indifferently. "She has scars where"-he grinned-"they don't show. Shall I tell you about them?" His face lit up with a wicked smile. He would fling back the elegant lady's challenge!
"Never mind," said Carolina hastily. "I just wondered-is she very beautiful? I have heard rumors."
"She does not hold a candle to your loveliness," he declared gallantly. "In fact, I found Rouge quite plain!"
With a satisfied expression, Gilly closed the door and retired into the pantry.
"Come now, I did not ask for a comparison!" laughed Carolina, tossing her head beneath that hot gaze. "But I have been told that
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