Smuggler's Lair by Virginia Henley

excited reverie. Hawkhurst has deliberately led me to this man to gauge our reactions.
    â€œCarswell, this is Victoria . . . Palmer, my young sister.”
    The man eyed her breasts avidly. “Such a pleasure, my dear lady. I would be honored if you’d save me the first galliard.”
    Hawkhurst thumped the customs officer on the back. “Damned good job you’re doing, Carswell. Bringing thieving scum to justice is a crucial task, though often thankless. Be assured that I and everyone here owes you a debt of gratitude.”
    â€œI try to do my duty, your lordship.” Carswell, a brutish looking man, tried to appear humble and failed.
    Falcon led Tory across the room to a table filled with refreshments. “My suspicion was wrong. The customs officer is clearly not your father. Swine though he is, Carswell would hardly be sexually attracted to his own daughter.”
    â€œYou were testing me, you devil! Everything I’ve told you is the absolute truth.”
    He grinned down at her. “I believe you; thousands wouldn’t.”
    Three females, all insatiably curious, hurried to join them.
    â€œLady Goodwood, Lady Firle, Lady Sackville . . . m’sister, Tory,” he said negligently.
    Tory immediately recognized the noble names from the journal.
    Lady Firle stroked her fan along Falcon’s arm. “Darling, are you sure you have no French wine hidden away?”
    He took her fingers to his lips. “If I had, I’d keep it for myself, Joan. Try the gin, I’m told it provokes lust.”
    â€œI’ll gladly share a glass of blue ruin with you, darling. Just keep it away from Lord Firle,” she cautioned dryly.
    Lady Sackville narrowed her eyes. “I warrant gin’s not the only thing you’d gladly share with Falcon.”
    Joan laughed. “What makes you think I haven’t, Lavinia?”
    â€œIf you had, your look would be more content and less rabid.”
    â€œYou should know, Lavinia,” Lady Goodwood drawled.
    They’re having a catfight over him. Tory accepted a glass of cider from a footman and almost choked on its powerful effect.
    â€œCareful, m’dear, it’s as potent as your brother,” Joan warned.
    Carswell came to claim his dance. The galliard was a favorite and all the ladies eagerly sought partners. The laughter became raucous and it didn’t matter that Tory missed a few steps. She was breathless when the dance ended. The musicians played a slow pavane, and she was glad that everyone left the floor. Carswell returned her to her “brother.”
    â€œYour eyes followed me all around the room. Were you afraid I’d disgrace myself?”
    â€œYes, I thought your titties would fall out of your bodice.”
    â€œIn this crowd I’d have lots of help putting them back in.”
    â€œThey wouldn’t dream of touching the precious objects without a formal introduction, so come and meet them.”
    Victoria met government officials, a magistrate, and various lords from Rye and Hastings. Some of the nobles she met were from the next county of Kent. The guests were far more interested in drink, cards, and gossip than they were in dancing. The one exception was the captain of the Sussex Militia.
    â€œAny arrests this week, Captain Drudge?”
    â€œThere was another sighting of the phantom ship two nights back prowling the coast for prey, your lordship.”
    â€œSuperstition is rife in coastal villages. If you had a crown for every phantom ship reported, you’d be a wealthy man, captain.”
    â€œShe’s no phantom, she’s just familiar with these waters. I’ll be ready for her at the next dark of the moon.”
    â€œExcellent! Keep your sword to hand, Drudge.”
    Falcon led Tory to the card tables and handed her a couple of gold crowns. “Here, go mad.”
    Tory had never gambled in her life, but now that she had money she wasn’t going to pass up the