this boon companion from childhood who knew her so well was the wrong sort of man for her, who could be the right one?
The image of the blue-eyed, black-haired free-trader popped into her head. He certainly was handsome. Even with his hair slicked back and cold seawater dripping off that powerful chest and shoulders, he radiated a sheer masculine energy that had struck her in the pit of her stomach, setting off a fiery tingling in her core that warmed her all the way to her toes.
A resonant echo of that sensation heated her now, just remembering.
She had to chuckle. Wouldn’t Marcus sputter with outrage at the mere thought of her being attracted to such a low-born brigand?
’Twas good that Papa would never learn of it; she wouldn’t want to bring on another of the attacks to which he seemed increasingly prone. Mama had often rebuked her, claiming her unladylike behaviour caused him a distress that made such episodes more likely.
A familiar guilt stirred sourly in her belly. She only hoped her disgrace in London hadn’t precipitated one.
Marcus hadn’t allowed her to see Papa before leaving London, nor had she wished to. It pained her anew to think that her actions might harm him.
As someone had harmed her, though no one in her immediate family believed it. According to the diatribe with which Marcus had dismissed her, the entire Carlow family considered her a selfish, thoughtless, caper-witted chit without a care for the shame and humiliation her wild behaviour heaped on the family name.
On the other hand, given that assessment of her character, a low-born brigand was perfect for her, she thought in disgust. Though the stranger’s handsome face and attractive body probably hid a nature as perfidious and deceiving as every other man’s.
Except maybe Hal. A wave of longing for the brother who’d been almost her twin swept over her. If only Hal had been in London that evening, how differently the outcome might have been! He would not have dismissed or abandoned her.
But with Boney now on Elba, Hal had been off somewhere in Paris or Vienna, helping secure the peace, exploring new cities, seducing matrons and parlour maids and in general having the sort of adventures which had won him a reputation among his peers as a daring young buck.
Adventures which, openly criticize though they might, Honoria believed Papa and Marcus secretly admired. Adventures denied a young lady, who would find her reputation ruined by even a whiff of the scandal that settled so gracefully about her brother’s dashing shoulders.
A knock at the door was followed by the entrance of Mrs Dawes and the kitchen maid, both struggling with canisters of heated water. Wondering what had happened to the footmen who normally hefted such heavy loads, Honoria walked over to assist them. Life, she reflected wistfully and not for first time, as they poured hot water into the copper tub before the hearth, was distinctly unfair to those of the female gender.
Dawes stayed to assist her into the bath. By the time she’d scrubbed all the salt and sand out of her hair, the lady’s maid turned up to help her out of the rapidly cooling water, letting the housekeeper return to her duties.
‘So sorry I was absent when you needed me, miss,’ Tamsyn said. ‘Oh, but what a brave thing it was you done! I could hardly believe it when I seen you wading out into the water, for all the world like you was going to swim—’
‘You saw me?’ Honoria interrupted. Suddenly she understood the reason behind the maid’s absence and the lack of footmen: they must all have been assisting the free-traders in moving their cargo inland. ‘Tamsyn, surely you have not been taking part in illegal activities!’
‘Oh, course not, miss,’ the maid replied hastily, a telltale blush colouring her cheeks. ‘I, um, heard all about it from Alan the footman, who met some fishermen whilst walking back from the village. But you must take care, miss! The water in the cove looks peaceful, but there be a powerful current where it runs between them rocks back out to sea. If you’d gone out much farther, you mighta been swept away!’
In the agitation of the moment, struggling in her heavy, wet clothing and desperate to reach the drowning man, Honoria hadn’t particularly noticed. Now that she thought about it, she did recall how much stronger the outward tug had become as she reached deeper water. ‘Luckily I didn’t need to go out farther.’
‘Indeed, miss. But, oh, wasn’t he wonderful! Leaping off the rocks and swimming across the strongest part of undertow to haul out that worthless revenue agent! I swear, my heart was in my throat, wondering if the both of them would be sucked back out to sea,’ the maid exclaimed, obviously forgetting her contention that she’d not personally witnessed the drama.
Amused, Honoria tried to resist the curiosity pulling at her as insistently as that treacherous current. Losing that struggle, she asked casually, ‘Who was the young man who made the rescue?’
The maid stared at her. ‘You don’t know? Why, ’twas the Hawk! My brother Dickin, who’s a dab hand of a captain himself, says he’s the best, most fearless mariner he’s ever seen! Eyes like a cat, he has, able to navigate despite tides and rough sea even on the blackest night. Gabriel Hawksworth’s his real name. He’s only been captain of the Flying Gull for a few months, but folks hereabouts already dubbed him Hawk for the way he can steer his cutter sharp into land and back out again, like some bird swooping in to seize his prey.’
‘He’s not local, then?’ Honoria asked.
‘No, miss. Not rightly sure where he hails from, though with that hint of blarney in his voice, I’d guess he’s Irish.’
‘Do the Irish also fish these waters?’ she asked. Though the Hawk seemed too confident and commanding a man to have spent his life on a fishing boat.
‘Don’t know what he done before the war. He was an Army mate of Dickin’s. While with Wellington’s forces in Spain, far from the sea, they used to talk about sailing, my brother told me. Even took a boat out together a few times when they got to Lisbon, and Dickin said he’d never met a man who could handle a small craft better. When the former captain of the Gull was injured, Dickin asked the Hawk to come sail her.’
An Army man. That would explain his decisive air of command. Her brother Hal possessed the quality in abundance. ‘If he is so fond of sea, I wonder he didn’t end up in the Navy.’
‘Don’t know about the Hawk, but Dickin had no wish to be gone for months deep-water sailing. Said if the navvies ever found out how well he could handle a tiller, he’d be gang-pressed onto a frigate and never see land again! So when the Army recruiters come through, he jumped up to volunteer. Didn’t mind doing his part to put Boney away, but wanted to be able to come home afterward, take care of Ma and us kids and tend the family business.’
‘The family business being free-trading?’ Honoria asked.
Tamsyn blushed again. ‘Helping Pa run the inn, mostly, along with some fishing, miss. As for anything else, as folks around here will tell you, ’tis best if you don’t look too close nor ask too many questions. In general, the revenuers leave everyone alone, long as old Mr Marshall gets his cut regular. That man who ran his skiff on the rocks today was a new man.’
‘Who wouldn’t be around to look closely or ask questions any longer, if Mr Hawksworth hadn’t intervened.’
‘True, but the Hawk being such a good captain, I don’t think anyone hereabouts will hold it against him.’
