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Authors: Blackthorne

BOOK: Ruth Langan
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Olivia caught a glimpse of their silvery-blue fins as they sliced the water. And became aware of his strength as he kept the ship on a steady course through the choppy waves.
“Over there is a dolphin.”
Olivia glanced over and saw the creature, as frisky as any puppy, keeping pace with the boat.
“Sailors consider them good luck. No matter where we are, no matter how far from land, we see their smiling faces and feel less lonely.”
“With all the danger and excitement you faced on those exotic shores, I can’t imagine you feeling lonely, Quenton.”
“Aye, there was plenty of danger and excitement. And many an opportunity to visit foreign shores that were lovely.” His tone lowered with feeling. “But none of them was England.” And none of the exotic women he’d met had matched the rare beauty of this woman.
She shivered. Unconsciously her hands tightened on the wheel
“The water will be smoother when we leave this channel behind and reach open sea.” He lifted a hand to point. “You see how the water changes color? Here below us it’s almost the color of the sky. But up ahead it’s more green than blue. And far out there, to the west, it’s so deep blue it’s almost black.”
She followed his direction and nodded. “I’ve never been at sea. It’s not at all what I’d expected. It’s like being thrust into another world.”
“Are you afraid?” He returned his hand to the wheel, his fingers warm and strong as they covered hers, as if to reassure her.
She turned her face slightly to answer him. “Nay. I’m not afraid. Just enchanted. I never dreamed it could be so beautiful.”
Nothing could have pleased him more. He was elated to know that she loved the sea as he did.
His earlier temper dissolved. His mood lightened. Pressing his lips to her temple he murmured, “The beauty of this ocean pales beside yours, Olivia.”
She felt the familiar little jolt to her system and stood very still, wishing this moment could go on and on and never end. It felt so good to be standing here, the wind in her hair, Quenton’s strong hands on hers.
She knew, with absolute certainty, that she was safe in the circle of his arms.
“Look,” he called, pointing.
Everyone turned.
“Land’s End.”
“Truly?”
He returned his lips to her temple. “It is, quite literally, land’s end. We’ve passed the westernmost tip of Britain.”
Olivia was charmed by the wild, primitive beauty of the spot. And enchanted by the name. But she was even more enchanted by the man who called this place home.
From his position on the deck, Charles watched his old friend and began to smile. It would seem that his little plan was working.
Oh, the royal spy thought he’d mastered the art of keeping his thoughts to himself. But when it came to the pretty little nursemaid, he was as transparent as these azure waters. The fool was in love. And Charles intended to point out that fact to his old friend. In his own good time.
 
“Lord Stamford.” Charles shaded the sun from his eyes and pointed off the bow. “Why don’t we drop anchor in that little cove?”
“Aye. It would give us a good chance to see what Cook prepared for our midday meal.” Quenton guided the boat into the shallows, then dropped anchor a short distance from shore and set about lowering the sails.
Pembroke went below deck and returned with a tray of drinks. Bennett and Minerva sat in the shade of the canopy, while Olivia and Liat joined Charles and Quenton in the sunlight.
The king breathed deeply. “I do so love being out of London. Though I often cruise along the Thames, the air isn’t half as sweet as it is here.” He turned to Olivia. “Have you been to London, my dear?”
She thought about her brief visit to her aunt’s house, and a shadow seemed to pass over her happiness. “Aye, Majesty.”
“And what did you think of it?”
“I much prefer the country.”
He gave Quenton a meaningful glance. “Perhaps you just haven’t seen it in the company of the right people. I was thinking of inviting you to court.”
“To...court?” She glanced at Quenton and saw the scowl. Was it something she had said?
Just then Pembroke crossed the deck and paused beside the king. “Majesty, your meal is ready below deck.”
“Ah, thank you, Pembroke. This sea air has given me quite an appetite.” He caught Olivia’s hand and tucked it through the crook of his arm. “Come, my dear. Let’s lead the way, shall we?”
He led her down the stairs and held her chair at table, while Quenton carried Bennett, and Minerva and Liat followed.
The king picked up a goblet of ale and watched as Pembroke filled his plate with tender biscuits, thin slices of poached salmon and beef and kidney pie.
After the first bite he gave a sigh of contentment. “Lord Stamford, Cook has outdone herself.”
“Aye, Majesty.” Quenton smiled. “Of course, it could be that the sea air has invigorated your appetite.”
“Perhaps. But if you’re not careful, old friend, I may have to steal her away to London as well. Perhaps, by the time I leave Blackthorne, you and Bennett could find yourselves all alone. And I will have all the lovely, tempting females who make your lives so comfortable at Blackthorne, surrounding me at court. ”
Instead of his usual scowl, Quenton smiled. “You may find yourself having to deal with insurrection if you should try.”
Olivia allowed the friendly banter to flow around her while she enjoyed her meal. She couldn’t remember when she’d had such a lovely day. She glanced at Quenton from beneath lowered lashes. And all because it was spent in the company of this mysterious, fascinating man.
 
After lunch they took their drinks on deck, enjoying the sunshine.
Liat pointed to the rock-strewn beach, where driftwood lay like beached whales and gnarled trees spread their misshapen branches to the ground. “Could we swim to shore, sir?”
“Swim?” Olivia looked thunderstruck.
“I take it you don’t swim, Miss St. John.”
She glanced at Quenton. “Nay. Do you?”
“I had no choice. It was learn to swim, or sink like a stone.”
“You mean you were simply tossed into the water and left to manage on your own?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
She made a sound of distress. “Who would do such a cruel thing?”
“A couple of drunken sailors.”
Charles winked at Bennett. “I hope you made them pay for their prank.”
“I was a little preoccupied with saving my life. After thrashing around and drinking several gallons of seawater, I managed to learn the rudiments of swimming.”
“And then did you go after your assailants?” Charles asked.
Quenton shook his head. “Unfortunately their ship had already left port.”
Charles leaned his arms along the rail. “A pity.”
Quenton grinned. “Fortunately it was a Dutch ship.”
As Bennett smiled broadly and the king chuckled, Olivia was puzzled. “Why was that fortunate?”
“Because they made the mistake of sailing into English waters. And as a loyal subject of King Charles II, I was forced to make an example of them.”
“Their gold, as I recall, was a welcome addition to our coffers.” Charles gave him a broad smile. “And once again my loyal friend had served his king and country with distinction.”
“And those sailors who taught me to swim regretted their rude behavior.” Quenton abruptly lowered himself over the side of the boat and called, “Come, Liat. The water here is shallow. You can swim to shore.”
“I’ll go with him.” Charles removed his fine kid boots and, without a care about his elegant satin breeches, jumped into the water and began to wade to shore.
“Are you coming, Olivia?” Quenton called. “Or do you wish to wait here with my brother?”
Olivia looked at him in surprise. “And how am I supposed to get to shore?”
“You can jump in and swim along with Liat.” Quenton lifted his arms. “Or you can trust me to catch you and carry you to shore.”
She glanced around. The gentle rocking of the boat seemed to be lulling Bennett into a stupor. Beside him, Minerva’s head bobbed. Pembroke had gone below deck to clear away the remains of their meal.
She eased herself over the railing, taking care to keep her billowing skirts modestly in place. “You won’t drop me?”
Quenton gauged the distance, then lifted his arms. “I give you my word.”
What in the world was she getting herself into? Trusting that he would keep his promise, she took a deep breath and jumped.
He caught her easily.
She was forced to wrap her arms around his neck. That brought her face dangerously close to his. For the space of several seconds he stared into her eyes. She felt her cheeks grow hot, and knew that he had to be aware of her discomfort.
As he started through the shallows he said, “I’m going to have to speak to Cook. She needs to see that you eat more. Why, you hardly weigh more than a flower petal.”
“I doubt you’d say that if you had to carry me any great distance.”
He paused. His lips were mere inches from hers. “If you asked, my lady, I’d carry you clear across England.”
“What’s taking you two so long?” Charles had already reached shore and was seated on the warm sand.
Liat was running along shore, dodging the waves that rolled up, washing away his little footprints.
“Don’t forget, I have this heavy burden to tote.” Quenton laughed as he deposited Olivia beside the king.
“Oh, now I’m a burden. Just minutes ago he tried to flatter me by saying I weighed no more than a flower.”
“You must never believe what a man tells you.” Charles winked. “Believe instead what his friends tell you behind his back.” He turned to Quenton. “I believe the lad wants you to help him climb that tree, Q.”
“Aye. He needs a hand.” Quenton sauntered off.
Olivia turned to Charles. “I heard you call him that the other night.”
“You mean, when you were hiding in the wardrobe?”
Her cheeks flamed. “Aye. I hope I am forgiven, Majesty.”
Charles couldn’t help laughing. “It will make for an interesting story in years to come. I thought you most delightful, my dear. Since you overheard, you know that we call Bennett Baby, and they call me Chills.”
She seemed distinctly uncomfortable, which had him laughing louder. “Don’t be too shocked, my dear. Childhood habits die hard. Only when I am alone with Baby and Q can I truly be myself. Now remember, I have just told you that in strictest confidence. If a word of it is ever repeated, it will be denied. And I shall have your head.”
He patted her hand, lowered his voice. “While we have these few minutes of privacy, I’d like to tell you an interesting tale about an old friend of mine. When he was just a youngster, not much older than Liat, he lost his parents in a tragic accident and was taken in by a very stern but loving grandfather. When he grew up he fell in love with a beautiful lady who loved him in return. But something went terribly wrong with their love. And he was left alone to bear the pain of the loss of his wife, of his brother’s infirmity and the vicious gossip that followed him everywhere. And when my loyal friend went to sea he risked his own life many times out of loyalty to his king.”
She listened in stunned silence and realized, when the tale ended, that the king had just given her a most precious gift. Now, finally, she was able to see Quenton as a child, as a young man and as a true friend to his monarch and hero to the country.
She grieved with him over the loss of his wife and the suffering of his beloved brother, but she no longer cared about the rumors and the gossip. None of it mattered. The only thing that did matter was the fact that she was hopelessly, desperately, in love with the king’s old, dear friend.
She turned to him with tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Majesty.”
“For what?” He stood and helped her to her feet.
“For telling me what I needed to know.”
He squeezed her hands. “Your heart already knew, my dear.”
“Am I so easy to read?”
He smiled. “I knew what the two of you were feeling before you did. I’m not certain Q knows yet just how deep his feelings are. But I warn you. He is a man of very great passion. Once that door is unlocked, prepare your heart for a siege.”
She looked away. “I’m not certain that I am ready for any of this.”
His voice was kind. “What does your heart tell you?”
She gave a shaky laugh. “My foolish, fickle heart has been behaving badly for some time now, whenever I am around your friend Q.”
He caught her chin and stared deeply into her eyes. “My dear Miss St. John. Always trust your heart.”

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