Louisa Rawlings by Promise of Summer

the kingdom of your imagination are as wicked as that.”
    “ Touché. ” He took her riposte in good humor, touching his finger to his forehead in salute.
    “Name of God, be serious.” Martin looked more and more unhappy. “I don’t trust Captain Foure.”
    “Nor do I. But I don’t want to lose our investment. We’ll just have to be on our guard.” Lucien finished the last of his chocolate and laughed. “Besides, we have the man by the culls. Unless he wants to forfeit his ship, and his life…” He tapped the hilt of his sword. He stood up and put on his tricorne. “The coach will be waiting.”
    Topaze frowned at him. “Who is Captain Foure?”
    “Must you always ask questions that don’t concern you?”
    “Hellfire and damnation, I…”
    Lucien’s blue eyes were cold as a winter sky. “ Don’t swear. ”
    Martin bristled. “The girl has a right to ask.” He turned to Topaze. “Captain Foure is”—the words were clearly distasteful to him—“a smuggler.”
    “The devil you say! What is…”
    “Enough,” muttered Lucien. “We’ll miss the stage. You can tell our prying chit the whole story in La Rochelle, while I’m entertaining the worthy captain.”
    They arrived at La Rochelle late in the afternoon, and went at once to a small and secluded inn, at some distance from the long quays and the tall-masted ships clustered in the Bay of Biscay. “Wait here,” said Lucien, after they had settled in. “I should be back in time for supper.”
    “No.” Martin clapped his hat firmly on his blond hair. “I’ll come with you.”
    Lucien shook his head. “The Three Dogs Tavern is in a vile part of the city.”
    “All the more reason for me to accompany you. And you’ll be carrying all that money.”
    “Damn it, Martin. Foure expects me alone.”
    “Surely there’s another tavern nearby. I’ll wait for you there.” Martin’s voice was firm and determined.
    Curse them both , thought Topaze. “ We’ll wait,” she corrected.
    Lucien’s eyes widened. “Now I’m damned if you will.”
    “What if something should happen to you both? What would become of me, alone in a strange city?”
    “The thought of your helplessness somehow fails to disturb me,” he drawled. “You’ll wait here.”
    “No.”
    “ I said you’ll wait here. ” His voice was cold steel.
    She gulped and took a steadying breath. “If you leave me here alone, Véronique de Chalotais will vanish once again. And for good. I swear it. What does it matter to me, after all? I have my new clothes. And the Givets are, no doubt, enjoying their windfall of two hundred and fifty livres. It will be enough.” She waved away his muttered protest, then smiled in cunning. “Unless, of course, I’m permitted to wait with Martin.”
    “You bold miss! I’ll…”
    “Yes or no?”
    He nodded reluctantly.
    Her smile was radiant, wiped clear of guile. “I knew you’d see the wisdom of it. After all, I have my own investment to protect now, husband . I should hate to be widowed, when I’ve scarcely been a bride.”
    He shook his head, laughing. “How is it you haven’t been clapped into prison by now?”
    “For a better reason than you’ve escaped the gallows.” She grinned. “I, at least, look innocent.”
    They reached the Three Dogs Tavern as the sun was setting. A squat, half-timbered building, it sat in a cul-de-sac approached by a long narrow alley that was lined with squalid shacks and dim shops. As they made their way across the cobblestones, Topaze looked uneasily about her. She was used to the poorer streets of Bordeaux, of course, and aging, ragged mariners. But this place seemed to be the haunt of seafaring cutthroats and tosspot knaves. The dregs of the ocean trade. They slouched in doorways, peered from windows, shuffled along in drunken lethargy.
    Topaze shivered. The hired carriage that had dropped them at the entrance to the lane had been paid to return in an hour’s time. Still, they’d have to