Taken by You (27 page)

“The captain is the most popular man at court with the ladies,” the messenger bragged between bites of bread and cheese “They fairly swoon over him.”

“Tell us more, Tom,” the cook encouraged, bribing him with a thick slice of roast beef. “Which ladybird does our captain fancy?”

“He fancies them all,” Tom said importantly. “But when he’s not with the queen he’s seen most in the company of young Lady Jane Carey. A toothsome morsel, all eyes and tits. And an heiress to boot. Old Bess throws them together every chance she gets, and our captain ain’t one to pass up an opportunity, if ye catch my meaning.” He guffawed.

Chuckles and knowing smiles were exchanged all around while Tom tore off a piece of succulent beef and chewed with obvious enjoyment.

“Tell us what Bess said when she learned Captain Scott married without her approval?” Daisy asked eagerly.

“Rumors has it she was furious,” Tom revealed. “Told him he could have the marriage annulled or seek a divorce, she did. Wanted to send the Spanish baggage packing and give him Lady Jane as a reward for his enriching her coffers with Spanish gold.” He cackled uproariously.

“I knew it!” Daisy exulted. “We’ll soon be rid of the Spanish whore.”

Luca rested her head weakly against the wall. Their heartless ridicule made her physically ill. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes, and bitter bile rose up in her throat It was no secret that Morgan had no use for her as his wife, and now she knew how little she meant to him. With Lady Jane waiting eagerly for Morgan to end his marriage, it would only be a matter of time before she was out of Morgan’s life for good. If she returned to Spain her father would dispatch her to Havana and Don Diego. She was nothing but a pawn in the hands of men. Stifling a cry, she turned and fled. Had she remained to hear what Tom said next, she would have been heartened.

“Don’t count on gettin’ rid of yer mistress yet. Gossip has it that Captain Scott still hasn’t told the queen whether or not he will pursue an annulment. Can ye believe it? With him and Lady Jane so cozy everyone thought he’d jump at the chance to dump a woman everyone says he was forced to marry.”

“Forced to marry!” Several voices joined in to voice their surprise.

“Aye, that’s the rumor. Don’t know the details, but ye can bet they’re juicy.” He rose abruptly, patting his stomach and belching. “Well, it’s back to London.”

Alone in her room, Luca paced the length of the floor and back.
The lecherous bastard,
she muttered beneath her breath. How dare Morgan cavort at court with another woman. How dare he make a laughingstock of her before his queen and all of England. She’d be damned if she’d stay in the country to be ridiculed and reviled by his servants.
Oh, no,
she vowed. She’d make Morgan Scott and his paramour sorry they frolicked behind her back.

She knew exactly what she had to do, and she was angry enough to do it.

Chapter 14

I
t was mid-March before Luca was able to implement her plan. The weather these last weeks had been abysmal, making travel abroad over muddy, rutted roads all but impossible. She had been to the village several times during the winter, but the time hadn’t been right for her to leave for London.

“You wish to go to the village again?” Forsythe asked frostily.

“Sí.
Please inform the coachman that I want the coach brought around at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

“Is there a particular reason you wish to go to the village today?”

Luca raised her brows and gave him the best condescending glare she could muster. “Do I need one?”

“Of course not.” His hands fluttered helplessly at his sides. “Daisy will accompany you as usual.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Luca said tightly. “Send along a footman if you think there is danger.”

“Madam, I simply cannot allow you to leave the estate without a maid in attendance.”

Luca eyed him coolly. “I do not care what is proper or not. Have the coach waiting at precisely ten o’clock tomorrow morning.” Turning abruptly, she left him standing with his mouth agape as she strode away.

Later that day, when Clyde Withers arrived at the house, Luca resigned herself to another battle. Evidently Forsythe had enlisted the overseer’s help to dissuade her from going to the village without her maid.

“How can I help you, Mr. Withers?” Luca asked when she met with the overseer in the library.

Withers cleared his throat, obviously distressed at having to deal with so delicate a matter. “Forsythe informed me that you wished to go to the village. That is perfectly all right with me, but we cannot allow you to go alone. Tis not proper.”

“I do not need a chaperon,” Luca insisted curtly. “None of the servants like me, and I do not care to spend my time with them.” If one of the servants tagged along, it would spoil all her plans.

Withers’s face reddened. During the weeks and months Captain Scott had been in London, he’d not sent one personal message to his wife. Withers felt pity for the poor woman and couldn’t understand why his employer had married the Spanish beauty if he intended to neglect her. If the messenger from London could be believed, Captain Scott was having the time of his life in London wooing Lady Jane Carey and playing the courtier. He could tell that Captain Scott’s lady was lonely, but he was powerless to remedy the situation.

“I have no objection to your outing,” Withers relented. “Is there anything else you’d like?”

“I do not like to travel about with an empty purse,” Luca said, sending Withers a winsome smile.

“You may charge whatever pleases you, as you did before.”

“Did my husband make no provisions for a monthly allowance?”

“He did say I was to give you whatever you needed.”

“I need some coins for my purse.”

Withers gave her an uncertain look, then shrugged and walked to the desk. Taking a key from his pocket, he unlocked one of the drawers and pulled out a small metal box. Luca heard the jingle of coins and walked closer to get a better look. The box was crammed full of silver and gold pieces. Withers counted out several silver coins and looked askance at Luca.

“Perhaps one or two gold coins,” Luca suggested brightly. “Morgan would want me to have enough to buy myself a few geegaws without charging them to his account. Of course anything major will be billed to my husband.”

Always a soft touch for a woman’s winsome smile, Withers readily acquiesced, handing Luca several gold, as well as silver, coins. He’d never known his employer to be a stingy man, so he doubted Morgan would begrudge his wife a monthly stipend. Had he known what Luca had in mind, he wouldn’t have been so free with Morgan’s blunt.

The following morning Luca left the hall at precisely ten o’clock and found the coach waiting outside the door.

“What time will you return, madam?” Forsythe asked as he handed her into the coach.

“Perhaps I shall visit the crofters after I’m finished in the village. Do not be alarmed if I don’t return before dark. The day is unusually fine, and I am tired of being cooped up in the house. Signs of spring are everywhere, and I wish to enjoy them”

Luca waved gaily as the coach clattered down the road. There had been no rain for several days, and most of the puddles in the road had evaporated. Luca’s spirits soared; the weather was cooperating beautifully. She had expended considerable time and thought on what had to be done and how to go about it. Weeks and months had Passed, bringing no personal correspondence from Morgan. What little she’d heard had been gleaned from gossiping servants. She’d learned that more ships had gathered at Plymouth, and that England was preparing for the anticipated Spanish Expedition to reach their shores. A system of beacons had been set up, ready to flash along the coast and inland to every county when the Spanish fleet sailed into sight.

Every piece of ordnance available was being brought up to fortify the south coast and eastern counties. Town ditches were cleaned and deepened, breaches in town walls were repaired, and stone curtain walls were banked with earth against a possible barrage of artillery. Despite all this, Luca refused to believe an attack by Spain was forthcoming. The Catholic Queen Mary of Scots, having plotted for nineteen years to wrest the English crown from her cousin Elizabeth, had been tried for conspiracy against the crown, found guilty, and executed. Now that she was dead, there seemed no reason for an invasion.

The village came into view, and the coach slowed down to accommodate the heavier flow of people and carts. Today was market day, and farmers converged on the city in droves. This unexpected event suited Luca’s purposes perfectly. At her signal, the coachman pulled up to the curb and jumped down from his box to open the door.

“Will this do, madam?”

“This will do just fine.” Luca gave him an ingratiating smile. “You and the footman may visit the grog shop if you wish—I expect to be engaged for several hours.”

“I’ll send the footman along to carry your packages, Lady Scott.” The coachman had orders from Mr. Withers to keep close tabs on the mistress since this was her first venture abroad without a maid.

Luca frowned. She neither needed nor wanted a bodyguard, but realized it was fruitless to gainsay Morgan’s faithful servant. She acquiesced gracefully, hastily revising her plan.

Luca strolled about with little purpose until she found the dressmaker’s shop. After instructing the footman to wait outside, that she’d likely be a long time ordering summer frocks, Luca entered the shop, which was crowded with market day customers. Mrs. Cromley was busy with another customer and did not notice Luca. Sidling around to a curtained doorway, Luca ducked through, Eleased to find herself in a storeroom with a door leading into an alley. Everything was going so smoothly she couldn’t believe it. It was almost as if God was watching out for her.

The coins jingled comfortingly in Luca’s reticule as she picked her way through the filth-littered alley. Ditching the footman had been easy, but finding transportation to London was going to be more difficult. But once again luck was with her. In the alley she came upon a wine vendor unloading his cargo at the rear of a grog shop. She heard the vendor telling the shop owner, who had come out to pay him, that he was returning to London to pick up another load of wine at the warehouse. Luca waited until they had bid one another goodbye before approaching the vendor, who was busily spreading a canvas over the bed of the dray.

“Did I hear you say you were going to London, sir?” she asked as the man climbed into the wagon.

The vendor eyed her curiously. “Aye, lass, ye did. What’s it to ye?”

“I’ll make it worth your while if you take me with you.”

The vendor spat in contempt. “What are ye, a whore? I’m a married man, faithful to me wife. I have a daughter older than ye. Find yerself another mark.”

Luca drew herself up indignantly. “Indeed no, sir, I am no
puta.
I am merely in need of transportation to London and am willing to pay in coin for a ride.”

The vendor stared narrow-eyed at Luca, finding her accented English highly suspicious. “Ye be a foreigner? Mayhap yer a spy.”

“I am Spanish but certainly no spy. Please,” Luca pleaded, “I am desperately in need of a ride to London.”

“Spanish! I carry no Spaniards in me dray. Sorry, lass, find another way to London.” He slapped the reins against the team’s rump, and the dray jolted forward.

Unwilling to take no for an answer, Luca waited until the vendor was busy negotiating the narrow alley, then she hoisted herself onto the wagon bed and crawled beneath the canvas before the vendor could realize he had a passenger. By the time the dray pulled out onto the crowded street, Luca was settled cozily beneath the canvas. Eased by the sun’s warmth and lulled by the steady plodding of the horses, Luca promptly fell asleep.

London
March, 1588

The queen’s Presence Chamber was teeming with men and women, all elegantly attired in silks, satins, and brocades. Both sexes were regally adorned with powdered wigs, rings on every finger, and shoes sporting jeweled buckles. But the brightest star in me large chamber was the queen, reigning among her courtiers and ladies. She was flirting outrageously with one courtier in particular, a tall, broad-shouldered man whose bronzed countenance gave mute testimony to many hours withstanding the glaring sun and blustery wind. Obviously a ceremony had just taken place, for dignitaries and privy councillors filled the chamber.