The King's Marauder (44 page)

“Nothing of the sort,” Mountjoy replied, with a wave of his hand. “Just idle happenstance that he saw you. Christian
charity,
is it?”

“The stupid fool left her nothing, and made no arrangements for her upkeep should anything happen to him,” Lewrie objected. “I asked about with his fellow officers, but he hadn’t a thought for her. His loss. More like pagan lust, if you must categorise it. I was quite taken with Mistress Maddalena Covilh
ā
from the first time I saw her and Hughes dining, as you well know, and as you cautioned me to shun, so Hughes wouldn’t go pettish on us. Utterly
wasted
on a swine like Hughes. She’s Portuguese…”

“From a mountain town named Covilh
ā
, thence from Oporto, where she took up with a young man in the wine trade,” Mountjoy interrupted, ticking off what he knew, “and followed him to Gibraltar in 1803. He perished in the last bout of Gibraltar Fever in 1804, and she’s been ‘under the protection’ of a series of British officers since. She’s fluent in English as well as Spanish and her native tongue, is well-read in all three languages, and is much brighter than one would imagine of a young woman from such a background, with a fine mind.”

“You’ve spied on
her?
” Lewrie gawped.

“As soon as Hughes was chosen to command our troops, we looked into her,” Mountjoy said, with that sort of “I know something that you don’t know” superiority that was rife in the espionage trade, and which had always gotten right up Lewrie’s nose. “I told you early on that Gibraltar’s simply teeming with suspect foreigners, and the last thing we needed was a tempting young woman in contact with the enemy, who might beguile a braggart like Hughes into revealing too much of our plans, or my sources, and
how
we gathered information on potential targets. I have to protect my network.”

“Mine arse on a band-box!” Lewrie barked.

“For your information, Mistress Covilh
ā
is guileless and safe,” Mountjoy assured him, slyly amused. “Though it wouldn’t do to reveal too much of our doings to her, even so. Second-hand blabbing in the markets
could
be overheard by
real
enemy agents. For a time, I had a thought to recruit
her,
don’t ye know, if only to see if Hughes could be trusted to keep mum, and, she’s a clever girl, and could listen to what talk there is in the markets, and assist Deacon in shadowing any people we suspect. Who’d suspect a girl of twenty-three, out on her shopping, what?”

Twenty-three?
Lewrie wolfishly thought;
Yum, yum!

“So, take what joy you may, for as long as you can,” Mountjoy suggested with a twinkle, “and I’m sure you’ll treat her better than Hughes ever would.”

“And make arrangements, should…” Lewrie agreed, stopping short of the thought of his own demise, and rapping the nearest wood surface for luck, and to ward off the very idea.

“Quite,” Mountjoy said, beaming.

“Well, if that’s all, I’m off,” Lewrie said, tossing back the last of his wine and rising. “Time for my dinner …
our
dinner.”

“
Bon appétit
!” Mountjoy cheerfully wished, with a wry wink. “Oh, by the by, before you go, I think I should pass along one bit of information that’s reached me
via
Cummings and his damned boat. He’s been into Cartagena, and says that there’s some activity round the navy yards … a couple of large frigates now have their yards crossed and are victualling?”

“The Dons, preparing t’go to sea?” Lewrie said, frowning. “If that’s so, perhaps I should leave the transport behind, this time. It ain’t
all
the warships in Cartagena gettin’ ready, is it? Their Navy hasn’t ventured out since Trafalgar, and I can’t think of a good reason for them t’start, unless our raids’ve pricked ’em too sore.”

“Cummings said that it was only the two frigates,” Mountjoy assured him as he rose to see him out, “but, he was in no position to nose about too closely. Do you think they
might
sail out against us?”

“Hmm … not unless they knew exactly where we’d be goin’ this time,” Lewrie replied, slowly mulling over the possibilities. “Else, they’d have to cruise the whole coast from Málaga to Alicante, lookin’ for us, and that’d require that they manage t’slip past the blockadin’ squadrons, first. To cruise in search of us would put them at risk of bein’ spotted by our other ships, brought to action, and taken before they discover
us.
”

“Well, keep a sharp eye peeled, no matter,” Mountjoy cautioned.

“Aye, I shall,” Lewrie promised, though he was quickly coming to see the odds of the Spanish sailing, and finding him, quite low.

For now, I’ll eat, drink, and be
hellish-
merry with Maddalena,
he told himself on the way down the stairs, past Mister Deacon’s faint leer as if
he
knew exactly where he was going, and who he would be with.
Damn all sneakin’ spies,
he thought;
And what they must think o’ me. And the Dons? Tomorrow’s another day!

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“
M
ā
e de Deus,
” Maddalena cooed with her head resting against his shoulder, still a little breathless from their last bout of lovemaking, with one slim leg cross his. “
Maravilhoso.
”

“My stars,” Lewrie said with a chuckle of delight, sprawled on his back with his arms loosely embracing her. “Damned
right,
it was! Ye deserve a reward for
that,
me girl.” Which statement made her laugh deep in her throat, snuggle closer, and make purring sounds. She had slipped atop him and had ridden “St. George”, this time, abandoning her earlier reticence and modesty, spitted upon his lance, pierced to the heart and dying the “little death” as the mythic dragon had, hair swishing, strong fingers clutching his shoulders, rocking, thrusting mindlessly, and crying out ’til the moment she’d broken. He had not reached his release, and after a long moment, had thrust upwards and had driven her to a second effort, even more frantic than the first. Lewrie had taken hold of her wrists and had leaned her back, feeling how she’d grown snugger and snugger, savouring her wee yelps and gasps ’til the moment he’d exploded as hot and as fiercely as a great gun, and she had quivered and cried out as she’d found a second, searing wave of utter bliss, almost at the same instant as his, which had left them gasping and completely spent.

“That
was
my reward, Alan,” Maddalena whispered close to his ear, a pleased-beyond-measure smile curling her lips. “I please you?”

“God, yes! You please me right down to me toes, Maddalena,” he assured her, turning to share a long soul kiss, eliciting a long, happy groan from her before they snuggled up, again, eyes closed in exhaustion, and sighing. “Every time, in fact,” he murmured.

“
Sim,
me too,” she vowed, reaching up one hand to stroke at his cheek. “Such a wonder I never know…’til you,” she said with a wee giggle. “Uhm … pardon, but I have to…”

She rose, slipping away from him, trailing her hand down his out-stretched arm as she left the bed to go behind a Chinese-looking folding screen to use the chamber pot. “Play with Precious,” she said.

Lewrie rolled over to her side of the bed and lifted the waiting kitten up to the sheets. “Spyin’ on us, are ye, kitty?” he said.

Precious was Maddalena’s latest acquisition, found in one of the local markets, though paying even six pence for him, when Gibraltar Town teemed with strays, Lewrie thought silly. He was a ram-cat, only three months or so old, wide-eyed and white-furred, with random splotches of ginger. As soon as he had all four paws down, he gave out a wee
Mew
and pounced on Lewrie’s wiggled fingers, and his tiny fangs and claws were sharp! Before Lewrie could pull the sheets up to cover his groin, Precious discovered the ribbons which bound his cundum on, and the kitten made a pounce in that direction!

“Oh no, ye don’t!” Lewrie cried, scooping him up.

Maddalena returned from behind the screen, her dressing gown on but unbound, and the sight of her marvellously pleasing and delightful body made Lewrie beam at her. “Here, you manage this wee beast whilst I take my turn before he claws me ‘wedding tackle’.”

“Oh, never do that, Precious,” Maddalena cooed at her kitten, picking him up and cuddling it to her breast. “Some things are precious to me besides you,” she added, looking teasingly at Lewrie.

Here, that sounds damned promising,
Lewrie thought as he took off his cundum and stowed it in a linen draw-string bag, then let go a stream of pee into the chamber pot, quickly putting the lid back on, regretting that fetchingly good-looking young women’s shite smelled as disagreeable as normal people’s. “Whew!” he whispered, wrinkling his nose, before returning to the bed-chamber.

Maddalena had tied the sash of her dressing gown, so he felt that he should don his long-tailed shirt, at least, which might protect his groin should the kitten go exploring, again. He stretched out beside her on the bed, propped up on one elbow, gave her a short kiss, and accepted a glass of wine that she’d poured for him in his absence. A neutral American merchant ship, still allowed to trade with France, had come in with lashings of luxury goods including champagne, and he had purchased a case of twelve, and had brought two of them along for their evening together. Even warm, it still tasted very good.

“You must leave before midnight?” Maddalena asked with a little pout.

“Not tonight, no,” Lewrie told her, with a gladsome sigh and a laugh. “Thought I’d take an ‘All Night In’, and go back aboard round sun-up.” He grinned again, recalling what had passed last year when he’d had the
Reliant
frigate, when his ever-randy First Lieutenant, Geoffrey Westcott, had wished for an “All Night In” ashore in Buenos Aires, and their Sailing Master at the time had quipped, “All Night In in
what?
”
Should’ve asked
“
In
Whom!” he thought.

“
Bom
, good!” Maddalena said, leaning close to brush her cheek upon his. “I do not like when you leave me in the middle of the night. I like sleeping with you, the waking up, and seeing you off with coffee and some bread and jam.”

“That pleases me, too,” Lewrie muttered fondly. “It’s hellish-hard t’leave your bed for me … your warmth, your sweet aroma?”

“You like my perfume?” she teased in a soft, promising voice.

“All of you
and
your perfume,” he cooed back.

Maddalena scooted up the bed, plumped up the thick feather pillows, and lolled against the headboard, giving out a glad sigh.

“Ah,” she said, cocking her head to one side to listen. Far off, there was a rumble of thunder. A breeze stirred the chintz drapes by the open doors to the balcony, and a patter of rain could be heard as a late autumn storm blew up. “Good!” she declared. “You cannot go to sea tomorrow. I pray it rains all week!”

“Won’t last that long, more’s the pity,” Lewrie said, getting up to pad to the balcony for a look, then returning. “We’ll be back at sea in a day or two. Gone for a fortnight, perhaps. About that,” he added, getting back in bed, up by the headboard near her. “When I do sail, on the rare off-chance, I’ve made arrangements for you if … something happens to me. Don’t look so distressed, Maddalena! It is only prudent. The branch offices of Coutts’ Bank is holding a sum for you, and a letter of instructions.
If
I don’t return, your rent will be paid for a full year beyond the six months. I already paid, and you’re t’have ten pounds a month to live on. If ye wish to take passage somewhere else, you can exchange the year’s rent for…”

She set aside her glass of wine and threw herself upon him to clutch him close and squeeze. “Do not say that, Alan! Do not tempt Fate!
Por Deus,
you give me more happiness than I know in years, so kind and generous, so gentle with me, so funny you are, so merry with me…!” She broke off in a choked sob, and he felt tears wetting her close-pressed cheek.

“Dear girl, dear girl!” he muttered, stroking her to try and ease her sudden fears. “I’ll
not
leave you in the lurch like that un-thinking, un-caring fool Hughes did. I’d do the same for you even if I suddenly got orders sendin’ me halfway round the world. I’d not sail off and just abandon you, in any case. You’re dear to me.”

He heard a quick, in-drawn breath, and knew that he’d erred badly.
Fool! Should’ve said
“becoming”,
not
already
dear!
Lewrie chid himself:
God knows what she’ll make of it, and
 …

“You are dear to me, too, Alan,” Maddalena whispered against his neck, then leaned back to look him in the eyes, sobrely for a moment, then began to beam as she took another shuddery breath. “So very dear!”

Too late!
he thought;
I’m in the quag up t’my neck!

Maddalena put her arms round his neck and kissed him, a writhing and long soul kiss with her breath growing musky again, and almost giggling deep in her throat in sheer delight of his declaration.

Oh, Hell,
Lewrie thought;
In for the penny, in for the pound
 …
and if I get her drunk enough, maybe she won’t remember in the mornin’.

She pulled him down over her, impatiently tugged the sash of her gown and parted it, then reached under the tails of his shirt to draw it upward, light fingers brushing against his re-awakening erection.

For a
very
brief moment, Lewrie considered qualifying his slip of the tongue, but decided to go with it, wondering if Maddalena’s passion could be any greater than that she’d evinced before.

“Just … let me get a, ah, umm … cundum,” he rasped.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Lastly,” Lewrie said to the assembled officers and Mids gathered aboard the transport for a final planning session, “we’ve gotten a report that there are two Spanish frigates with their yards crossed and taking provisions aboard in Cartagena. How they expect to elude our blockade’s beyond me, but one never knows, so we should be prepared for ’em, should they manage t’come out. Captain Hedgepeth?”