A Safe Haven Read online




  A Safe Haven

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Publisher’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Copyright

  This book contains views and language on nationality, sexual politics, ethnicity, and society which are a product of the time in which the book is set. The publisher does not endorse or support these views. They have been retained in order to preserve the integrity of the text.

  Chapter 1

  1763

  The elegant, sprawling house on Sussex Downs was alive with noise, laughter, and music on that romantic mid-June evening, for the Endor House annual banquet and ball had been arranged this year to coincide with Sarah Huxley’s twenty-first birthday. The musicians in the gallery of the Great Hall nearby had played discreetly throughout the evening, their sounds almost drowned out by the exuberance of the house-guests.

  Lord Endor rose to his feet with difficulty after the gargantuan meal, his round face even more flushed than usual. The general chatter dwindled away as the toastmaster called for silence.

  Lord Endor smiled indulgently at the guests in their jewels and gorgeous attire, some resplendent in lace ruffles and powdered wigs, the décolleté gowns of the ladies putting a gleam even in his old eyes. He smiled most particularly at his ward, Sarah, and managed to ignore the feeling of irritation he felt toward his son, Jonas, for not pressing the lovely young widow to be his wife before this important evening. It would have been such a splendid announcement to make.

  He brushed aside the uneasy thought that in marrying his ward off to what would surely turn out to be a most unsuitable husband, he was thinking more of his own ends than hers. Sarah’s stronger character would be a useful blessing to curb Jonas’s fecklessness. A wife might be all the steadying the boy needed.

  ‘Friends, will you all please join me in a toast to our lovely Sarah,’ he stated instead. ‘I’m sure there’s no gallant gentleman here today who would argue that she’s the loveliest gal in the room—’

  ‘Uncle Thomas, please!’ Sarah exclaimed from her place of honor at his side, uncomfortable at such public praise.

  ‘Father’s right, Sarah!’ Jonas spoke up loudly, bold with wine. ‘The poets have written sonnets about eyes as blue as yours, and lips as ruby red!’

  His words were laughed into silence. None of them took Jonas very seriously, to Lord Endor’s secret chagrin. The young man acted like a spoiled child, and it infuriated him to know that Endor House would eventually be left in his keeping.

  Again, he mused on the prospect of Jonas having a spirited wife like Sarah by his side… a wife who had been left widowed at the tender age of seventeen, after a brief marriage to an elderly husband who had left her penniless once his gambling depts had been paid, and grateful to return to the protection of her adoptive family.

  ‘Uncle, please keep this short,’ Sarah spoke urgently. ‘You’re embarrassing me!’

  Lord Endor took pity on her and patted her hand, the costly rings glittering on his pudgy fingers.

  ‘Sarah’s asked me to be brief, my friends, so brief it shall be. Will you all please rise and drink the health of my dear ward, who has been all the daughter I could ever want.’

  Silks and satins rustled and chairs scraped back as the guests rose for the toast. When they were seated once more, Sarah got to her feet. She wasn’t enjoying being the center of all this attention, even though she had the composure to carry it off, but she intended to say what she had prepared. At her nod, the toastmaster called for silence again.

  ‘Uncle Thomas, I have a little speech of my own,’ she announced.

  Her voice was soft and lilting. She had planned this moment, but was suddenly nervous. She was a slim, lovely figure, her widowhood giving her a certain piquancy in many eyes. She was still young enough to wear her hair tumbling down her back, caught at the sides with gleaming Spanish combs, her cream satin gown fitting her gentle curves perfectly, the glowing topaz necklace that was Lord Endor’s birthday gift to her lying like golden fire against her smooth throat.

  ‘I want to thank Uncle Thomas publicly for all the care he’s given me since I was three years old. When Aunt Blanche was alive, she was like a mother to me, and I’ve been fortunate indeed to have been loved by such devoted people. My cousin Jonas has been more like a dear brother to me, and of course I love and honor Aunt Lily, too. Their support since my husband died has been my mainstay. I ask you to raise your glasses with me to my family, and to the memory of Aunt Blanche.’

  None could fail to admire the simple dignity and presence of the young woman. When she finished speaking Lord Endor announced that the formalities were over, and they must all leave the banqueting hall for the dancing. He leaned across and kissed Sarah lightly on the cheek, breathing in her subtle perfume.

  ‘Thank you, dear girl. I have only one objection to your charming words.’

  ‘I didn’t offend you, did I, Uncle? It was not my intention to do so.’

  ‘No, no. It was just your reference to Jonas being like a brother to you, when you know very well it has become my dearest wish that the two of you marry. ’Tis time enough for you to have looked elsewhere for a husband, my love, and with his elegance and your beauty, the two of you would take England by storm!’

  And with her common sense and maturity, she might yet make a man of Jonas, Lord Endor thought keenly. It was to his credit that he had not considered his own son for marriage to Sarah when she first became so eminently marriageable. But now, time was no longer on his side, and he had a wish to see grandchildren before he died.

  Sarah laughed, having heard these words too often lately to take them seriously, but with no intention of leaving him in any doubt as to her feelings.

  ‘Uncle Thomas, you’re not dealing with an impressionable seventeen-year-old now. You can no longer manipulate me into marriage!’ She spoke teasingly to take the sting out of her words, but there was a gleam in her eyes that told him she meant exactly what she said.

  ‘You’re fond of Jonas, aren’t you?’ Endor demanded.

  ‘Fond, yes—’ her voice trailed away as her uncle’s attention was diverted by a group of guests who called to him from across the room.

  Sarah, thankful for the interruption, mused on her uncle’s question. ‘Fond’ was not the feeling she expected to feel for the man of her dreams. Fondness was an eternity away from being so much in love it made the stomach churn as if filled with dancing butterflies. Even though she had been married and widowed, Sarah was fully aware that she had not experienced that feeling yet. At seventeen, she had gone dutifully to the marriage bed with Angus Huxley, but now she was twenty-one and a woman in every sense of the word, and she was still romantic enough and confident enough to know that someday she would find true love.

  Aunt Blanche had guessed how much Sarah dreamed… but Aunt Blanche had died soon after Angus Huxley, when Sarah still needed her support. Lord Endor’s sister, Lily, had come to live with the family and to be his hostess. Aunt Lily was warm-hearted and kind, but none of them ever guessed how often Sarah sat by her bedroom window, listening to the rush of the s
ea, and wondering what was to become of her.

  So many nights she sat watching the beautiful night sky, seeing the glint of silver from the moonlit waves that stretched away into the English Channel, away to distant shores, from the vantage point of the lovely old house high above the cliffs.

  Perhaps only Aunt Blanche had had some inkling about Sarah’s mixed feelings about the sea. She loved it for itself and its ever-changing mystery, and sometimes felt inexplicably drawn to it. She hated it for drowning her parents, whom she could barely remember now. The generous Endors, her parents’ oldest friends, had gladly taken in the small girl, and brought her up as their own.

  As a small child, everything about her new surroundings had been magical to Sarah. The quaint old town and fish market at Hastings, and the surrounding countryside with the great hills ablaze with yellow gorse each spring; the ancient castle and network of caves below the cliffs, about which tales of smugglers, true and fanciful, abounded.

  All of this added to the young girl’s romantic dreams of a lover who would one day come and sweep her off her feet, even if it was to a very different life than the luxurious one in which she now lived. Sarah could never imagine Jonas Endor as her lover. He was her cousin, and would always seem so, despite the fact that they were not related by blood.

  Returning his attention to Sarah, Lord Endor momentarily forgot his own dream of uniting his son and his ward in marriage, as he escorted her into the Great Hall. It was late in the evening now, and the room glittered with a thousand candle lights that reflected the sparkling jewelry of the guests. He patted her hand.

  ‘We won’t speak of it again tonight, Sarah. Come, let me lead you into the first dance, as an old man’s right.’

  Sarah was drawn onto the dancing space and into the procession of dancers. She was whirled from hand to hand, her skirts rustling in a shimmer of cream silk, her breath quickening as the momentum increased. The room grew hot, and the tall windows at the far end of the room were opened to cool the air. In mid-June, with the heat of the day still lingering, the added exertions of the dance made even the most delicate English skins glow and perspire.

  Sarah was glad when the cavorting ended, and even more thankful to see Jonas engaged in conversation with other young ladies. She cooled her warm face with a mother-of-pearl fan, and the elderly matrons seated nearby commented on the beautiful necklace around her throat.

  Apart from her wedding ring, which convention decreed she still display, it was the only jewelry she wore tonight, and therefore had even more dramatic impact. Sarah touched the topaz stones with a slender finger, a soft smile curving her lips.

  ‘Uncle Thomas gave it to me. It’s the loveliest thing I’ve ever owned,’ she said with the disarming honesty people found so enchanting.

  ‘And the costliest, I’ll wager,’ one of the ladies said candidly. ‘I hope you’ve a safe place to keep it, my dear. You’ll have heard the rumors that the pirate ship has been sighted around these waters this past week, I’m sure!’

  ‘I hardly think pirates will venture inland to the great houses of England, will they, Lady Farlane? Their sport is plundering vessels at sea,’ Sarah said calmly.

  ‘Not all of them,’ Lady Farlane replied dryly. ‘Besides, who could call Black Robbie an ordinary pirate? None can predict what he will do. I’ve heard that he resorts to cruelty to any crewman who disobeys him, and as for tales of his prowess with the ladies – you’ll forgive me for mentioning it, my dear, but you have been married and know what I’m talking about. One wonders if the pirate is superhuman in certain respects!’

  ‘Really, Lady Farlane!’ Sarah’s clear blue eyes were full of laughter. The dowager lady was renowned for being outspoken, especially when the topic was a little risqué. It was said that the older she became, the less she cared for drawing-room finesse, to the delight of her listeners.

  ‘Anyway, how can anyone with such a ridiculous name be taken seriously?’ Sarah retorted.

  Lady Farlane pursed her rouged lips.

  ‘Oh, ’tis the newspapers and the excisemen who’ve dubbed him Black Robbie, on account of his thick black hair and dark skin. There’s some that say he’s really the son of a gentleman. No one knows his true identity, d’you see?’

  ‘I see that you love a spicy bit of gossip!’ Sarah chuckled, and turned reluctantly when Jonas Endor demanded to know when she was going to dance with him.

  ‘What was that old biddy saying to make you look so animated?’ he asked as they moved into the line of dancers.

  ‘Is that any way to speak of one of your father’s guests?’

  ‘It’s true, and you know it!’ Jonas was unrelenting.

  ‘We were discussing Black Robbie,’ Sarah said quickly, not wishing to comment on her uncle’s guests while Jonas was in this belligerent mood.

  ‘That scum! His name should be banned from decent society! Especially as—’ he stopped abruptly, and Sarah’s interest quickened at once. She knew Jonas too well.

  ‘You know something, don’t you, Jonas? Tell me! I know you like to play detective—’

  ‘All right, I’ve been doing some delving, since his name seems to be cropping up so often. It seems he was once a respected privateer, working for the government. Some even hint at noble parentage, but I doubt that.’ He was scornfully dismissive. ‘When the need for privateers ended, his greed apparently got the better of him and he turned to piracy. He should be hung, drawn and quartered.’

  Jonas was still bleating when the dance ended. It was rare for him to become so affected. The pirate’s undoubted charisma, as reported in lurid accounts in the newspapers, made many a young man think his own life was deadly dull by comparison. Sarah had never suspected that Jonas might feel the same way. She couldn’t really believe it now. Jonas had everything, wealth, possessions, a secure heritage… and a sulky and envious nature, especially with regard to gentlemen more dashing than himself.

  ‘I’m sure Black Robbie will get his just deserts, Jonas. When he’s captured—’

  ‘If he’s captured. I’ll swear he has a charmed life. If his friends don’t protect him, his women do. No one ever betrays him. He’s a man without honor, and even the name of his ship, The Adventuress, is an insult to all God-fearing folk.’

  Sarah sighed. Jonas could be unbearably pompous at times. He was barely five years older than she, but sometimes he seemed stodgily middle-aged. He had no need to work, for he would inherit all his father’s lands and title, yet Sarah suspected his restless mind could be put to better use than to lord it about the Sussex countryside.

  Abruptly, he offered to fetch them both some fruit cup, and Sarah wandered to the far end of the room where the windows were open, and the blissfully cool night air wafted in. The distant chimes from a country church could be heard. It was midnight, the witching hour… she gave a small shiver as that thought spun through her mind.

  * * *

  When she had been by herself for some moments, she became aware of a commotion at the other end of the Great Hall, of small screams from the ladies, and sudden shouts of alarm from the gentlemen. And before she could gather her wits, it seemed as though the Great Hall suddenly swarmed with uninvited visitors. It happened in an instant, and the candle-flames nearest the windows blew out in the cold draft. The air was filled with their pungent smell, the end of the Great Hall plunged into sudden gloom.

  Lord Endor was elbowing his way through the startled guests, toward Sarah.

  ‘What’s happening?’ she said in alarm, as the crush of people jostled her.

  ‘Blessed if I know m’dear, but I’m hanged if I’ll have folk coming in unannounced,’ he said furiously. They both pushed against the tide of people, as utter panic seemed to prevail.

  ‘It’s vagabonds, set on a night’s free lodging,’ a lady screeched.

  ‘More likely to be cutthroats, intent on murder. We’ll be sliced from ear to ear.’

  And then someone shrieked a name that stopped Sarah’s heart for a second,
to send it racing on crazily the next.

  ‘It’s Black Robbie and his pirates! They’ve started plundering ashore!’

  Sarah wished desperately that she could see properly. She cursed her inadequate height at that moment, and the melee all around her. Where was Jonas? Gone to fetch a pistol, perhaps, but what use would one pistol be against a band of pirates? Her heart thudded sickeningly at the thought.

  ‘We’re all going to be murdered!’ Lady Farlane had lost all her aplomb now, and was clutching Sarah’s arm, weeping openly, her powder and rouge streaking down her cheeks. ‘Hide yourself, my love, while there’s time!’

  ‘I’ll do no such thing!’ Sarah said angrily. She burned with rage that this should happen at her birthday ball, to spoil this lovely occasion. ‘What right does this pirate have to play havoc with our lives? I’m not afraid of him!’

  ‘Well said, my lovely! It looks as though I’ve met my match at last!’

  A strong male voice with a faint Scots burr spoke right beside her. Sarah spun round to stare at the tall, powerfully built man, with a red kerchief tied round his head and another like a cummerbund around his waist. He wore a loose-fitting shirt and leather trousers, and he looked down at her as if he owned the world and everything in it.

  Sarah took in his garb in an instant, but it was the man himself who took her breath away. If this was Black Robbie, and undoubtedly it was, then he was nothing like she had imagined. She had assumed he would be old and ugly and thick-set. But this man could be no more than thirty years old, and he was hypnotically handsome, his skin darkly tanned by the hot sun of southern climes.

  She took a deep breath, her anger overcoming fear. Her blue eyes blazed into his.

  ‘How dare you intrude on decent folks’ lives—’

  ‘That’s right,’ a brave voice echoed nearby. ‘Especially on Sarah’s birthday—’

  The pirate looked amused, his gaze sweeping over Sarah in one hot movement in the gloom of the Great Hall.

  ‘Your birthday, is it? And what better night to come calling on a pretty maid?’