Read Beauvallet for Free Online Page B

sweeting. See, it is ready to your hand. A swift, sure revenge! No? What will you have me do then?’ His hands slid down her arms to her wrists; he bent, and kissed her fingers. ‘There! let it be forgot – until I kiss you again.’ That was said with a quick whimsical glance, daringly irrepressible.
    ‘That will be never, señor.’
    ‘And so she flings down her gauntlet. I pick it up, my lady, and will give you a Spanish proverb for answer: Vivir para ver! ’
    ‘You will scarcely wed me by force,’ she retorted. ‘Even you!’
    He considered the point. ‘True, child, that were too easy a course.’
    ‘I warrant you would not find it so!’
    ‘Marry, is it yet another challenge?’ he inquired.
    She drew back a pace. ‘You would not!’
    ‘Nay, have I not said I will not? Be at ease, ye shall have a royal wooing.’
    ‘And where will you woo me?’ she asked scornfully. ‘My home is in the very heart of Spain, I’d have you know.’
    ‘Be sure I shall follow you there,’ he promised, and laughed to see her face of incredulous wonder.
    ‘Braggart! Oh, idle boaster! How should you dare?’
    ‘Look for me in Spain before a year is out,’ he answered. ‘My hand upon it.’
    ‘There is a Holy Inquisition in Spain, señor,’ she reminded him.
    ‘There is, señora,’ he said rather grimly, and produced from out his doublet a book bound in leather. ‘And it is like to have you in its clutches if you keep such dangerous stuff as this about you, my lass,’ he said.
    She turned pale, and clasped her hands nervously at her bosom. ‘Where found you that?’ The breath caught in her throat.
    ‘In your cabin aboard the Santa Maria , child. If that is the mind you are in the sooner I have you safe out of Spain the better for you.’ He gave the book into her hands. ‘Hide it close, or sail with me to England.’
    ‘Do not tell my father!’ she said urgently.
    ‘Why, can you not trust me? Oh, unkind!’
    ‘I suppose it is no affair of yours, señor,’ she said, recovering her dignity. ‘I thank you for my book. Now let me pass.’
    ‘I have a name, child. I believe I made you free of it.’
    She swept a curtsey. ‘Oh, I thank you – Sir Nicholas Beauvallet!’ she mocked, and fled past him down the companion.

Four

    D ona Dominica thought it imperative that Beauvallet's impudence should be suitably punished, and took it upon herself to perform this pious office. Master Dangerfield was a tool ready to her hand; she sought him out, cast a thrall about that susceptible lad, and flirted with him, somewhat to his embarrassment. She brought her long eyelashes into play, the minx, was all honey to him, and flattered the vanity of the youthful male. She used a distant courtesy towards Beauval let, listened when he spoke to her, folded meek hands in her lap, and turned back to Master Dangerfield at the first chance. Beauvallet had stately curtseys and cool impersonalities from her; she let it be clearly seen that Dangerfield could have if he chose a hand to kiss, her smiles, and her chatter. Master Dangerfield was duly grateful, but showed a lamentable tendency to set her high upon a pedestal. At another time this might have pleased her, but she had now no mind to play the goddess. She was at pains to show Master Dangerfield that he might dare to venture a little farther.
    But all this strategy failed of its object. Dona Dominica, out of the tail of her eye, saw with indignation the frank amusement of Sir Nicholas. Beauvallet stood back and watched the play with a laughing, an appreciative eye. The lady redoubled her efforts.
    She was forced to admit Dangerfield dull sport, and chid herself for hankering after the livelier company of his General. With him one met the unexpected; there was a spice of risk to savour the game, an element of adventure to whet the appetite. She would come up with Dangerfield on the deck, stand at his side and ask him questions innumerable upon the sailing of a ship, and appear to