ROMANTIC VENTURE

CHAPTER THREE

Alex Harper eyed his unexpected guest with steel-eyed curiosity. He knew the man, if not by sight, at least - at the very least - by reputation. Everyone had heard of the Silver Raven, for he was feared and respected throughout the world. He was of noble birth, but his exploits on the seas were worthy of the most baseborn wharf rat. On the Spanish Main, he had killed expediently, and, it was rumored, with unscrupulous dispatch. His loyal crewmen told tales that would render the Raven proof against malice and the fairest man alive. His detractors disparaged him as a barbarian. No man as yet had been willing to test either claim, and so Dominic Warbrooke remained an enigma.

In Scotland, in France, wherever danger lurked for peaceful England, Dominic Warbrooke could be counted upon to squelch an uprising or bring a would-be assassin to justice. His dauntlessness in the name of his queen was legend. And yet . . . Alex Harper quailed at the bloody tales he had heard. He was not, himself, a man of violence.

The duke of Ravenshead had, it was whispered, cut the fingers off a Thurkish sailor one by one after the man had been discovered stealing. It was whispered at court that Mary Stuart's little dwarf was stabbed to death before the eyes of his horrified mistress. Surely the hand of the Raven could be seen in that abomination.

Though his unyielding probity was held in high esteem, his brutality was horrifying. Whether rumor or truth, the bloody stories that attended his Silver presence were not to be taken lightly. Dominic Warbrooke was a man to be reckoned with.

Alex Harper watched as Warbrooke strode confidently toward him and wondered at the advisability of sheltering such a man beneath his roof. And yet, the message that had preceded him and had come directly from the queen had been clear. She wanted the two men to meet and discuss a matter of great urgency to the realm. Was this queen's honored champion, then, a man worthy of the respect of 'Her Majesty's' subjects? Or was he a rogue, innately capable of dealing cruel death without compunction?

The questions went unanswered as Dominic Warbrooke approached, his hand outstretched in greeting. As all eyes were upon the Crown's most handsome, feared, and favored knight, Alex returned his greeting and indicated that the two of them should retire to a more intimate spot to converse in private. They stepped into a secluded alcove away from the prying eyes and ears of the assembled guests.

The two men were of a height and met each other with wary respect. Dominic presented his papers, and the older man accepted the parchment and loosed the queen's seal.

He gave the contents a cursory scan. Suddenly his eyes caught a particular passage, and he looked up in disbelief. Dominic had been awaiting his reaction and now eyed his host closely.

"But this is not possible," Alex said in astonishment.

"'Tis possible, my lord," Dominic said coolly.

"It says that Philip of Spain is amassing naval power and will use it against Britain." Dominic nodded. Alex read further. "It says too that he has supporters in our midst." Alex looked up once more for confirmation.

Dominic nodded. His demeanor was unperturbed. "Since the papal excommunication of our good queen, reports have come in from parishes as far off as Bangor and St. Asaph, that the Mary supporters have become bolder. The use of the rosary is widespread, my lord, and as the pope's ignoble action has absolved Her Majesty's subjects from obedience to her God-given authority, the Spanish have many supporters within our own midst. The queen has sent her royal commissioners on junkets into the provinces to quell this unholy tide, but even yet superstitious uses abound.

"More importantly, even here in London, as close to the throne as we are now, great puppets of Rome preach sedition and encourage the idolatry of images. The queen is well loved, but the supporters of Rome, and in consequence Spain, are becoming less benign and more vociferous. There is little doubt of loyalty within the Royal Navy; even now Drake sails for Cadiz to rout the privateers who pillage our shipping lanes, but Her Majesty needs special friends among the people.

"She has sent me out to speak with men who, like yourself, are loyal subjects and, as importantly, ship owners to discern whether your love of her and our country could include the commitment of guns for use in our defense."

Alex Harper had paled visibly. "There is no question of my love for Her Majesty, nor could there be of my support with every resource at my command. I do, however, find all of this difficult to imagine. The Catholic population has seemed satisfied with the current status. I have not discovered any great dissatisfaction among their number. There is no prescribed penalty for the hearing of mass, and many console themselves with the old Latin devotions in their homes. 'Tis unthinkable that these innocent numbers could rise up in support of that distant and disease-ridden old man."

"Philip is old and sadly diseased, but do not underestimate either his power or his resolve. The one is based in the greatest armada the world has ever known, and the other in the sincere belief that he has divine authority and justification." Dominic regarded Alex levelly. "Do I discern uncertainty sir?"

Alex shot his guest a riveting look. "You do not, my lord," he said evenly. "'Tis only that this information comes as tainted fish to my senses. I am appalled and bereaved to hear of disloyalty among Her Majesty's subjects. And I am angered beyond words." Alex Harper looked away from his guest and stood silent for a moment as he leashed his emotions. "I shall read the queen's message thoroughly on the morrow," he said when he felt control returning. "In the meanwhile"-he turned to Dominic and managed a relaxed demeanor-"will you accept the hospitality of my house?"

Dominic nodded slightly in acceptance. Alex regarded this audacious courtier with ill-concealed wariness. "A room has been prepared for you, Lord Warbrooke, and if you wish to retire until we meet tomorrow-"

Dominic interrupted his host. "I feel not the need for rest, but for recreation. If you will alow, I would much prefer to enjoy the present revelry."

Alex cleared his throat. "We thank you," he said after some hesitation, "for your assistance in the evening's earlier episode. The lads are lifelong playmates of my daughter and think nothing of a ribald frolic with her."

Dominic shifted his stance purposefully and arched a dark eyebrow. "The young woman, your daughter, is, I was told, eighteen," he said.

"She is," Alex answered almost defensively.

Dominic held his host in a silver gaze. "A woman of eighteen should not have men for playmates," he said pointedly.

Sir Alex regarded his guest for a long moment. His words, when they came, were spoken in a slow, even cadence and were a warning, Dominic was sure, that was much utilized by the father of a daughter as outrageously beautiful as Maurette. "I have, perforce, protected the child overmuch," he said, "and that will gain her nothing now that she is a woman grown. But 'tis done, and there is nothing for it but for me to continue my protection until I find a suitable husband for her.!"

"It will not be an easy task to find a 'suitable' husband for one so exceptional-as your daughter," Dominic said tranquilly.

"Ah, yes," sighed Alex. "Therein lies the most singular problem for a conscientious father." Alex warmed to his subject.

Dominic smiled languidly. "'Tis a heavy burden you bear," he said with no hint of mockery in his tone.

Alex shot him a wary glance. "'Tis that and more, sir," he said. "The child is willful, 'tis true, but of a gentle nature when handled with care."

"Your choice of husband must be a careful one," Dominic said, bowing his head. "The process will be a long and complicated one, I fear."

Alex Harper was a canny man and quick to assess the inclination of another. "You have children, my lord?"

Dominic lifted his gaze to his host. "I remain very happily unwed," he said quietly.

"Ah, yes," stated Alex flatly, "you must enjoy a fulfilling bachelorhood as the queen's favorite."

"At that moment; sir. I have no doubt that upon the morrow my vacant eyes within my disembodied head could easily be perusing the Thames from a spire atop London Bridge." Dominic allowed a slow smile to curve his lips. Both men knew the oft touted vagaries of Her Majesty's loyalties when it came to her courtiers.

"Those who take such things seriously find themselves the holder of blighted hopes and disillusionment and much worse. There is a younger man named Robert Devereux who even now invades Her Majesty's affections.

"In all events, our queen has sent word to Catherine de Medici that she will accept that woman's son, Francis, as a suitor. I have no reason to doubt that the duke of Alencon is as eager to usurp young Robert's influence as that young man is eager to violate my own."

Dominic paused and shook his head in sincere abrogation. "I left the sea with every intention of retiring to my estate at Ravenshead. I long, in my thirtieth year, for a quiet life." He smiled roguishly. "Women are indispensable, 'tis true, but a great deal of trouble. In all honesty, court life and its aberrations of real life defeat me at times. When this unholy business comes to an end, I shall take up my mantle as Ravenshead's master with a gladdened heart. In the mean times, I must curb my own desires in deference to our good queen's. Do not mistake me, sir," he said softly, "I accept and delight in the pulchritude that surrounds me, but I have not come to your house in search of a wife."

Alex nodded reflectively. He did not doubt his guest's sincerity, and that fact only served to make him even more wary of the man. He was but thirty and virile and aggressive in his manly needs. He bore watching, Alex decided.

At that moment, the men were joined by Lady Elaine. "If my husband will not honor me with an introduction, my lord," she said delicately, "I must perforce introduce myself."

Dominic bowed deeply. "The honor is mine, dear madam," he said with profound deference as he took her hand and kissed it devoutly.

"Please join us and our guests in the diversion of our daughter's birthday ball," she twittered and led Dominic out among the company. Elaine's inclination was clear as she offered herself for the dance. When it was done, Alex watched his wife and their guest retire to a cozy pouf near the fire. Their companionable conversation unnerved him.

The man was, by some reports, a rogue and possibly entertaining less than chivalrous thoughts concerning his beloved Maurette. He watched his wife sparkle and entertain their guest with her most practiced flirtations. She clearly saw Dominic Warbrooke as a candidate for their daughter's affection. Little did she realize, as did her husband, that the man was as likely to bow to a woman as he was to sweep her off to that far-off retreat he had spoken of and without benefit of matrimony. He could as easily, it would seem, kill a man as discuss a point of disagreement. Such a "simple" nature in a man disconcerted Alex as much as it inspired his admiration.