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Anthony asked no questions. He seized her hand and ran with her, crouching low to the ground, into the shelter of the trees. Mike raced soundlessly beside them.

“Well, that was a waste of some splendid fireworks,” Anthony declared coolly as they reached cover. “Gordon and his men did a magnificent job.”

“Aye,” Mike agreed. “We could ‘ave got five kings away under that cover.”

“Your ship,” Olivia gasped. “Wind Dancer…”

“What of her?” Anthony demanded, his calm suddenly banished.

Then almost immediately he was in command of himself. He said quietly, “Take a breath, Olivia. Tell me what you know.”

“They have stationed cannon on the headlands above Puckaster Cove, in case your ship comes into the channel.”

“Yarrow,” Mike said disgustedly.

Anthony shook his head. “You can’t blame him, Mike. I’d rather he told what he knew than risk hurt.”

“Prue wouldn’t ‘ave spoken, whatever they did,” Mike stated with the same disgust.

“That’s as may be.” Anthony was brusquely dismissive. “What else, Olivia?”

“Soldiers. In ambush on the clifftop in case you come ashore.”

“Or leave the shore,” he said with a short laugh. “On the clifftop? Are you certain?”

Olivia nodded. “That’s what they said. Anthony, what are you-”

But he had turned from them and walked away through the trees. The king’s cause was lost.

But his ship! His men! Adam, Jethro, Sam… they were his lifeblood, his family. He owed them everything he had. Wind Dancer, precious though she was, was nothing compared to his friends. And yet, to save his friends, he had to save his ship. He turned back. His expression was calm, his eyes cool and gray as a still, dawn sea.

“Sam will have left the dinghy in the cove. I can evade the ambush by taking the path from Binnel Point. It’ll bring me to the beach without going near the cliff above the cove,” he said crisply. “I’ll have a few minutes to get the dinghy into the water before they realize I’m there.”

“They’ll fire on you,” Olivia said. “When they see you pushing the dinghy out, they’ll fire on you.”

“Once he’s hoisted sail, the master can outmaneuver anyone,” Mike said. “He did summat like it afore. In Tangier. They was after ‘im fer…”He stopped and coughed. “Can’t quite remember what.”

Anthony gave him an ironical smile. “How discreet you are, Mike.”

“Oh, I don’t care if you’d invaded the sultan’s harem,” Olivia exclaimed. “I only want to know if it worked.”

“I am here.” Anthony bowed, his eyes gleaming with that reckless light that she now knew so well. “Here and… uh… intact, as I’m sure you can vouch for.”

“So it was the sultan’s… oh, why must you joke at such a time?”

“Because, my flower, there is always time to laugh. And laughter calms the nerves.” He touched her cheek in habitual fashion and in habitual fashion she leaned her face into his palm. His eyes grazed hers.

“What of Wind Dancer?” she said urgently. “Once they see you, they’ll certainly fire the cannon at her, if they haven’t already destroyed her.”

The light disappeared from his eyes. “I learned long ago not to anticipate disaster; it’s a waste of energy. Jethro will know what to do until I can take command.” Anthony turned for his horse. “Mike, escort Olivia home and then go home yourself. Wind Dancer will make sail for France as soon as I’m aboard her. We’ll return to the chine in a month or so and-”

“Beggin‘ yer pardon, master, but I’m not goin’ to leave you. Ye’ll need ‘elp pushin’ the dinghy off. Besides, I go where Wind Dancer goes.”

Anthony hesitated beside his horse, one hand on the pommel, the other holding the reins. He spoke to Olivia, who had gone to Grayling. “Can you find your own way home?”

“That’s a stupid, if not an insulting, question. I found my own way here, of course I could find my way home. But I’m not going home.”

Anthony had mounted his horse. “What do you mean?”

Olivia spoke slowly and clearly. “I mean that if my father’s men are in ambush above the beach, and I am down on the beach with you, pushing you and your boat out, they are not going to shoot.”

“They’ll recognize Miss on the beach,” Mike said as he took the point.

“Exactly. If my father’s not there, the men are bound to be under Giles Crampton’s command. He’ll recognize me immediately.” She grabbed Grayling’s mane, jumped, and hauled herself across the mare’s back, scrambling herself astride, scrunching her skirts beneath her.

“And just how are you intending to explain that to your father?” Anthony demanded.

“That’s my problem,” she said. “Like you, I make my own decisions, and I accept their consequences.” She flung his own words back at him with a certain satisfaction. “My commitments are my affair, Mr. Caxton.”

It was dark among the trees but she could see his eyes flare, his fine mouth harden. “Don’t you dare follow me, Olivia,” he said with a low-voiced ferocity that she had never heard from him before. “Come, Mike.” He turned and galloped his horse out onto the downs.

Mike gave her a little shrug of resignation and followed.

Chapter Twenty-one

Olivia kicked Grayling’s flanks and pursued them. The castle was still in an uproar, fires hurling flames into the darkness, gunpowder exploding in rhythmic succession.

Olivia kept the men in view but stayed well back. She didn’t know if Anthony was aware that she was following, but she didn’t care. Everything seemed very clear to her now. At some point in this wild night, the emotional turmoil of the last weeks had smoothed out, the maelstrom had become a millpond. She didn’t question herself or what she was about to do. And she wasn’t going to waste time and mental energy on discussing her epiphany with Anthony.

It was half an hour later when Anthony and Mike drew rein on the clifftop. It was a place unfamiliar to Olivia. And it was deserted, the only sound the occasional mew of a gull. The crescent moon shone on the quiet sea and there was the sense that the world held its breath. Anthony and Mike dismounted and Olivia brought Grayling up to them.

Anthony looked at her. “Why?” The single word cracked like a pistol shot.

“Because you need my help,” Olivia said simply, swinging down from her horse. Her legs quivered after her two long rides, and she had to stiffen her knees when she stood on the ground. “Where are we?”

It was Mike who answered her. “Binnel Point, miss.” He went to the very edge of the cliff and, kneeling, pulled aside a thick patch of undergrowth. Olivia saw a pale trail, barely thicker than a hand’s span, creeping downward through the undergrowth. It reminded her of the path she had taken to the wrecker’s beach. Such a short time ago, and yet it felt like someone else’s lifetime.

“We takes the path, miss. It winds a good bit along the cliff afore goin‘ through an ’ole in the cliff just above the beach at Puckaster Cove.”

“So we avoid the ambush on the clifftop.”

“That is certainly the hope,” Anthony said dryly. He took her shoulders in a hard grip. “I do not need you, Olivia, do you understand that?”

“Well, you see, I think you do,” she responded. She reached up and put her hands over his. “Should we not go now? Every minute we wait, the ship is in danger.”

“I do not need you to remind me of that,” he declared, his frustration obvious in eyes and voice.

“Then let us go.” She broke free of his grasp and headed for the cliff path where Mike stood. She felt a powerful burst of exhilaration, the same she had felt whenever she and the pirate went adventuring.

Anthony overtook her. “Stay behind Mike,” he instructed her. “When we get to the beach, you will stay on the path. You can see everything, but you will not be seen. Understand that, Olivia. You will not show yourself. I have no need of your help, and you will only hinder me. I’m not going to lose my ship for some childish impulse of yours.”