Smuggler's Lair by Virginia Henley

the Sussex coast. I believe I wounded their leader.”
    â€œYou shot one of them? Good work, captain. What about their ship? Did you sink it? I thought I heard cannon fire that night.”
    â€œWe sighted no ship, my lord.”
    â€œMarauders without a ship?”
    â€œThey rowed out from shore in a boat.”
    â€œYou fired cannon at a fishing boat and missed?”
    â€œThe crew of the Boulogne fired the cannon, Lord Hawkhurst. I was armed with only my sword.”
    Suddenly, a female screamed and others gasped with alarm. Then a hush descended as all eyes turned toward the arched doorway. The goddess of the hunt made her grand entrance into the chamber. A leopard on a long, silver ribbon stalked before her.
    All the guests, of course, had heard rumors of Pandora, Hawkhurst’s pet leopard, but none had expected to come face-to-face with the beast. They backed away as Victoria slowly walked around the perimeter of the room. She made a deep curtsy to King Charles and then without a word she arose and departed. A babble of excited voices filled the chamber, drowning out the music.
    â€œI’ll take that drink now, my lord,” Drudge declared. His voice revealed his inner agitation. “Make it a double.”
    Tory deliberately made herself the center of attention. She did it for me . . . and just at the right moment.
    By the time the captain of the militia had finished his drink, Victoria returned without her hunting companion. She walked directly up to Drudge and gave him a radiant smile. “Captain, I cannot resist a man in a uniform. How would you like to play with me tonight? Cards or dice . . . whatever you desire.” Her glance lowered to his breeches and she smiled her secret smile.
    At that moment Thomas Carswell came up, removed his black hood, and asked her to dance. She saw the look of rivalry that the militia captain and the customs officer exchanged and decided to intensify the enmity. “Captain, I so love to dance. I’m sure you won’t mind waiting for me. Save me a seat at the gaming table.”
    Carswell led Tory onto the dance floor. “You are an extremely courageous young lady to handle a leopard.”
    Tory saw that Carswell was dressed as a hangman. She wondered if it was a veiled threat and decided to issue one of her own. “Pandora is quite gentle, but only with family members, of course. She guards us fiercely and would attack if either Falcon or I were ever threatened.”
    When the dance ended, Tory invited Carswell to the card table. She sat between the two rivals, who were now openly scowling at each other. “I shouldn’t play. . . . I’ve overspent my allowance and my brother will be furious if I lose any more of his money.”
    â€œIt would be my pleasure to cover your losses, Mistress Palmer.”
    â€œHow very gallant of you, Captain Drudge.” Tory picked up her cards and gave her attention to Thomas Carswell. “I warrant your job as customs officer was far more lucrative when the export of wool was illegal. I understand that port officials were offered bribes. Now that the French can get their wool from Ireland without problems, bribery has become rare.”
    Carswell stiffened. “Bribery is nonexistent, Mistress Palmer, now that I am in charge.”
    You mean the smugglers are so well organized, they don’t need to grease your palm. “Such authority—it makes a lady weak just thinking about it. I feel very protected sitting between two upright pillars of law and order whose morals are incorruptible.”
    Tory lost an ample amount of Carswell’s money and then, to be scrupulously fair, she began to lose Drudge’s silver.
    When the party was over, Falcon slipped a possessive arm around Tory and drew her close as they ascended the tower staircase to their chamber. “I hereby declare your suggestion of a masquerade a resounding success. You came down from Olympus to mingle with