She stepped out from behind the screen, the dress unbuttoned in the back, still covering her shoulders. “I need help to undo the stays.”
Edward fumbled with the laces, releasing her chest from bondage. His fingers brushed the warm, smooth skin of her back just visible under the chemise. She shivered. Still clutching the dress over her breasts, she hurried back behind the screen. Yards of fabric rustled and she tossed it over the curtained supports, blocking out her silhouette.
He imagined her bending to unbutton her shoes, slipping off pantalets, then releasing the garters. Off would come her stockings, one-by-one. Or would she have him help with those as well?
She emerged wearing only a white linen shift. Her curves draped in the translucent fabric obliterated all reluctance in the vortex of desire. He walked toward her, shedding his boots, socks, and shirt. Bare-chested, he took her into his arms and ran his hands up and down her back. He kissed her gently on the mouth, and then down her neck. She stroked his face with both hands and tilted back her head to give him more room.
Edward stopped for a moment to undo his trousers. A far cry from the tavern girls who could make a sailor blush, Elisabeth hid under the covers. He kept his back turned to shield his naked erection from her view. When they finally lay, face-to-face, he reached up and removed the combs from her hair, until the burnt cinnamon tresses tumbled around her shoulders. Edward curled the fragrant strands around his fingers, cradled her head in his hands, and kissed her on the lips. Her mouth opened slightly, and their tongues touched. He nibbled down her neck toward her breasts, and she sighed.
“Don’t be afraid, Elisabeth. Just relax next to me. The rest will come naturally.” He fumbled with the buttons on her chemise. She trembled as he stroked her breasts, brushing both palms over the erect, pink buds.
Elisabeth traced his face and neck, and then ran her hands down his back. She cupped his bottom and drew him closer. Her fingertips on his skin, the delicious firmness of her nipples in his mouth, and the smell of lavender quickened his breath. Hard, throbbing, he thought of nothing else but being inside her.
She shuddered when he moved his hands down over her delicious curves, then up under the shift. He’d known she was petite, yet she seemed even smaller and more delicate now.
Elisabeth tensed. Her soft sighs turned into short gasps of fear.
He massaged her back until she relaxed. Edward eased his hand between her thighs and tousled the downy hair until the folds beneath moistened. Her legs parted, and he settled himself against her mound. Waiting for a sign she was ready, he struggled to hold himself back.
“Will it hurt?” she asked.
“If it does, we’ll stop.” He gentled her with his fingers.
She let him inside and moaned, which could have been either pleasure or pain. She lay still, holding her breath.
He tasted salty tears on her cheeks and thrust as slowly as he could. Terrified of impregnating her, he withdrew just before his release. She opened her eyes only after he kissed the lids.
Edward moving ever so gently, kissed her neck, and stroked from her nipples to her mound. Surprise spread over Elisabeth’s face as her body tightened and trembled.
Though wanting more, he knew scaring or hurting her now would ruin things for the rest of their lives. She laid her head on his shoulder.
“Was it difficult?” he asked.
“It just hurt for a moment.” Her breaths were rapid, but the tension had drained from her face.
“It only gets better, my love. Rest now.”
The knock of the waiter bringing dinner aroused them from a delightful afternoon nap.
Chapter 9
The second time, Elisabeth anticipated pleasure, not pain. Instead of feeling torn up inside, her body yielded to accommodate him. Even more glorious was curling up next to him after the intensity of the release. No one, not even her mother, had ever made her feel so safe and protected.
His firm, muscular body pressed against her, and his arms held her close. His maleness: the tickle of beard against her neck, body hair that rippled as her fingers and toes ran over it, and his throbbing, searching member pressing against, and inside her was as pleasing as the touch of his work-roughened hands, even on the most sensitive parts of her body.
The female hands that had touched her before were rough and hurried, jerking while lacing her into a corset or tugging while combing her hair. Edward undid each lace and removed each comb gently, carefully. Mama had been wrong, or perhaps had just married the wrong man.
A tingle of excitement, and of anxious anticipation rose from her core. Her scandalous curiosity, and the desire to see and touch his body seemed to delight him. They had a lifetime to discover the secrets of pleasuring each other, but only one more day together before he sailed.
When she awoke the next morning, he was already up and dressed, watching her sleep. Elisabeth got out of bed under his longing, dreamy-eyed gaze and drew a robe over her against the chill. There was a soft knock at the door. Edward concealed himself behind the dressing room screen.
“Good morning, my lady.” Katherine stepped in and glanced side-to-side, as if afraid she might see something she shouldn’t. “Do you need anything?”
“Good morning, Katherine. Edward and I are waiting for breakfast.”
“The countess inquired about you. I told her you were feeling poorly last evening. She hopes you’ll be able to visit the dressmaker’s salon today.”
“I think you should keep to your original plans, Elisabeth.” Edward stepped out from behind the curtains. “So as not to arouse any suspicions.”
“Are you sure, Edward?” Elisabeth’s stomach churned. They had so little time left, and he was sending her away?
“He took her hand. We can’t stay locked up here for two days. I have some business to do in preparation for tomorrow. This sounds like a perfect solution. I’ll be back in time for supper.”
“I’ll set out your clothes while you wash,” Katherine said.
There was another knock at the door. “Breakfast,” the waiter called.
Edward jumped back behind the screen. Katherine opened the door and took the trolley.
After pouring tea, she ensured the pitcher in the dressing area was full and laid out towels, Elisabeth’s undergarments, and a dress.
“Good morning, Lady Elisabeth!” The tone of voice was as insistent as the knock.
“One moment, Your Grace.” Elisabeth’s heart leaped to her throat.
Katherine ran to the door and gestured to Edward. He slid under the bed and grabbed the coverlet off the side to hide himself from view.
She opened the door. The countess rushed in. Elisabeth sat frozen in front of her breakfast, still in a nightdress and robe. Horrified, she noticed Edward’s clothes lying where he’d shed them the evening before.
“Are you all right, my dear? Your mama trusts me to look after you as she would. When I learned you were ill, I became quite concerned. Have you eaten?”
Katherine noted the pile of men’s clothing and quickly scooped it up.
Elisabeth took a breath and dabbed the perspiration off her face and neck. “Yes. I’m a bit better. My monthly, you know.”
“Of course, my dear.” She patted Elisabeth’s shoulder. “Rather unfortunate timing with the fittings and all. I will give your regrets to madame and monsieur.”
“Katherine has already set out my things. I will join you.” Elisabeth looked directly at her, which kept the dowager’s gaze off the floor.
“Marvellous. I shall see you at the salon at one then. Rest a bit.” The countess picked up the coverlet that lay on the floor. She fingered the sheets, and her face contorted into a sneer. The tips of her shoes were mere inches from Edward. He was out of sight, but Elisabeth feared the worst.
Katherine acco
mpanied the countess to the door. “Don’t trouble yourself, Your Grace. I’ll see to the linens.”
“Yes, do so. They’re soiled. Be well, my dear Elisabeth.” With her nose high in the air, she swept out.
As the door closed behind her, Katherine gathered the sheets, her cheeks once again the colour of a crimson rose. Edward slid out the opposite side of the bed, his eyes wide.
Elisabeth burst into tears from a combination of relief and embarrassment. The afterglow of last night’s intimacies vanished. Her bottom ached and dried perspiration coated her skin.
“There, there, my lady. I’ll do my best to warn you if she’s coming, but the countess is rather unpredictable.” Katherine helped her into a chair, arranged her hair, then fled the room, a huge bundle in her arms.
Edward exhaled as he slid out from hiding and sat to finish his breakfast. He reached across the table and stroked her hands. “I’ll need to get used to being in the company of women.”
Elisabeth dabbed her eyes with the napkin. Reality pierced her like a knife. In twenty-four hours, Edward would be gone. She was married, but would have to pretend otherwise for a very long time. After a taste of the delicious forbidden fruit, she’d have to wait a year, perhaps more, for another bite. Would Edward seek solace elsewhere during that time? He’d warned her it would be difficult, but this was the only way. Unless . . .
She leaped up and kneeled next to his chair, her hands on his lap “Edward, I can’t go back home now, thinking about you all day and night and not be able to see you, hear your voice, or touch you.”
He took her face in his hands and his fingers tousled her hair. “Elisabeth, I have to build a house, and pay for it. I couldn’t even afford to buy you a proper wedding gift.”
“I don’t need any gifts or a fancy house, just to be with you.” How would she endure her father, mother, and the constant parade of suitors when she had already given her body and soul to this man?
“Soon we’ll be together, able to come and go as we please, as husband and wife. And we still have one night.” He stood and helped her to her feet before enfolding her in his arms.
Elisabeth buried her face in his shoulder. “Edward, I had to think of an excuse quickly. I’m sorry.” Bloodied sheets were not a topic for polite conversation. Mama would have been horrified. But she was a married woman now and only his opinion of her mattered.
He eased away and looked into her eyes. “You were brilliant, Elisabeth. Come now, I was raised on a farm. These matters are no mystery to me. Today, I’ll spend some time preparing my ship and crew so I can stay longer tomorrow. Sit. Eat.” He held her chair then took his own seat.
He’d been nothing but kind and patient with her. Elisabeth finished her breakfast and stopped to kiss Edward’s cheek on her way to wash and dress. There was no way she could let him leave without her. She had one more night to convince him.
Edward paused, then ascended the gangplank. Maybe he should take Elisabeth back to Massachusetts with him now instead of waiting until the house was built. But the thought of her in cramped quarters on rough seas, and the task of finding a place for her to stay before he had to sail again seemed daunting.
He caught a few crew members congregating on the foredeck. Ropes that should have been neatly coiled had been commanded as chairs, now angled like a nest of giant snakes. The boards stank from spilled beer and whiskey. A tart’s cackle emerged from behind a dory, its bottom turned outward to provide a private romp for whomever cared to partake of her wares.
The sailors leaped to their feet, and to attention, though their filthy clothes and bare feet rendered them far from fit for duty. Fury infused him with strength, and Edward righted the small boat. It crashed to the deck, arousing the few sailors still dozing in the morning sunshine and catapulting the woman, dress dangling off her shoulders and hiked up over her bum, onto the teak. She slithered out of sight behind a hatch on her hands and knees while her paramour jumped up, trying to tie the drawstring on his pants at the same time.
“I’ve been gone for no more than a few hours and come back to this? You’re on shore leave, but surely by now you know not to bring your revelry aboard my ship. Mr. Vauxhall, where are you?” Edward rang the bell furiously, bringing the better-behaved members of the crew from below decks like bees from a hive. The first mate was not among them.
The cook, in his apron, still held a slotted spoon. “Aye, Captain. Mr. Vauxhaull went ashore to post a letter to Mr. Somersell in Massachusetts, advising him of our schedule, sir.”
Vauxhall had to have seen this before he left. “Clean up this mess, and yourselves. I’ll toss overboard anyone who is not on deck and at attention tomorrow at dawn, sober, clean . . .” No one dared laugh as the tart hurried behind him and down the plank. “. . . and alone.”
A chorus of “Aye, Sir” failed to quiet Edward’s misgivings. A captain belonged on his ship else he’d lose control. Any lingering thoughts of bringing Elisabeth with him to Massachusetts vanished. That would require far more preparation—and schooling—than he had time for now.
Edward went to his cabin without another word. He arranged his charts and plotted out their course back to Boston Harbour. A tap on the door brought Edward out of his thoughts. “Captain?”
“Enter, Mr. Vauxhall. I suppose you’ve discovered what transpired in your absence?” He trusted his first mate to be in control, but a captain had the ultimate responsibility to keep order and belonged on his ship.
“All was quiet when I left earlier today, Captain. I apologize for their lack of discipline. “Go back to your bride. I’ll be here keeping watch until you return tomorrow. We are ready to pull anchor and depart. Goods secure, water and provisions stocked, manifest posted.”
Vauxhall’s good nature and efficiency calmed, but did not alleviate Edward’s fears. “They’re to be lined up on deck at first light awaiting my arrival.”
“Aye, sir. Don’t worry.” Vauxhall backed out and closed the cabin door.
Edward sat on his bed and swept a hand over the rumpled coverlet. He still worried. It concealed but could not hide the thin mattress below. By the end of the voyage, the ship smelled like unwashed bodies and rotting food. He had much to do before he’d dare to bring his wife aboard, if that would ever be possible. He dug the linen handkerchief out of his pocket, spread it over his desk, and rested a compass on top. The scent of lavender filled the room. That would have to suffice as a reminder of what he’d left behind—and what he needed to do.
Edward locked his door. Footsteps and creaking wood were the only sounds on the deserted lower decks. He needed to be here, to be in charge, but his new wife was waiting for him. The men on the top deck stopped their mopping and straightened to salute. Edward didn’t respond as he walked down the plank and back to the hotel. He ached to buy Elisabeth something, but nothing he could afford struck his fancy.
She was pacing in the room when he returned, even though it was well before dinner.
“I expected you much sooner, Edward. It was unbearable, trying on all those gowns, making meaningless talk while thinking about you. You’ve been gone almost all day.” She pursed her lips into a pout and dabbed away tears.
“I had quite a bit of commanding to do, Elisabeth. I put the ship’s departure on hold, and the men are quite restless.” Her naiveté was normally endearing but in the face of wondering what he’d find on his arrival tomorrow morning grated on already jangled nerves. Still, she was the one being left to deal with an abusive father who, not if but when he discovered his daughter had eloped, would spare no effort to have it undone.
He was the lucky one, sailing off to leave the mess for someone else to tidy up. Edward dearly wished he had at least bought her a bouquet. He was leaving at dawn, and she must understand their lives would always be like this, with many comings and goings. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t warned her and
now, after their vows had been consummated, it was too late for regrets.
Elisabeth settled into his arms and pressed against him. He unbuttoned the back of her dress, then withdrew the pins allowing that magnificent mane of hair fell over her shoulders. It shielded her breasts, which peeked like rosebuds through the chemise.
“I have to work to provide for you. And for a family, I hope.” He wanted to make love and not waste time fighting about the inevitable.
She peeled back his shirt and ran her fingertips over his bare chest. As he slipped off his trousers, she regarded him with wide eyes and an expression somewhere between shock and great interest.
She kept her eyes open this time and explored his body with her hands, continuing the process of discovery. Swallowed in her embrace, he couldn’t bring himself to withdraw in time. While caressing her to release, he worried about his lapse. I will not let that happen again. God be with us, please don’t let her conceive.
The morning came far too fast. He untangled himself and paused for a moment to watch her sleep, memorizing the feel of her body, and soaking the fragrance of her hair and skin into his nostrils.
Elisabeth awoke and leaped out of bed. She put on the same drab traveling dress she’d worn for their wedding. “I’m going with you, Edward.” Without waiting for a response, she began stuffing things into a trunk.
“No, you can’t.” Exactly the scenario he’d expected. Now he had to convince her of that and get to his ship on time, else lose more of his authority.
He led her away from the trunk and kissed the tears away. “I promise to call for you as soon as I make the arrangements. Misgivings from the night before lingered. “Go to Edmond’s house in Berkshire if things become unbearable. Write me in care of Somersell shipping at least once a month. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume there is a problem and return.”
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