His head snapped up. “She’s here?”
“If you refer to a female dressed in all black and a raven-haired slip of a boy at her side, then yes, they have arrived.”
Daniel shoved from the table and stalked to the door. “I should see the passengers safely to their quarters.”
For the love of God, even Daniel had changed in New Orleans. It was as if someone had placed a voodoo curse on his betrothed and brother. Neither of them resembled the people they had been when the ship had sailed from London.
Jake made his way to an armchair that hadn’t been in Daniel’s quarters on the first leg of the voyage and plopped down. His eyes felt gritty, so he leaned his head against the seat back and closed them, listening to the noises outside. Through the jumble of voices, the haunting call of the seagulls floated in the background, soothing his ruffled temper.
A gentle breeze drifted through the open window and caressed his hot cheeks, lessening his irritation even more. The ship swayed gently back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
A loud bang startled him and Jake jumped from the chair. He glanced around, unsure where he was.
“Wake up, you pampered mama’s boy,” Daniel called from the doorway.
Jake blinked as he realized where he was and that he had indeed drifted to sleep.
The ship’s rocking was more pronounced and steady.
“We’ve lifted anchor?” Jake asked.
“Three hours past.”
Jake’s gaze landed on the windows along the ship’s aft where overgrown vines outside tried to choke out the trees and trailed toward the water. New Orleans was long behind them, it seemed.
He stretched his arms overhead and uttered a groaning sigh.
Daniel lifted a brow. “For God’s sake, Jakie, you stink. Get cleaned up. You haven’t much time.”
“Time for what?” he grumbled.
“Amelia is serving luncheon in her quarters. So, either you can make yourself presentable, or I will drag your smelly arse below deck as is. Either way, you are attending.”
“Ha, ha. You are hilarious.”
Daniel snatched a cloth from the table and threw it at him. “I’m serious about the luncheon. And consider it a favor that I advised you to wash up ahead of time. There is a basin with fresh water in the sleeping chamber.”
Jake trudged toward the door to the sleeping chambers. “But in her quarters? It’s minuscule compared to here.”
“She wishes to surprise you. Will you please get a move on it? And act surprised or else.”
Jake shrugged, the beginning of a smile pulling at his lips. He could act any way she wished.
“And don the attire laid out on my bed,” Daniel added.
Jake didn’t offer any more arguments and hurried to make himself presentable.
A few minutes later, he and Daniel stood outside Amelia’s cabin. Jake rapped harder than he intended, and the door flew open. He drew back.
A man dressed in robes stood in the doorway. Jake looked around the narrow passageway, certain he had knocked on the wrong door. He didn’t recall seeing a clergyman on the initial voyage, but he hadn’t checked under the bed either.
“Mr. Hillary, welcome. Lady Audley awaits.”
Jake spotted Amelia beyond the man’s shoulder. She wore an ivory gown with long matching gloves and stood beside a formally set table. Candlelight reflected off the gilded rims of the china plates and reflected in the crystal goblets while casting Amelia in a soft glow.
Jake’s heart expanded, filling his chest fully. She truly was his angel on earth.
Amelia extended her hand with an inviting smile. “Please, come inside.”
He passed the table set for two to reach her.
Daniel gestured toward the clergyman. “Allow me to introduce the Vicar of Trinity Church in Dunstable. Mr. Ramsey has agreed to perform the ceremony.”
“Ceremony?”
Amelia squeezed Jake’s hand and lifted her pretty face toward him. “There is nothing to impede our marriage on ship, so Captain Hillary tells me. As long as we have the vicar to officiate.”
Jake grinned, probably somewhat foolishly. “You’re far from home, Mr. Ramsey.”
“As are you,” the vicar answered. “Your brother provided me with passage many months back. Family commitments required my attention.”
Daniel shrugged. “I’d hoped Mr. Ramsey would still be in New Orleans, and that I would be able to locate him. I couldn’t be certain he’d agree to return to England, but as luck would have it, his commitments in New Orleans have ended.”
Mr. Ramsey crossed his arms over his chest. “And what a generous donation Captain Hillary has made to the Church of England to provide for my needs on the journey.” The vicar raised his eyebrows, apparently waiting for a response from Jake.
“Oh. Well, perhaps you would accept a sizable donation from me as well. We cannot allow a respected member of the clergy to go without the basics needed for survival.”
Mr. Ramsey beamed. “Indeed, Mr. Hillary. You are a generous soul.”
Jake glanced at Amelia. Hell. He would give half his fortune if it meant he could have her for his wife tonight.
“This is truly what you desire?” he asked her. “Our wedding onboard?”
“Very much.”
“Then we have no reason to waste any more of Mr. Ramsey’s time. Shall we?”
Facing one another, they waited to repeat their vows. Amelia’s clear blue eyes held his gaze.
Mr. Ramsey cleared his throat. “Please repeat after me. I, Jacob James Hillary, take you Amelia Catherine Caine née Barton, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward.”
Jake echoed the vicar’s words, offering his promise of protection and love to Amelia forever. A thick lump formed in his throat as she looked on him with love. “For better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”
Nothing but death could ever separate them. Jake would fight off the hounds of hell before anything kept them apart again.
Amelia spoke her vows without wavering. “To love and to cherish from this day forward until death do us part,” she finished, tears welling up in her eyes.
Mr. Ramsey grinned. “I now pronounce you man and wife.”
Jake kissed his beautiful wife chastely before turning to accept Daniel’s handshake.
His brother thwacked his back as he pumped his hand before sweeping Amelia into his arms and placing a noisy smack on her cheek. She giggled like a young girl, setting Jake’s teeth on edge. His brother should find his own damned wife.
“Yes, my days in New Orleans were a hardship,” Mr. Ramsey interjected as if someone had posed a question to him about his experiences. “I didn’t enjoy the luxuries of home. In fact, I—”
Daniel clamped a meaty hand on the vicar’s shoulder and guided him toward the door. “Then you must join me in my quarters for dinner. I shall open one of the finer vintages I carried from England.”
Jake smiled his gratitude as his brother removed the chattering man from their cabin.
Amelia glanced at Jake from beneath her wispy lashes. “I requested our meal be served here. Would you like to partake?”
Jake chuckled under his breath. He would definitely like to partake, but not of the dishes spread on the table. But a few more minutes wouldn’t be the death of him. Besides, Amelia required more sustenance these days.
“I would love to sample the fine dishes you’ve chosen.” He held her chair out, and she lowered onto the padded seat, her movements fluid and graceful.
He examined the plush scarlet counterpane covering their bed and the expensive dinnerware. “You’ve been shopping for our quarters.”
Spots of pink brightened her cheeks. “I thought to make it more inviting since it will be our home for the next several weeks.”
“Brilliant idea.”
Amelia ladled lobster bisque from the soup tureen into
delicate porcelain bowls before setting one in front of each of them. The savory scent made his mouth water.
“Did the cook learn some new dishes?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Sadly, no. This will be our only gourmet meal.”
“You have been secretive, Mrs. Hillary.” Jake loved the way her new address rolled off his tongue, richer and more exquisite than the creamy soup.
“I’m sorry for teasing you last night and today. It was rather bad form, even though it was successful at keeping you away long enough to arrange everything.”
“I’m certain you will find some way to make amends.”
She offered an impish grin before touching her lovely lips to the edge of the spoon to sip the bisque. Those lips had been mesmerizing him for years.
After the soup, she served a spicy red fish and fresh asparagus salad with a delicate vinaigrette. Lastly, she lifted a domed silver cover.
“Beignets,” she announced, swirling her gloved hand over the powdered pastries. The way her sea blue eyes danced with excitement was enchanting. His wife had developed quite the sweet tooth over the last couple of weeks.
Jake snatched a puff pastry from the tray, and with his free hand, he gently tugged on her arm. “Come here, sweetheart.”
Amelia replaced the domed lid and allowed him to pull her onto his lap. He touched the treat to her lips, but as she opened her mouth for a bite, he withdrew it to tease her.
She huffed. “Jake.”
He chuckled before licking the powdered sugar from her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, love. I know you have developed a liking for beignets.”
Her eyes clouded. “I’m afraid I have liked them too much.”
He adjusted her on his lap and wrapped his arms tighter around her expanded waist. “How does one like a delectable treat too much? If that’s possible, I fear I will be guilty of overindulging on my wife.”
Her gaze dropped to her belly. “You don’t think I have grown too stout?”
“Good Lord, no. You’ve become a goddess. I can barely keep my hands off you.”
Amelia laughed when he kneaded her fuller bottom and nuzzled her neck.
“If anything, you should worry I might keep a babe in your belly as often as possible.”
“Even though being with child tends to make me unreasonable at times?”
“As long as you return to your senses eventually.”
She twined her arms around his neck, pressing her voluptuous breasts against him. “I’ll welcome any children you see fit to give me. I never thought I would become a mother or marry again, but now I cannot imagine my life any other way. I love you, Jake.”
Threading his fingers into her silky hair, he drew her forward until their lips drifted as close as possible without touching.
“I worship you, Mia, and I always will,” he murmured before sealing his promise with a kiss.
Read on for an excerpt from
Miss Lavigne’s Little White Lie
by Samantha Grace
Coming October 2012
From Sourcebooks Casablanca
New Orleans
June 20, 1818
Grandmamma had always said nothing good happened under the cloak of darkness. The witching hour was ripe with men practicing their evil. Therefore, it was with much trepidation that Lisette Lavigne huddled together with her younger brother and cousin in the shadowy gardens of Passebon House, praying the night would conceal their escape from the wickedest of men, her betrothed.
The coarse language of Louis Reynaud’s men carried on the sluggish air. They made no attempt to hide their presence outside the gate of her father’s Vieux Carré home, and hadn’t since their arrival two days earlier. The men had even followed her on a shopping excursion to Rue de Royale earlier in the day, confirming her suspicions. Her betrothed sensed she no longer wished to marry him, and he had no intentions of releasing her from their agreement.
Her brother shifted and whimpered softly. Hiding in the gardens rather than tucked into bed at this hour would disturb any child, but to one with Rafe’s temperament, a fit of temper could ensue at any moment.
Their cousin, Serafine Vistoire, placed a comforting arm around his shoulders. “There, there, sweet child,” she murmured. “Look for your stars.”
Rafe rocked side-to-side as he searched the star-splattered sky, soothing himself, at least for the time being.
The deafening trill of cicadas pierced the night, their ever-rising call tweaking Lisette’s taut nerves. She forced herself to slow her breathing.
“Where are they?” she whispered. “Monsieur Baptiste said midnight.”
Serafine nodded. The whites of her eyes stood out in the darkness.
What if they didn’t come? The wedding was in two days. This would be their only chance to flee. Lisette’s fingers tightened on her bombazine skirts until her knuckles ached.
“Good evening, messieurs.” A throaty laugh floated on the heavy air, the call of a temptress. Relief flooded through Lisette. The distraction had arrived at last.
“Sacré bleu!” one of the men yelped. “Are you seeing what I see?”
“Whores. Whatta they doing here?”
“Perfect night to take exercise,” one of the women purred. “Wouldn’t you agree, gents?”
Her companion chuckled, her voice heavy with seductive promise. “Oui. Two virile messieurs like you must take exercise often.”
Reynaud’s man uttered a combination of unspeakable words that might have impressed Lisette under different circumstances, for he excelled at the art of vulgarity. She considered herself an expert, having developed an ear for inappropriate language while visiting Papa at the waterfront.
Rafe wiggled, his control nearing the limits.
Sweet Mary. This had best work, and quickly.
“Just for a bit? S’il vous plaît.”
“Damn,” one of the guards muttered. “I’m gonna hate myself for this, but we can’t leave our posts.”
Really, the man’s integrity was shocking. How did one go about locating such upstanding criminals?
“May I share a secret, mister?”
“I s’pose. What kind of secret?”
“As your friend implied, a pair of whores doesn’t happen by on a lark. Perhaps you should think of us as a reward for a job well done.”
“Reynaud sent you?”
Lisette held her breath as she waited for the woman’s response.
“Shh. ’Tis a secret, remember?”
Both men chuckled as if they couldn’t believe their good fortune. And anyone with sense would know better. Lisette was barely acquainted with her betrothed, and yet she understood he did nothing that benefitted anyone aside from himself.
“Ain’t no harm in exercise, right?”
“Splendid. This way, sir, where we may enjoy some privacy.”
“What about the garden?”
Lisette froze like a rabbit that had spotted the family pet. If the women led them through the gate, she and her family would be discovered. Frantic, she searched for a place to retreat among the potted flowers and garden statues.
“Flowers make me sneeze, monsieur. But I know a better spot for amorous sport.”
Their voices faded as they moved away from the house.
Lisette crept from their hiding place and slung the bag of their belongings over her shoulder. “We must go quickly.”
Seeing no one else outside on the walk, she pushed open the gate then captured her brother’s hand. Dressed in all black to blend with the night, they headed toward the wharf.
No one spoke as they crossed Rue de Chartres. Moss draped like gauze from the gnarled limbs of the trees as they drew closer to the river.
Rafe dragged on her arm, forcing Lisette to stop. “I want to go home.”
She reassuringly squeezed his hand and urged him forward. “But we have a surprise for you, remember?”
“I want to go home.”
Serafine tugged his other arm. “Not now, ma biche.
We must hurry.”
Rafe had maintained excellent control up to this point, donning black clothing despite his abhorrence of the color and kneeling in the garden where dirt might soil his hands. Expecting anything more from him seemed unfair, but they required his cooperation now more than ever.
Lisette crouched at his level. “Shall I reveal the surprise now? We are sailing on a ship.”
“A ship?” A twinge of interest colored his voice.
“Yes, a majestic ship called the Cecily. We must sleep close to the port for we cannot miss our ship.”
“Cannot miss the Cecily.” Rafe resumed his measured strides. “Baltimore flyer, clipper, frigate, Indiaman.” He recited the types of ships he knew with a note of excitement.
She had handled her brother without much difficulty this time. Now if only they could enter The Abyss without drawing notice. Reynaud had nefarious connections all over New Orleans, and hiding among the derelict of the city was a risky endeavor. What manner of man must the captain of the Cecily be to commune with petty thieves and cut-throats?
Lisette forced her concerns to the edges of her consciousness. Captain Hillary’s ship was the only ship departing for England and provided the sole means of protecting her brother. Nothing would deter her when it came to keeping Rafe safe.
***
Captain Daniel Hillary loved two simple pleasures in life, a woman’s supple curves beneath his body and his Indiaman with sails unfurled, forging through the ocean waves. But damn it to hell, women and the sea didn’t mix, and based upon Paulina’s determined eyes staring up at him, he was in for a row.
Why she chose to make her request before they had taken their pleasure was beyond him. They were still wearing their clothes, for the love of God.
He rolled off his handsome mistress and flopped to his back. “I don’t allow women aboard the Cecily. End of discussion.”
Paulina lifted to her elbow and frowned down at him. Her mussed chestnut hair made her appear as if she’d already been tumbled, increasing his discomfort. “That is untrue. What of the beautiful blonde woman?”
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