by Mia Marlowe
Along with Cecil Oddbody.
Then, as a favor to Lord Drake, His Majesty installed the unlikely personage of Joseph Meriwether as the new baron to the north of Dragon Caern. Meri was mostly pleased to have inherited such a fine wine cellar, but Hagitha Beadle, the new Mrs. Meriwether, was delighted to be known as ‘my lady.’
And there had been another wedding in the family. Isabella Wren finally took a man’s name. The new Lady Haversham wrote from Rome that she and ‘dear Geoffrey’ had decided to wed while gallivanting about the Continent.
Isabella was sorry to miss the birth of her first grandchild, but she was never much use in a sick room and had absolutely no interest in changing a newborn’s napkins. She promised to visit once Jacquelyn and Gabriel’s child reached a ‘more interesting age.’
Gabriel stopped pacing the solar. “Meri, I can’t wait any longer.”
“Them women are like to have yer balls for breakin’ in on ‘em during a birthin’,” his friend said cheerfully.
“Well, since my balls caused the problem in the first place, they might not be wrong.” Gabriel left Meri to his whisky and took the curving stairs two at a time.
When he reached his chamber, he hesitated. After nearly hanging, he didn’t fear much, but the last few hours spent wondering what was happening to Lyn had reacquainted him with the emotion. There was no sound coming from beyond the portal, but he didn’t think that was a good sign. He pushed the door open slowly.
Lyn was reclining on a mound of pillows, her lovely hair streaming past her shoulders. Even from across the room, he could see that her locks were damp with sweat. One breast was partially exposed and she was looking down at it. No, he realized, she was looking at the wadded bundle in her arms.
“What are you doing here?” Lady Meriwether exclaimed. “We haven’t had time to clean the babe or—”
“No, it’s all right,” Lyn said with a tired smile. “Come in, Gabriel. There’s someone who wants to meet you.”
He tiptoed toward the bed, feeling like an intruder in his own chamber. Gabe eased a hip down on the side of the bed as Lyn pulled back the blankets to show him a little head, dark hair plastered to the tiny skull.
“Meet your daughter,” Lyn said. “I know you were hoping for a son but—”
“Who wants an ugly old boy when I can have the two most beautiful women in the world?” he said as he cradled the baby’s delicate head and leaned forward to kiss first Lyn, then the pulsing soft spot on his daughter’s crown. “I never believed it was possible to love two people with my whole heart, but I do.”
Lyn put a hand to his cheek as the baby rooted at her breast. “We can try again for a boy.”
“Ah! The trying is my favorite part, but after all this, I won’t rush you. When you’re feeling ready, tip me the eye,” he said, as he helped guide his daughter’s lips to his wife’s swollen nipple. “But once you’ve given me the word, be forewarned, my lady.”
She arched a questioning brow at him.
He kissed her again, slowly and deeply. “What a pirate wants, a pirate takes.”
THE END
Author’s Note
HOW TO PLEASE A PIRATE is a work of fiction, but an actual historical person makes a brief cameo appearance in the story—King George I. First of the Hanoverian kings, he neither spoke English nor spent much time on his island nation, a fact which may explain the relative peace and prosperity of his reign. In his personal life, he was a man of his age. He kept a number of mistresses and reportedly sired children by some of them, so making my heroine one of his by-blows is not too far a stretch. It is worth noting however, that though George I was rather cavalier about his own bed partners, he had his wife imprisoned for thirty-two years after he caught her with a lover.
The scene in HOW TO PLEASE A PIRATE where the heroine’s courtesan mother hides the hero between her feather mattresses to avoid arrest is borrowed from a real life account. Grace Elliott, a famous English courtesan, saved the Marquis de Champcenetz from a date with Madame Guillotine during the bloody days of the French Revolution in the exact same manner. Miss Elliott was imprisoned, but later escaped France with her lovely head still attached to her shoulders. Her heroism during a dark time is a testament to character that has nothing to do with how she secured her living.
Happy Reading,
Mia
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