Angel spread her legs and pulled him closer. She felt the pressure of his sex nudging her, and then she sucked in her breath as he slipped inside. He was big, bigger than she had imagined a man could be. She felt herself stretching. There was a quick stab of discomfort, and then Will slid deeper.
"Love me!" she cried. She thrust her hips up, opening for him. They fit together as perfectly as two halves of a seashell. The feeling was unlike any she had ever experienced, a good feeling, but not good enough. She squirmed beneath him and he pushed deeper still.
"Oh." Her eyes widened as pleasure shot through her. "Oh, Will!"
Laughing, murmuring her name, he kissed her mouth. And then slowly, he began to withdraw.
"No. Don't—," she began. But then, her need flared up as he buried himself to the hilt. He gave one final cry, and the power he'd held so long in check broke free.
He slammed into her again and again. She caught the rhythm, moving with him, giving everything... meeting passion with passion. Nothing mattered but Will and finding release from this fierce storm that battered and embraced her. The seas rose higher and higher. The water swirled around her until she forgot to breathe, forgot everything but this wild, fierce mating of flesh and soul.
Until a final surge washed her up and over. Until Will covered her face with kisses and rocked her in his arms. Until she found for a few brief hours a feeling of security and belonging that she had never known before... and could never allow herself to hope for again.
* * *
Later, Will shared the wine he had brought with him, and the two swam naked in the river without the slightest thought of poisonous snakes or alligators. In the shallows, near the bank, Angel nestled against him, her arms around his neck, her hair loose and unbound, hanging around her shoulders.
"I didn't hurt you too much, did I?" he asked. She seemed so small, so fragile between his hands. He wanted to shelter and care for her, to keep her safe from the world, as he had never wanted to protect another.
She laughed softly and kissed him with so much ardor that he felt himself growing hard again. "Nay, ye cod's head." She slid a palm down his belly to clasp his cock, and then her eyes widened in surprise. "I think I woke it up."
They kissed again, and he filled his head with her smell and taste. He was intoxicated—not by the small amount of wine he'd consumed but by this magical being. "I warned you," he teased.
"And if I do this... and this?"
He groaned as white-hot desire flooded through him. He drew her close and lifted her so that he could enter her. The buoyancy of the water, the feel of it on his bare skin, added delightful sensations to their lovemaking. And to his wonder, when he'd brought Angel to climax and found his own rapture, he found himself even more determined to make her his legal wife.
"Have I told you how much I love you?" he asked as they walked hand in hand back to the blanket and dropped onto it.
"Mayhap ye have, but I find it pleasin' all the same."
He wound a wet lock of her hair around his finger and lifted it to his lips. "There's no one like you."
She looked up at him through long, thick lashes. "Do I please ye, Will? Truly?"
"Truly," he replied. "I've never been so happy."
"Good." She curled beside him and laid her head on his shoulder. "They say the moon casts a spell on lovers," she murmured. "Do ye think it's so?"
"You've cast the spell on me. My sweet, sweet Angel."
She lay his palm against her cheek and sighed. "I'm happy, too. 'Tis like a dream, isn't it. But one I fear we'll wake from in the morning."
"We'll be married as soon—"
"Shhh." She silenced him with warm fingertips. "Don't talk, please. I need no words. The night is slipping away, Will. I want to savor every minute."
"But I need to—"
She gripped his hand. "Please! If ye love me as ye say ye do, don't talk to me about tomorrow or the next day. Not of Charleston or churches or even clipper ships. For this night, can we be the only man and woman in God's garden?"
And, of course, on this night, when she had given him the greatest gift any woman can give a man, he could deny her nothing. So he merely held her and kissed her until the yellow moon dipped beneath the treetops and the first purple streamers of dawn spilled across the eastern sky.
Chapter 24
The sun was high by the time Will paddled the dugout around the bend past Aba Sunday's cabin. He didn't handle the boat as easily as she did, but Angel didn't care. She was content to gaze at him, to watch Will's shirt stretch tight as his muscles flexed with each stroke, and to study the way he moved his head and arms.
The reality of daylight hadn't yet washed away her happiness of what they had shared beneath the full moon or dimmed the physical excitement of their love-making. She'd never known such joy, and she didn't want it to end.
Old Aba came from her house with a water bucket in her hand, saw them, and waved.
"Aba told me she was a little girl in Africa when slave traders raided her village. She saw her father and two older brothers murdered."
"She told you all that?"
Angel nodded. "She's free now. Her old master left her the house and an acre of land when he died."
"I've known Aba for years, but she's barely spoken to me. I didn't think her English was that good."
Angel chuckled. "Maybe you didn't ask her the right questions." She waved a final time at her new friend. "She promised to show me where to find sweet grass to weave a basket, and she's going to teach me a new way to wrap the strands so that the basket will hold water." If I'm here that long, she thought.
"Do you like Nottingham? Better than Charleston?"
"Aye." It seemed to Angel that Will's smile was sweeter than berry preserves eaten warm by the spoonful. "'Tis quiet enough to hear your own thoughts."
She wished she could touch him, but she couldn't risk rocking the dugout. So, she soothed herself by noticing the way his thick hair curled in dark ringlets over his shirt collar. Surely, she thought, Will Falcon must be the handsomest man in all the Carolinas.
If only she could keep him.
But that was wishing for more than was her rightful portion. Having Will for a little while, pretending they had a forever together, was far more than she'd ever expected.
He looked back at her, his blue eyes caressing her. "There used to be more people here. But Lizzy plants only a few fields of rice and no indigo. She says she's of no need of more money."
"Slaves, you mean?"
He nodded. "It takes labor to bring in crops, and freemen won't do the work. If you're going to grow rice, you've got to have slaves."
"Then I'll never eat a bite of it again. 'Tis a filthy practice, slavery. Worse than seeking salvage of wrecked ships. No man or woman should own another."
"Don't let the good ladies of Charleston hear you say that. They'll take you for a Yankee."
Angel folded her arms. "Let them think what they please. I'll not hold my tongue if I think a thing's wrong."
"No, I don't believe you would."
He nudged her with the dripping paddle, and she went to jelly inside. Shamelessly, she wanted him again already. She hoped they could have more nights together, mayhap even weeks before they parted. Truth was, she had the fire for him. She wanted him, needed him... his searing kisses, his strong arms enfolding her, his lean hips thrusting against hers.
She could not deny it. She lusted for him like a dock-side trollop for a sailor's silver.
"We think alike there," Will continued. "It seems to me that the practice degrades the master as much as the slave. And my father agreed. Over the years, Falcon Shipping hired crew without regard to color, or..." He grimaced. "...whether the seaman signing on was free or slave. It gained us few friends among the other ship owners."
"I think I would have liked to know your father." She glanced back at Will. "I'm sorry I called him a coward."
"He should have been stronger. He didn't have to die. Together
we could have found a way to repay his creditors."
Just ahead of them tree swallows darted low over the water in search of insects. And off the stern, a spotted turtle raised its head, peered at the dugout, then sank soundlessly into the depths. The air was so rich and warm, so heady with the scents of growing things, that to Angel, it seemed like the Garden of Eden must have been.
"My father would have adored you," Will said.
Angel doubted that that was true, but she didn't want to argue. "You say little of your mother. What was she like?"
"Beautiful. Soft-spoken. Always laughing."
"Not much like Bett."
He chuckled. "I think not. My mother..." He trailed off as the great house came in view. "We're going to have to tell Lizzy about us," he said.
"Don't tell her that you've asked me to marry ye, not yet," she begged him. "Wait a day or two... to give me time to get used to the idea. I've nay said I would. Not yet."
Angel could guess what Lady Graymoor's reaction would be. One hint of a wedding, and the countess would throw her out of the house. And right now, every minute with Will was too precious to risk.
He flashed a boyish grin. "I'll try, but Lizzy is very perceptive. From the hints I've been dropping, she'll have guessed what's in the wind."
Angel threw out her fingers in the old sign for averting evil. "Don't say it," she cautioned. "You'll jinx us."
Black and yellow butterflies skimmed overhead as they made the dugout fast to the floating dock and walked up the wide lawn toward the house. A pair of orioles fluttered up, and a nesting wren scolded them angrily from the veranda. But except for the thin column of smoke drifting from the summer kitchen chimney, none of the servants seemed to be stirring at Nottingham.
Angel clung tightly to Will's hand. When he smiled down at her, she whispered, "I do love you."
He pulled her close and kissed her. "Are you sorry?"
"For what we did?" She felt her cheeks grow warm. "Never."
"I've wanted you for so long. But I always knew you were special, even before I loved you. I couldn't... it wouldn't have been right between us."
"You done it with lots of other women, haven't you?"
He chuckled. "That's not a question to ask a gentleman." Then his eyes caressed her. "But you were different... you were always my Angel. If I couldn't have you honorably, I couldn't have you at all."
She averted her eyes.
"And the sooner we set a church date, the happier I'll be."
"I've not said I would."
"You have to marry me," he teased. "Now that you've had your way with me."
* * *
No more than an hour later, after Angel had crept upstairs to her room and crawled between the sheets to drift off into a deep sleep, she was awakened by a soft voice and the smell of strong coffee.
"Wake up, miss," Ruby called. "Lady says you got to get up. She's got a surprise for Mr. Will, and she wants you to be there to see it."
Angel opened her eyes as the maid set a breakfast tray on the edge of the bed. "She wants you should eat hearty, miss. Got rice scones, Sally Lunn, eggs, and bacon." Ruby shook out a hunter-green skirt and jacket. "This here's a riding habit. I'll fetch boots while yer eating. Lady Graymoor says you'll need the boots." Ruby's intelligent brown eyes sparked with mischief. "Mistress says she hope you had a good sleep. And she wants you downstairs and at the stable before the clock strikes nine."
* * *
Will, Lady Graymoor, Griffin, and Delphi were already at the plantation stables when Angel arrived wearing the green outfit and carrying the tall riding boots.
"Good morning, Angel," Lady Graymoor said.
Angel murmured a general greeting and looked around. By Will's expression, he was as puzzled as she was. He'd changed into clean buff breeches, a spotless white linen shirt, and a buff waistcoat.
Will had shaved, and his still-damp hair was drawn neatly back into a queue at the nape of his neck. But the hint of shadows under his eyes told Angel that he was feeling the effects of a night without sleep as much as she was.
"Lizzy," he began gruffly. "What did you call us—"
Lady Graymoor clapped her hands, and a stable boy came out of the barn leading a pretty bay mare. "I had my horse master acquire this animal last week. She'll suit Angel perfectly, don't you think, William? It's really time she learned to ride."
Stunned, Will stared at Lady Graymoor and back at the horse. "Calli?" He approached the animal, patted her neck, and walked around her in obvious disbelief. "It can't be, but it is."
The bay's ears twitched. She nickered, then nudged Will with her nose.
Will beamed like a candle on a moonless night. "This is Calli! I thought she was dead. Where did you get her? Edward said that he'd had her—"
"Disposed of?" Lady Graymoor chuckled. "Odd how horses can be lame one day and sound the next."
The groom, who'd come to stand respectfully beside Will, grinned. "Yes, sir. That's a fact."
Will wrapped his arms around the mare's neck and hugged her. When he looked up, Angel was certain that his eyes glistened with moisture. "Edward has a good stable manager," he managed. "He wouldn't mistake—"
"A competent manager, but not a wealthy one," Griffin put in. "If this is your Calli, doubtless she passed hands several times before she became the property of her ladyship."
"Edward would never have sold her to you," Will said. "He despises Lizzy nearly as much as he hates me."
"Never say never," Griffin replied. "An important man like Mr. Mason surely doesn't attend to every small decision on his estate. And the horse certainly appears gentle enough for a woman. Wouldn't you agree?"
Will turned to the countess. "I don't know what to say. You've already done so much—"
"Teach the girl to ride," Lady Graymoor replied. "That will be thanks enough." She smiled, obviously pleased with herself.
Angel dropped the boots onto the ankle-deep grass. "I've never ridden a sidesaddle. But if you'll let me take it off, I can—“ I can—"
"You must learn," Will said. "All ladies use them."
"I don't."
"You're afraid?" he dared her.
"Ye know better than that, Will Falcon!"
"Good, then put those boots on, and we'll have our first lesson."
* * *
She did enjoy the riding, once she got the hang of the awkward saddle. Her experience had been bareback, on wild ponies on the islands, and now and then, a turn on a mainland plowhorse. She'd never sat astride an animal as sweet and well trained as Calli, but she would have ridden a swamp bear into hell's harbor to bring that glow of approval to Will's eyes.
Once he was convinced she wasn't about to pitch off the mare and break her neck, Will mounted a spirited black gelding and led her off across grown-over fields and vine-clogged lanes to explore the broad acres of Nottingham.
Delphi packed a flask of sweet cider and a hamper of fried chicken, cheese, corn bread, and blackberry cake to fill their bellies at nooning. They sat on a riverbank and devoured every bite of food and drop of cider before Will pulled her into his lap and began to kiss her mouth until she was mad for him to make love to her.
One caress did lead to another. And after they'd pleasured one another in a dozen, delightful ways that Angel had never dreamed of, they slept the afternoon away in each other's arms in the shade of a mighty oak tree.
When they woke, they laughed and teased each other, and made slow, hot love again before Will helped her dress so that they could ride home to Nottingham.
And that evening after supper, Griffin had the servants light all the candles in the east parlor and brought in musicians so that Will could teach her the fancy steps that quality danced to.
"You're a natural," Lady Graymoor insisted after Angel had practiced for the better part of an hour.
In truth, Angel had paid little attention to where she put her feet or to whether or not the kidskin slippers cramped her toes. Being in Will's arms while musi
c played and candles flickered was heaven. So sweet was the experience that she could almost imagine they were alone.
At half-past eleven, Lady Graymoor signaled to Griffin to dismiss the musicians and bade everyone a good night. Griffin gave final instructions to the staff, and the maids began to extinguish the candles.
"You two young people are welcome to stay up as late as you like," Lady Graymoor insisted. "But I would like to borrow Angel for a few moments, if you don't mind, William."
"I would be happy to do anything for ye," Angel said.
"For you," she corrected. "And 'tis time we were abed. The day has been a long one."
Puzzled as to what her ladyship might want and half afraid that she'd be reprimanded for her behavior with Will, Angel followed the older woman upstairs to her personal sitting room. Five spaniels and a tabby cat trailed after them.
Peggy helped the countess out of her clothing and into a dressing gown and poured two glasses of blackberry wine. The dogs curled up on the rug; the cat settled on a bed pillow. "Shall I have the bath filled for you, ma'am?" the maid asked as she placed a white linen cover over the parrot's cage.
"Peaches!" the bird cried. "Brandywine!"
"Quiet!" Lady Graymoor ordered. "Be still, you devil-hatched bird, or I'll have cook bake you with plum sauce and sausage stuffing for tomorrow's dinner."
"Your bath?" Peggy repeated, raising her voice over that of the squawking bird.
"I'll bathe in the morning. That will be all," Lady Graymoor replied. And when they were alone and the parrot's grumbling was confined to an occasional outburst of clucking, the countess waved Angel to a chair. "I won't keep you long," she promised. "I just wanted to talk with you about an important—"
"If I've done anything to—"
Lady Graymoor motioned her to silence. "No, no, my dear. It's nothing you've done or haven't done. Please, just listen to what I have to say."
Angel nodded. The thought that she had taken advantage of the countess's hospitality made her uneasy. "If you wish me to leave—," she began.
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