Giggling, she darted back into the kitchen.
William spared a glance at his brother, who merely grinned and shrugged.
Sighing, William returned his attention to Aislin’s father. Gentleman Jack Farnsworth was a big man, scarred about the mouth and eyes. He had thick dark hair and sported a beard as black as a raven’s wing.
As black as Aislin’s hair, but hers was long and silky while his was thick and matted.
Nor were his eyes her soft gray.
His were dark as coal. Devil’s eyes.
He was dressed elegantly, as though having purposely donned his finery for a special occasion. The special occasion would be his hanging, if it were up to William. But Gideon was in charge here, so he merely sat back and watched.
He had to give Gentleman Jack credit. The man showed no sign of fear. He spoke with a casual wave of his hand. The rings on his fingers and those in his ear gleamed by the early, morning firelight.
William glanced around to make certain this pirate had brought none of his crew along. He noticed Gideon doing the same.
“I came on my own,” Gentleman Jack said, his voice deep and raspy. “As I’ve told ye already, I’m unarmed.”
Aislin moved to sit beside her father, but William held her back. “Sit here.” In truth, he wanted her upstairs and out of the way, but he knew better than to demand it. She was not ready to leave her father’s side just yet.
William sat between them. It was the best he could do to protect this girl who did not wish to be protected. In truth, he doubted Jack would harm his own daughter. No, he and Gideon were his intended victims, assuming he meant to kill them now. He did not believe for a moment the man had no weapon on him, even though Gideon had searched him earlier.
William still had his pistol trained on the man, discretely under the table. He’d shoot him in the gut if he so much as twitched an eye.
Aislin frowned at her father. “I have a few words to say to you.” She rolled up her sleeves. “How did you escape the militia?”
“As fate would have it, I’d heard ye’d been injured, and I was on my way to Trevena to rescue ye. I was in the hills outside of Port Isaac when I heard shots and saw a vessel on fire in the harbor. I knew the militia was finally coming after us. But all I cared about was getting to ye, lass. Ye’re my daughter. My treasure. Seems the baron got to ye before I did.” He quirked a bushy eyebrow. “Did ye know about the raid, lass?”
“No, Jack. I only learned of it about an hour ago.” She tipped her chin up. “I’m not sorry though. You all deserve to hang. You deserve far worse.”
“Now, lass. Ye–”
“I mean it, Jack. You killed so many innocent souls.” She stared down this dangerous man. William tightened his grasp on the pistol, only to ease it a moment later. There was something in her father’s expression. He wasn’t here to hurt them or his daughter.
He was here for exactly the reason he’d stated earlier at Tintagel Castle—to negotiate.
What information could he possibly have to earn himself a pardon? He’d probably make something up, anything to implicate someone important and save his own hide.
Aislin’s father cast him an icy stare. “I didn’t want to kill any of them, only you, Whitpool. Yet, you still live.”
William returned his icy stare. “Despite your efforts.”
Tears formed in Aislin’s eyes. “How could you do this to him? Destroy his life because I looked upon him with affection? He had already sailed with the tide. He was never coming back to me.”
“Aislin, my child. Do ye not understand? Ye set his blood afire. He was always coming back for ye. He’s here now, isn’t he? I never doubted he’d come for ye. I had to stop him.”
“Because of the way I looked at him?”
“It was never about that.” Her father emitted a ragged breath. “It was about the way he looked at ye, lass. The same way I looked at yer mother when I first set eyes on her. Ye resemble her. Same long, dark hair. Same silver-gray eyes. The day I first saw her, I thought I was looking upon a dream. That’s how Whitpool looked at ye. As though ye were his dream. I couldn’t let him steal ye from me.”
Aislin began to cry softly. “He never would have.”
“Do ye think I’m blind, daughter? He wanted ye, and he was determined to have ye. Just as I did yer mother. But my intentions were honorable. I married her.”
“What made you think Baron Whitpool would not marry me?”
“Ye just said it, he’s a baron. The likes of us will never be good enough for the likes of him. He meant to take ye, but never as his wife. How else was I to protect ye?”
“There were other ways” She used her sleeve to wipe the tears off her cheeks. “Certainly not by killing him.”
“I had to do something, didn’t I? I’ll never let any man use ye and then cast ye off.”
“You’re wrong, Jack.” She still refused to acknowledge him as her father. “He would have married me. He’s already asked me. But I can never accept him now, not after what you did to him and his crew. I don’t know why he shows me any kindness, knowing who I am. I don’t know why he should care what ill befalls me.”
William took her hand. “Aislin, this changes nothing between us.”
“Do you hear yourself? This changes everything. My father will go to prison. He’ll likely be hanged before the month is out. Everything he owns will be confiscated.” She buried her head in her hands and let out a wrenching sob. “Gideon, tell him. Talk sense into your brother.”
“No, Aislin. He’s chosen wisely for himself.”
“Then you are both fools.” She looked up at them through her tears and frowned. “When the fog lifts and he remembers what happened, he will grow to hate me.”
Her father groaned. “No, Aislin. He won’t. He’ll remember ye tried to save him. He’ll remember the way his heart soared the moment he set eyes on ye. Do ye not understand? I was wrong about him. Marry the man and protect yerself. He’ll always love ye, my child. I’ve just told ye what ye mean to him. Ye are his heart. His very soul.”
His dream.
In the next moment, he slapped his hands on the table and turned to William’s brother. “Ye’re the one they call Gideon Croft. Now that we’re about to be family, sit down and let’s make a deal. Hawley isn’t the only traitor. I’ll give ye names in exchange for a full pardon.”
Gideon pulled out the chair opposite his and sank into it. “Gentleman Jack, I expected no less from you. Tell me what you know.”
Chapter Ten
One week later, Aislin stood beneath one of the archways of Tintagel Castle holding sprigs of pink roses and heather in her hands. She wore a gown adorned with ivory lace and a circlet of meadow flowers in her hair.
The morning sun shone down upon the castle, casting it and the turquoise sea below in a golden light.
Even the castle stones, so dark and ancient, seemed to glow.
“Are you ready, Aislin?” William took her hand and turned to face the minister who stood before them with Bible in hand.
Gideon and Mr. Musgrove served as their witnesses. A handful of friends from Polzeath and Port Isaac were in attendance, those fortunate enough to have escaped the militia’s raids. There were twenty or so in all.
Aislin had eyes only for William, this big, handsome man who wanted to walk through life with her.
The ceremony took place by special license, a necessity since they both wished their wedding to occur here, amid the majestic ruins where William’s dreams had led him.
They stood under a perfect, Celtic blue sky. He cast her a tender smile. “I love you, my Aislin.”
That’s what he called her now. My Aislin.
She smiled up at him, noticing the lightness in his emerald eyes. “I love you, too.”
Gideon sniffled behind them.
William turned to his brother. “Don’t cry, you arse. I’ll never be able to stay angry with you if you do.”
“Shut up and marry the girl.
Don’t make too much of it. The sun’s in my eyes, that’s all. You can beat me up later about my abandoning Abby. I had no idea Peter was in such bad shape. But we’ll all be together again at Christmastide. A family reunited. Although Aislin’s father will not join us. He’ll spend the rest of his days under house arrest.”
“Where he deserves to be,” Aislin muttered.
“He’s a resourceful man. I venture he’ll have his lands and ships back and be a privateer for the Crown within a month’s time,” William said.
“He’s turned over some important names,” Gideon acknowledged with a grunt. “But the government clerks work slowly. I give it two months before he’s freed. Now is not the time to speak of him. Kiss Aislin and stop looking at me. If you hug me one more time, I’m going to punch you.”
“You’re a monumental arse, Gideon.”
“So are you, big brother.” He sniffled again and quickly cleared his throat. “But I’m glad you’re alive. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather insult.”
Aislin could not suppress her laughter.
She wanted boys just like these two brothers. Smart and stubborn. Ready to hurl teasing insults at each other and yet run through the fires of hell to save each other. She understood why Gideon had not returned to his family or claimed the title when he thought William had been killed. He was ashamed. He believed he’d failed to save William and blamed himself for his beloved brother’s death.
So, he worked tirelessly to bring down the pirates who had claimed William’s life.
Aislin shook her head to clear away these sad thoughts. Each brother had suffered torments believing the other was dead. But they were reunited now. She could see the love they held for each other revealed in the gleam of their eyes.
Gideon was a handsome man.
But William was perfection. He was the mate to her soul.
As evening fell and everyone returned to their homes, she and William returned to the Pendragon Inn. She was now undressing in William’s chamber, assisted only by him. His hands were warm, the pads of his fingers calloused as he ran them through her hair and then slowly, ever so slowly, over her body.
His gaze was fiery as he unlaced her gown, scorching as he swept her hair aside and kissed her on the neck. “My dreams were always of you, my Aislin. I had no memory of my name. No memory of the burns on my leg and shoulders. No memory of my past. But I always remembered you.”
His kisses were rich and intense, even the gentle ones he trailed along her neck. This big, handsome man whose body was forged of iron knew how to stir her blood, knew how to make her respond to his touch. It still amazed her that he loved her, that he’d known it the moment they met.
How could she possibly matter to him?
And yet, she did.
He released her suddenly and stood staring at her…through her.
“William, what’s wrong?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “How did I know to find you at Tintagel Castle? I’d only ever seen you in Port Isaac. But my dreams were of you among the castle ruins.”
She smiled. “You don’t remember what I told you after I warned you about my father?”
He cast her a blank stare. “No. What did you tell me?”
She wiped a tear that had spilled from the corner of her eye. “I said I would ride to Tintagel Castle to watch your ship sail off. I wanted to be sure you’d made it safely away. I’ll be at Tintagel Castle. That’s what I promised you. Those were my last words to you. This is what you remembered.”
“It’s what my heart remembered.” He stripped out of his own clothes, all but his trousers. His body was magnificent. She wanted to touch him, run her hands along his muscled arms and kiss the scarred skin along his shoulders.
He was as eager to touch her, his hands on her hips, sliding up to her waist, skimming over her breasts as he slipped the gossamer chemise over her head.
He tossed it aside, his gaze never leaving her body. She blushed and tried to cover herself with her hair, for it was long, and she’d worn it unbound, as always.
“Aislin,” he whispered, his voice raw. He buried his fingers in her hair and brought her forward for his kiss.
Sweet mercy! The touch of his mouth on hers was anything but tame. His kiss was molten, the heat of it like lava pouring into an untamed sea.
He carried her to their bed, taking a moment to remove the last of his clothes. When he turned away to unbutton his trousers, she studied the burn scars on his shoulders. She’d kissed them and run her hands lightly over them just moments before. These scars would always be a reminder of the evil her father had inflicted upon him.
He must have suffered greatly. They still looked very bad, but she wouldn’t allow him to hide them from her. “Don’t, Aislin,” he said when she reached out to touch them again.
“They are a part of you. They made you the man you are today.” His body was more perfect for these imperfections.
She saw the flash of pain in his eyes. “I’m a man with no memory of the most important part of his life.”
“No, our future is what matters most. We’ll make new memories together. Come, my love. Join me in bed.”
He willingly obliged, settling over her so that she felt the splendid weight of him against her body.
He looked upon her as though he was a man famished.
“Lady Whitpool,” he whispered, smiling, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Baron Whitpool.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders where the fiery wood from the ship breaking apart had struck him as it fell into the sea. “No need to be gentle. You will not hurt me.”
But he insisted on it because of her leg.
Mother in heaven. What this man’s touch did to her. He teased her with his mouth and deft fingers, so she was ready and crying out for him.
He growled in satisfaction when he entered her and began to move inside her with the magnificent grace of a lion. Her body responded with a craven wanting, her blood turning thick. “William!”
She burrowed against his body, taking in the heat and power of him, the beautiful strength of him as he sought his own release which came on the heels of hers. He held her in his arms. Swallowed her up in them, for they were as big as oak trees, providing strength and shelter.
He emitted a feral growl when he was spent and collapsed atop her.
The crush of his body on hers felt splendid. But he quickly rolled aside and lifted her so that she now lay atop him. She rested her cheek against his chest, not minding that the light spray of gold hairs across his chest tickled her skin.
She nestled against his body, lulled by the steady beat of his heart. “You are all muscle and heat.”
He chuckled, obviously pleased with his performance…or hers…or both. He took her into his embrace and began to stroke her hair. “You are softness and silk,” he said, closing his eyes a moment.
“What are you thinking, William?”
He opened them to stare at her, then tucked a finger under her chin and drew her lips to his for a searing kiss. “I lay floating in the water, my back burned and bruised, and all hope lost. I felt myself slipping into the sea. Then you called to me. You held on to me, somehow. I don’t know how, but you were beside me until I was rescued.”
“Is that when your dream of me began?”
“Yes.” He kissed her again. “It’s a good feeling.”
“What is, my love?”
“Knowing that my dream came true.”
Also by Meara Platt
FARTHINGALE SERIES
My Fair Lily
The Duke I’m Going To Marry
Rules For Reforming A Rake
A Midsummer’s Kiss
The Viscount’s Rose
Earl Of Hearts
If You Wished For Me
Capturing The Heart Of A Cameron
Never Dare A Duke
THE BOOK OF LOVE SERIES
The Look of Love
The Touch of Love
&nbs
p; The Taste of Love
The Song of Love (December 2019)
The Scent of Love (March 2020)
The Kiss of Love (June 2020)
WOLFEBANE SERIES
Nobody’s Angel
Kiss An Angel
Bhrodi’s Angel
DARK GARDENS SERIES
Garden of Shadows
Garden of Light
Garden of Dragons
Garden of Destiny
THE BRAYDENS
A Match Made In Duty
Earl of Westcliff
Fortune’s Dragon
Earl of Kinross
PIRATES OF BRITANNIA
Pearls of Fire
About the Author
Meara Platt is an award winning, USA Today bestselling author and an Amazon UK All-star. Her favorite place in all the world is England’s Lake District, which may not come as a surprise since many of her stories are set in that idyllic landscape, including her paranormal romance Dark Gardens series. If you’d like to learn more about the ancient Fae prophecy that is about to unfold in the Dark Gardens, as well as Meara’s lighthearted, international bestselling Regency romances in the Farthingale Series and Book of Love series, and the more emotional and heartwarming The Braydens series, please visit Meara’s website at www.mearaplatt.com.
Sarah
Scarlett Scott
Haunted by betrayal and the tragic death of her sister, Lady Sarah Bolingbroke seeks vengeance against the man she holds responsible for both. But the Earl of Markham is equally plagued by the events that cost him the woman he loved. When Lady Sarah reappears in his life, he’s determined to reveal the truth and win her heart. Can love save them, or will the sins of the past destroy them?
Prologue
England, 1810
As the younger of her father’s two daughters, Lady Sarah Bolingbroke had fashioned being disregarded into an art form. Her proficiency in the skill rivaled that of her ability to paint watercolors and play the pianoforte. Despite just having newly made her introduction to society, she was accustomed to her older sister Amelia’s allure. All their lives, Sarah had dimmed hopelessly compared to Amelia’s blindingly bright beauty. She was a flickering candle burnt to its end, while Amelia blazed like the sun.
The Midnight Hour: All-Hallows’ Brides Page 15