The Marooner

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The Marooner Page 8

by Barbara Devlin


  “Sounds delicious.” Knowing her husband’s humble beginnings, Sophia picked up her napkin, glanced at Leland and nodded, and he mimicked her movements, as she draped the cloth in her lap. “I will take the wine, but I prefer tea to complete the meal.”

  “And I will take rum.” Leland flexed his jaw.

  “As you wish.” The waiter bowed. “I shall return, momentarily, with the first course.”

  Painful silence pervaded the refined chamber, and she admired the leather wall inserts and flocked coverings that matched the main dining room’s décor, while her husband remained stoic, much to her disappointment.

  True to his word, the servant delivered the various dishes, and Sophia consumed the savory fare in silence. Every now and then, she met her stubborn spouse’s stare, and he mustered a brittle smile that did not fool her for a second.

  With each successive bite, she anticipated some form of communication, but he spoke not. Resolved to find transport to England, at the earliest opportunity, because she doubted he would care if she left him, she gazed at the plantain tart on her plate and frowned.

  “Come here.” Leland scooted back his chair and slapped his thigh.

  “Why?” She toyed with the strange pastry.

  “Sophia, please, do as I ask.” Again, he slapped his thigh. “I know you are upset with me, and I would honor your request, but I need you close to me. Do it for me, not because you want to, but because you are my wife, and you never refuse me anything.”

  “I am surprised you know the meaning of the word, since you exhibit so little understanding.” Yes, hers was a spiteful response, but he hurt her, and the wound still smarted. However, her devotion to duty overruled her desire for retribution, so she obeyed. When she eased to his lap, he cupped her bottom, as was his way, framed her chin, and kissed her. It was a gentle gesture. It was a peace offering, and by the time he lifted his head, her defenses fractured.

  “What do you want to know?” Trailing a finger along her cheek, he rubbed his nose to hers. “What do you want to ask me?”

  Several pressing queries danced before her, but one would determine whether or not they had a future. “What do you fear?”

  Tension weighed heavy, as he held her stare, and what she spied in his turbulent blue gaze struck her as a vicious blow. “A life without you.”

  An invisible dam burst, and a wave of undeniable passion drove her, as she wrapped her arms about his neck, covered his mouth with hers, and engaged his tongue in a frisky duel that lasted untold minutes. By the time they parted, he had snaked a hand beneath her skirts, to fondle her most intimate flesh, and she was breathless.

  “Why could you not have told me so, sooner?” In play, she nipped his bottom lip and inhaled, as he circled the pearl of her desire. “I could have allayed your concerns and spared you needless suffering, because I will never leave you.” Oh, no. Not now. Not when he wanted her, so desperately.

  “Is that a promise?” The raw anguish, palpable in his expression, wrenched her heart, and she ached to soothe him. “Because I need to believe in you. I need to believe in us.”

  “Have you never had faith in anything or anyone?” When he shook his head, she sobbed. “My poor darling, why? What happened to you that you are so cynical?” Catching his ear lobe between her teeth, she teased him in the manner he most enjoyed. “Talk to me. Tell me who hurt you.”

  “My parents.” Between her thighs, he increased the tempo, employing his thumb, as he slipped a finger inside her. “They sold me when I was but six years old.”

  “What?” She lauded his efforts with a moan, as the alluring pressure built.

  “Yield, Sophia.” Squeezing her bottom, he increased his licentious assault. “Yield, as there is nothing so stunning as my wife in the throes of passion, and I need a victory right now.”

  “Leland.” She evoked his name as a plea, and he came to her rescue, taking her scream of completion into his mouth. Holding her, as she went rigid in release, and whispering praise until the sultry storm passed.

  “Do you not comprehend what you do to me?” He rested his forehead to hers. “Regardless of my experience, with you I have never felt more a man. With a single glance or touch, however brief, you command me.”

  “More’s the pity.” She bestowed upon him a quick but tender kiss. “Because I know the same torment.”

  “Do you?” When she nodded the affirmative, he smiled a boyish smile that melted the last vestiges of her opposition. “Why?”

  “My cherished husband, do you really not know your worth?” In the shadows of his wretched torment, the moderation of which became her chief priority from that moment forward, she yearned to console him in a manner he would appreciate. “Have you no idea of your estimable attributes?”

  “You think me estimable?” He chuckled in a self-mocking tone that did not escape her. “I was a slave, Sophia. I was an indentured hand, often bullied and beaten for the amusement of my master’s crew. As a lad, I was small, and often the other sailors forced me to dance for their entertainment.” He heaved a mournful sigh and closed his eyes. “And they did other things—committed unspeakable acts, which I endured, because I was too young and incapable of defending myself.”

  “Shh.” Sensing he had reached some invisible wall, she halted his confession before she hurt him, and that was not her aim. “It is over now, and I am here. I will never let anyone harm you, again.”

  “Are you so formidable?” He came alert and narrowed his stare. “You would protect me?”

  “Yes.” In that instant, she walked her fingers to his crotch, where she found him hard to the touch, as she caressed him through his wool breeches. “But right now, I have something else in mind.”

  “And what is that?” He arched a brow, and the adorable marauder emerged.

  Emboldened, she whispered in his ear, “I wish to suckle Sophia’s pipe.”

  To wit, he choked. “Are you seducing me?”

  “What if I am?” After unhooking his placket, she slipped her hand inside, to grip his steely erection, and he groaned. “What if I desire you?”

  “I think we should take a room, here, because I am about to burst.” As she massaged the tip of his protuberance, he clutched her wrist but did not halt her massage. “Sophia.”

  His plea, simple in construction, carried a wealth of meaning that roused her, and she wanted him inside her. “But I prefer our cabin, aboard the Cry Havoc.”

  “Why?” Loosening her bodice, he teased her décolletage.

  “Because it is where we first made love.” Given the tempting strokes of his questing fingers, she shifted her hips, as passion erupted beneath her skin. “Oh, Leland, I ache in all the places you have not touched, and it is an agony I can scarcely endure. I beg you, put me out of my misery, and take me. Here or anywhere, just take me.”

  “My sweet wife, I have never made love to you.” He lifted her in his arms. “But tonight, I will rectify the situation.”

  THE MAROONER

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It was a sunny morning in Port Royal, as gulls keened in the distance, and Leland embarked upon what he believed would deliver him to an asylum. In short, he accompanied Sophia on a shopping trip. But after a night spent in his wife’s arms, which he likened to heaven on earth, he could refuse her nothing.

  So, as a dutiful spouse, he lingered in her wake, while she perused the various shops, in search of a collection of items. In quick succession, she added to her purchases, including a new counterpane, two high-back chairs, three thick rugs, and two lockers. When she emptied the small bag of coins he gave her, she turned and snapped her fingers.

  “Are you sure we need all these items?” From his coat pocket, he drew forth another pouch of money, which she snatched from his grasp.

  “Indeed, they are absolutely necessary.” As she counted the sum, she peered at him. “I want to remake our cabin as our own private sanctuary, where you will always find rest and succor.”

  “I hope to fi
nd more than that.” Waggling his brows, he inched closer and whispered, “How is your bottom?”

  “Much better, thanks to your suggestion, and the soak in a hot bath worked wonders.” Ah, she blushed, and he savored her shy smile, in light of all they shared in their room at the hotel. “And I want everything to be perfect, when we depart for Boston. Did you not warn it would be considerably colder, the further north we sail?”

  “I did.” Snaking an arm about her waist, he pulled her close and kissed her temple, because he could deny her naught. “Buy whatever you wish, my dear. Whatever you want, it is yours for the taking.”

  “Much like last night.” Biting her bottom lip, she averted her stare, and he did not mistake her meaning. “Did you feel the soft, down-filled velvet damask? Can you just imagine the two of us huddling beneath it, on a chilly night?”

  “I can, now.” In truth, all manner of sumptuous images filled his brain, accompanied by a sweet symphony of her breathy sighs. “And I look forward to it.”

  After retiring to a posh suite at the Grand Port Royal, they stripped and took to a massive bed, whereupon he proceeded to lavish attention on every part of her succulent body, to her much-professed pleasure. To his infinite gratitude, whatever he asked of Sophia, she yielded, and never had he made such demands of any woman. Yet his barely ex-virgin performed the services one would never dare ask of a professional.

  Most of all, she accepted him.

  Without judgment.

  Without disdain.

  Without rejection.

  Oh, no. Not his prim and proper society lady. In truth, she possessed more strength in her delicate little finger than the most robust buccaneer. That she dedicated, quite forcefully, her awe-inspiring resilience in defense of her husband left him humbled and vulnerable, because he did not share the truth of his pirate past.

  There was a lethal sort of dark power to secrets.

  Devoid of physical form, the undisclosed information functioned as a very real prison, locking its captive in a brutal form of hell he could not escape without risking the one thing without which he could not live. Yet, all he had to do was confess that which he concealed to render it impotent.

  But that took courage.

  “Leland, can you summon the men to retrieve my packages?” Sophia splayed her palms to her chest, as they stood on the sidewalk. “I wish to visit the market, as I would procure some fresh produce, and I want to try the recipe for the plantain tarts you fed me.”

  “That was nice, was it not?” And there was something about tending his bride that brought out the animal in him. To his delight, she encouraged him. “But your inventive use of the whipped cream was inspiring.”

  “I would try it again, with cherry compote.” She brushed her lips to his. “If you are up to it.”

  “Believe me, I am up to it, right now.” Her answering giggle only heightened his desire. “Are you almost done?”

  “Yes, and because you have been so cooperative I would reward you, as soon as your crew anchors the new furnishings.” Swift and sure, she launched in the opposite direction, checking off items from her list. “This is so exciting, as I would make you happy.”

  “Sophia, wait for me.” At the curb, he signaled two of his deckhands and said, “Pick up my wife’s parcels, and meet us at the market.”

  “Aye, Cap’n,” the men replied, in unison.

  Ahead, he spotted his bride—along with two notorious freebooters, and he broke into a run. When the raiders dragged her into an alley, Leland drew a dagger from his coat. As he neared, he let fly the weapon with unerring aim, and it stuck one attacker in the back of his hand.

  “What the—Marooner.” The bastard glanced at his partner. “Watch out.”

  The warning came too late, as Leland pulled a pistol from his waistband. “Touch my wife and you die.” He flicked his fingers. “Sophia, come here.”

  To his immediate relief, she did as he bade and crouched behind him.

  “Marooner, we did not know she was with you, or we never would have talked to her.” The scamp yanked the knife free from his friend, who howled in pain. “If it is all the same to you, we will be on our way.”

  “Get out of here.” Leland pulled Sophia into his arms, and she trembled. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, thanks to you.” Tears streamed her face, as she met his gaze. “Can we go back to the ship?”

  “What about the market?” After fumbling for a handkerchief, he dried her cheeks and nipped her nose. “Please, darling, do not let them spoil our special day.”

  “Do you know those men?” For a moment, she simply stared at him, and then she rested her head to his chest and hugged him about the waist. “I thought they were going to kill me.”

  “Sweetheart, this is Port Royal. It is infamous for its unsavory underbelly of crime.” Inhaling the subtle scent of lavender that was uniquely hers, he reassured himself that she was safe and sound in his embrace, and he had nothing to fear. But nagging doubts crept into his mind and traipsed a merry jig down his spine, and he shuddered, as he contemplated what could have happened had he not arrived in time to intervene on her behalf. “That is why you should never venture from my side, when we are in town, because there are dangers I would not expect you to recognize.”

  “My cherished husband, I vow to remain as close to you as possible, from this moment forward, and it is no difficult task.” Shuffling in his hold, she lifted her head and pressed her lips to his. “Thank you, for saving me.”

  “Believe me, it was my pleasure.” To lighten the mood, he walked his fingers down, to squeeze her bottom.

  In response, she pressed her hips to his. “It will be, once we cast off.”

  “You have grown bold, overnight.” As he massaged her back, she positioned herself for another kiss, and he obeyed the summons. “Dare I ask why?”

  “As I told you, it is much easier to share myself with you, when I know you.” Wholesome and sensuous, at once, she manifested the ultimate vixen, and he could devour her, then and there. “You did much to further that cause, at dinner and this morning.”

  “As promised, I am trying.” He rubbed her shoulders and frowned, because she still suffered. “You shiver, Sophia. It is all right, and I will never let anything happen to you.”

  “I should apologize, because this has naught to do with you.” She wiped her brow. “When I was but twelve, we journeyed home after the London Season, and we were robbed in the outer environs. My father assured us we would be fine, as long as we cooperated, but one of the villains made inappropriate remarks directed at me, and then he tried to lure me outside. When I refused, he slapped me, and my father did nothing. If not for an approaching carriage, I am convinced the criminal would have…would have…oh, you know what I reference.” Then, to his shock, she clutched the lapels of his coat and cast a wild-eyed expression. “You would never let anyone harm me like that, would you? Because I am your wife, and I belong to you, is that not right?”

  “Aye.” The mere thought of someone violating Sophia inspired rage, given her gentle nature, and he wanted naught more than to protect her, as she quietly wept. “You have my word, I will go to my grave before I allow anyone to touch you in that way.”

  “You are my hero.” Clinging so tight he could hardly breathe, she nibbled his chin and blazed a familiar path, to claim another searing kiss. “I need you, Leland.”

  “What about your shopping list?” How he hated to let anything ruin their day. “Did you not promise the crew a delicious dinner?”

  “I did.” She pouted, and her adorable countenance almost brought him to his knees. “And I would not disappoint them for anything in the world, so we will continue to the market.” With a steely grip on his arm, she assumed her place at his side. “But you will not leave me?”

  “Not for a second.”

  It was an oath he kept, as they strolled among the various stalls, and she selected the fruits and vegetables for her much-touted recipes, along with razors
and soap. The latter had him smiling, because she honestly believed she could improve the crew’s grooming habits, if she bought the requisite supplies.

  With everything loaded in the wagon, they returned to the Cry Havoc.

  “May I borrow a few of your men, to nail down the new furniture, install the lockers, and hang the drapery?” Still showing signs of distress, she favored him with a tremulous smile, when he nodded, and he cupped her cheek. “And then you will come to me?”

  It was a rare gift to have someone rely on him so completely, and the honor was not lost on him. Despite all he had done, regardless of the horrors he had committed as the Marooner, Sophia invested immeasurable faith in his ability to guard and comfort her.

  “I will.” With great reluctance, he released her and flagged his first mate. “Smitty, send three carpenters to help Sophia. Then get everything stowed and meet me at the helm.”

  “Aye, Cap’n.” Smitty whistled and signaled the mates, as Leland climbed the companion ladder.

  After verifying the proper charts with the navigator, he assembled those in positions of command. “We sail into heavy seas and foul weather, so be sure the storm canvas is ready to be deployed. Secure all loose items, and be sure the braces, lifts, topsail halyards, tacks, sheets, and the like, are coiled down clear for running, and make ready the dry stoppers, as I expect the situation will worsen the further north we travel.”

  “Aye, sir.” The bosun nodded. “This morning, we rove off the studdingsails gear, so we could inspect and becket the studdingsails, repaired defective ratlines, and replaced some capping of the shrouds. And I already confirmed the masts and yards are squared. Once we cast off, I will take the lead in the jolly boat, so I can record the fore and aft draught.”

 

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