Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife

by Sarah Mallory

  Martha helped her into the polonaise and arranged the folds of the skirt becomingly over the rose-coloured petticoat. It was not until the bodice was fastened that Eve realised the effect of the tight-lacing was not at all what she desired. She might feel restricted and un yielding, but the confining stays accentuated her tiny waist and pushed up her breasts so that they filled the gown’s low neckline in a way that would draw any male eye. And Nick was most definitely male. Well, there was no time to ask Martha to undress her again now.

  ‘Did you pack a kerchief for me, Martha?’

  ‘Aye, ma’am, but—’

  ‘Find it, if you please.’

  Five minutes later Eve regarded with satisfaction the fine muslin kerchief that covered her bosom.

  ‘There, that is much better.’ Much safer. ‘Now, Martha, if you will have dinner fetched up and make sure they remove the bath and all signs of my ablutions, you can take yourself off and join Richard Granby.’

  Eve did not know whether she desired or dreaded Nick’s appearance. She paced about the room as the hip bath, water and towels were carried away and the small table pulled out in readiness for dinner. Martha and the inn’s servants moved quickly and efficiently, lighting the candles, drawing the curtains and building up the fire to ward off the slight chill of the evening. She watched them at work, reasoning that the longer they took over their tasks the more she could put off seeing Nick.

  The hasty, booted foot steps outside the door told her she was mistaken.

  Nick strode in, bringing with him a sense of urgency that had the servants hurrying through their tasks and scuttling away.

  ‘Pray forgive the informality, madam.’ He bowed to her. ‘Will you allow me to dine with you in this attire?’

  Eve’s heart lurched as she looked at him. He was dressed as she had first seen him, in buck skins and topboots. His exquisitely-tailored riding jacket and the snow-white linen of his shirt and cravat signified the fashionable town beau, but his sun-browned face and the wicked twinkle in his blue eyes belonged to the adventurer. He spread his hands and said apologetically, ‘I sent word to Monkhurst for my clothes to be brought here, but this is the best I can muster.’

  She felt herself responding to his lazy smile. ‘Then it shall suffice, sir.’ She became aware that Martha was hovering by the door and waved her away. ‘Yes, yes, you may go, Martha. I shall call for you if I need you.’ She glanced at Nick, feeling awkward now they were alone. ‘I believe she is dining with your man this evening, sir. I hope you do not object?’

  ‘Not at all. He confided to me that he wants to make an honest woman of her, so I suggested he should wine and dine her in the coffee room tonight.’

  ‘Oh. Is that why we must eat here?’

  ‘No, sweet heart. We are eating here because it is more convenient.’

  She observed his quick glance towards the bed and a little spurt of excitement flamed within her. Quickly she damped it down. He came closer, a faint crease between his brows.

  ‘What is that thing round your neck?’

  ‘What? O-oh, this.’ She touched the muslin kerchief. ‘It—um—seemed a little cool in here.’

  ‘Well the fire is blazing well enough now, so you won’t need it any longer.’ Before she realised what he was about he had grasped the kerchief and pulled it away. She felt the colour rush to her cheeks as his eyes fell on the full, rounded bosom. He put his hands on her shoulders, saying softly, ‘Now why should you want to hide such beauty?’

  He lowered his dark head and she felt his lips brush the soft skin just above the rim of her bodice. Immediately her breasts tightened. They seemed to want to push right out of their confinement, to offer them selves up to his waiting mouth. The breath caught in her throat. Dear Heaven, why did he affect her so?

  ‘I…did not want to distract you,’ she managed, her voice croaking pitifully. Another deep breath, another attempt to control her wayward senses. ‘We have things to discuss, sir.’

  He raised his head. ‘Ah.’

  A scratching at the door heralded the arrival of their dinner. As the two waiters set down their trays Nick escorted Eve to the table. His fingers burned through the silk sleeve of her dress. Heavens; a single touch and she was reduced to a quivering wreck! She looked at the food set out on the table; soup, a brace of pigeons, a dish of mush rooms, apple pie—her appetite had disappeared.

  Nick took his seat at the table and watched Eve toying with her food. Something was amiss. She was upset; he could see it in her face, in the droop of her shoulders. She would tell him, before the night was out. Night. He wanted to pick her up now and carry her over to the bed and make love to her. Just the thought of it aroused him. She had been right to put that muslin about her shoulders; the sight of her soft round breasts pushing up from her gown was too damned distracting. He smiled, hoping he looked reassuring and not leering as he poured more wine into their glasses.

  ‘I suggest we postpone our…talk, until we have eaten.’

  He set to with a will, but he did not ignore her. He carved a few tasty slices of pigeon to tempt her appetite, spooned some of the mush rooms on to her plate and cut a sliver of the apple pie. She ate it dutifully, and he was relieved to see a little colour return to her cheeks.

  The waiters brought in another set of dishes, including a ragout of mutton and a sweet pastry. Eve was once more in command of herself and they managed to talk of common place things until they were alone once again.

  ‘So, is your investigation concluded now?’ she asked him, nibbling on a pastry.

  ‘Yes.’ The tip of her tongue was running across her bottom lip in a most sensuous fashion. He dragged his eyes away. ‘Yes,’ he said again. ‘I have made my reports. Captain George will escort the prisoners to London. I shall be obliged to go to town at some stage, but my work here is finished.’

  She nodded. ‘You will be anxious to return to your home, then. In Yorkshire.’

  ‘There are matters there that require my attention, undoubtedly.’ Now where was all this leading? ‘Estate management can be tedious, I know, but it must be done.’

  She was avoiding his eyes, looking into her wine glass as she murmured, ‘You would much rather be at sea, I think.’

  ‘Evelina—’ He reached for her hand across the table, but she snatched it away. As the waiters returned at that moment he let the matter drop, but he waited with im patience for the table to be cleared.

  ‘That will do,’ he said at length. ‘Leave the bottle and the glasses. You need not come back again.’ He smiled again at Eve. ‘Will you take a little more wine with me, madam? A toast to a job well done.’

  ‘Very well, sir. But now I think we should—we must—talk.’

  He rose from the table and held out his hand to her. ‘Then shall we sit by the fire?’

  He led her to one of the two arm chairs placed on either side of the hearth. She sank down and spent a few moments rearranging her skirts. One dusky curl fell forwards and lay across the white skin of her shoulder. He resisted the temptation to reach out and touch it and instead sat down opposite her.

  ‘Now, my love, what is it you want to say to me?’

  She did not answer him, but kept her eyes lowered, her fingers smoothing the creases from her petticoats. ‘Eve?’

  She looked up then, her dark eyes fixed upon him. ‘You said you must return to Yorkshire soon. I understand that. After all it is your home. I wondered if, perhaps, when you go north, you would allow me to remain at Monkhurst.’

  Nick sat very still. He had the strangest sensation that his world was teetering, about to fall. Now, at last, when he knew what he wanted, was she about to snatch it all away from him? He said quietly, ‘You regret our marriage.’

  She looked up quickly. ‘No! That is…’ She sighed and waved one of her hands in a gesture of hopelessness. ‘You married me to get Monkhurst. I know that, and I am not angry about it. I know that you did not intend to—to con sum mate the union. I believe you truly thought t
hat if…if we did not suit, then the marriage could be annulled.’ She gave a crooked little smile. ‘It did not quite work out like that, did it? We are bound, now. Irrevocably.’

  He shrugged. A cold hand was squeezing at his heart. ‘We are man and wife, sweet heart. For better, for worse. Until death.’

  Silently he cursed himself; he had not meant the words to sound so harsh. He saw the flicker of alarm cross her face. She jumped up from her chair and began to pace about the room.

  ‘But that’s so cruel, Nick. So unjust. We are too different. You crave adventure, excitement; catching smugglers, fighting for a cause, risking your life—it is what you do. I watched you, on board the yacht, dealing with the sailors. You are a natural leader, Nick. And—and when you were talking to Silas, about your life at sea, it all became clear to me. You miss it already.’ She turned to him, her eyes dark and troubled. ‘A life of quiet domesticity would not suit you, Nick. You would be miserable, and I do not want you to be miserable. You must be free to do as you wish. I know that, but I cannot bear the uncertainty of your life, knowing each time you ride off that you might not return. I would rather s-say goodbye now and live quietly at Monkhurst than have that re cur ring agony.’

  Nick closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. The world was righting itself again. ‘I thought we might go adventuring together.’

  Eve put her hands over her face and shook her head. Why would he not listen? Why did he make it so difficult for her? She had to make him under stand.

  ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘Do you not see? I would be a hindrance to you.’ Her hands dropped to her sides. ‘This time you risked everything to rescue me. I know, I like to think, that you would do the same again.’ She gave a sad little smile. ‘But you will not always be able to save the world and to save me, too.’

  He was out of his chair so quickly that she only had time to blink. He stood before her and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Is that what you think?’ he asked her. ‘That I cannot be happy unless I am courting danger? My sweet life, that may have been the case in the past, but not any more. My life changed when I met you; suddenly I had someone to live for.’ He gazed down at her, his eyes more serious than she had ever seen them. ‘Eve, when Bernard Shawcross put that bullet in me, I thought it better to let everyone think I was no longer alive. I thought we would round up Chelston and his gang and I could get back to you without you knowing anything about it. Then you wrote to tell me that your sheltered had died. That was the worst time of my life, sweet heart; I couldn’t be with you to comfort you in your loss and, even worse, I had put you in danger. I vowed then that when this was all over I would never put you at risk again. And I mean it, Eve. I intend to be a model husband from now on.’

  Eve blinked, trying to clear the hot tears that crowded her eyes and prickled her throat, making it difficult to speak.

  ‘I would like to believe you, Nick, but I cannot. I heard what Silas said, about the sea. It never lets go…’

  He caught her agitated hands and held them firm, his thumbs circling on the soft pads of her wrists, calming her. ‘Silas is a sailor to his core, but I—’ a sudden smile lit his eyes. ‘I am more of an adventurer. I enjoyed the navy, but I can leave it for a new challenge and there are plenty of those to be had. We are living in exciting times, Evelina; in my native Yorkshire there are manufactories springing up for spinning and weaving, with the new canals ready to carry as much as can be produced to London or to the coast. England is changing, Eve, and we should be part of that. I do not need to leave you, sweet heart; there are more than enough challenges for a man here at home, especially one with a wife at his side.’ He squeezed her fingers. ‘Well, what do you say? I am offering you everything, Eve, my heart as well as my hand. I love you, you know. Will you throw in your lot with me?’

  She stared into his face. There was no sign of the devil-may-care look now, only an anxious, earnest expression of a man awaiting his fate. That vulnerability was her undoing, it demolished the last of her defences.

  ‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘Oh, yes, Nick!’

  Slowly the earnest expression disappeared, replaced by a mixture of love and triumph and happiness. He gathered her in his arms and she melted into him. His mouth slid over hers and he kissed her in a thorough, unhurried manner that had her senses reeling. She leaned against him, dizzy and breathless. She felt his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘Open your eyes,’ he murmured. ‘I need you to stand up.’

  He was unlacing her bodice, his long fingers drawing out the strings with a smooth, steady rhythm.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  The wicked glance he gave made her racing pulse even more erratic. ‘This is a beautiful gown, sweet heart, but it is in my way.’

  Heat pooled low in her belly. It was an effort to keep still while the laces whipped out of the remaining eyelets and he pushed the bodice away from her shoulders. The silk fell to the floor with a whisper and she felt herself blush. The thought flashed through her mind that her cheeks probably matched her rose-coloured petticoats. She began to unbutton Nick’s waist coat. ‘Sauce for the goose, Captain Wyldfire,’ she murmured, provoking a shadow of desire in his blue eyes.

  Once she had helped him out of his jacket and waistcoat his hands slipped around her waist and stopped. He threw up his head, an arrested look on his face. ‘What’s this?’ He squeezed the large pad of wadding tied to her back.

  ‘It is a false rump.’ She choked on a laugh. ‘It is all the fashion.’

  ‘Well, we can do without it,’ he said, undoing the tapes and casting it aside. ‘You have a perfect rump without it.’ As if to prove his words he cupped her buttocks with his hands and pulled her to him. She gasped, feeling him hard and aroused against her belly. He lowered his head and trailed a line of butterfly kisses down her neck, causing her to moan softly. His hands moved up again to her waist. ‘I’ve a mind to take a knife to these stays,’ he muttered as his fingers tugged as the ribbons. ‘This is layer upon layer of armour.’

  She laughed, feeling her power over him. ‘That is exactly it, to protect me from your wicked ways.’

  Nick tilted up her chin and gazed at her. ‘Do you want to be protected from me?’

  Her insides had turned to water. Eve ran her tongue across her lower lip and shook her head. She did not think she could speak. His smouldering glance held her eyes while his fingers eased the ribbons loose. The friction vibrated against her body, sending ripples of pleasure through her limbs. Once the confining stays had been cast off he pushed aside her chemise and gathered her to him, pressing her flesh against his. For a heart beat she remained frozen in pleasure, arching towards him, then the world exploded around them. Nick was kissing her neck, her face, trailing hot kisses over her eyelids. They were both gasping, eyes wild as the remainder of their clothes were discarded. With a growl Nick swung Eve into his arms and carried her to the bed. She clung to him, pulling him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist as if to bind him to her for ever.

  She drove her fingers through his hair, guiding his lips back to her own where she gave him back kiss for kiss. This was no gentle embrace, it was fierce, furious possession and Eve revelled in it. She ran her fingers down his back, exploring the contours, delighting in the iron muscles rippling under the skin. Nick’s hands roamed her body, exploring and caressing, gently arousing her until she groaned, arching her back and thrusting her hips forward, inviting him in. He shifted his body, covering her, their bodies moving together, faster, harder until Eve could no longer control her own responses. She dug her nails into Nick’s broad back, crying out as a spasm of pure pleasure rippled through her. She heard Nick shout out. He gave one last, final thrust and she felt herself falling, tumbling as if from a great height.

  Nick rolled over and collapsed beside her on the tangled bed sheets. He reached out and caught her hand, twining his fingers with hers.

  ‘Well, madam, are you satisfied?’

  She turned her head to loo
k at him. His naked chest was rising and falling rapidly, his skin gleaming and golden in the candle light. She smiled. ‘For the moment.’

  He raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at her. ‘For the moment, hmm?’ He drew one finger lightly across her breasts. They tightened immediately at his touch. ‘You are going to be a challenge, Mrs Wylder.’

  She rested her hands on her belly. ‘I think we may have another challenge ahead of us, Nick. It is too early to be certain, but…’

  He stared at her, a slight crease in his brows, then his eyes lit up and he gave a wide, unstoppable grin. ‘Oh, lord, I never meant for that to happen.’

  She sat up. ‘Oh, you are not happy,’ she said, dismayed.

  ‘Happy?’ He caught her to him. ‘I think I must be the happiest man alive! Oh, but should you not be resting? Should I not even be kissing you, or…you know?’

  She blushed at the thought of ‘you know’, her toes curling up with pleasure. ‘I do not believe we must give up our pleasures just yet, my love.’

  He lowered her back down on to the bed and kissed her nose. ‘Now that is a good thing. Because I have just realised that we have been apart for most of our married life. We have some time to make up.’

  Eve allowed her glance to stray down wards. A tiny, mischievous smile curved her lips. ‘Well, we have all night, my love…’

  ISBN:978-1-4268-7008-8

  WICKED CAPTAIN, WAYWARD WIFE

  Copyright © 2010 by Sarah Mallory

  First North American Publication 2010

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, M3B 3K9 Canada.