A Lesson in Presumption

by Jennifer Connors

  Once gone, Ginny asked, “I hope he's competent as a sailor, since he certainly lacks in the social graces.” After the words left her mouth, she could hardly believe she'd spoken them. Apparently, a little of Lady Gammage still existed.

  Placing his napkin on his plate, Northwood muttered, “He is a fine officer, if somewhat set in his ways.”

  Sensing a change come over Northwood, Ginny gave him her attention. When he only stared back, she finally asked, “What plans do you have for me, Jeremy?”

  Taking her hand from where it rested on the table, Northwood examined it carefully. It was soft, unused to the heavy work of servants on the islands. It distressed him to think of them becoming hard and calloused. Rubbing his thumb across her palm, he said, “I have a home on Hispaniola. It isn't large, but it is well equipped. I plan to retire there someday. Perhaps you could keep house for me until then?”

  He wasn't looking at her, so Ginny took a moment to examine his features. When on deck, the captain looked like the commander he was. His face gave off an air of leadership that most people could only dream of aspiring to. Ginny had always been attracted to strong men, hating any man who came off as needy. But at that moment, in the lamplight, Jeremy Northwood looked disarmed and vulnerable.

  Her voice low, she asked, “As a servant?”

  His eyes met hers when he responded, “No, not as a servant.”

  The intensity she saw there was like a shock of warmth to her belly. Ginny's lips parted as she tried to retrieve more oxygen. His warm hands still cradled her own and Ginny realized that for the first time in her life, in any of her adventures, she was desperately horny. She had little connection to this man, unlike her other heroes. Although she owed him her gratitude for his treatment of her, if not for other factors, she wouldn't typically consider sleeping with him after such a short acquaintance. But, this time around was not going to be typical.

  Ginny reached over and grabbed the captain by the scruff of his neck and pulled him to her. Without thinking of the consequences, tired of worrying about every detail, Ginny placed her lips on his and kissed him. At first, his lips were stiff and unyielding, most likely in surprise, Ginny surmised. But after only a moment, his hands cupped her face and he returned her affection ten-fold.

  Ginny could grasp everything that was happening, but was in no position to stop it. She heard his chair fall over when he abruptly pulled her from her chair and lifted her up. Registering the dance they did across the cabin to his berth, Ginny became more breathless with each button his fingers undid on her shirt. When removed all together, her lazy gaze took in the top of his head as his lips lowered to taste the creamy skin above her chemise.

  Their movements became clumsy when they tried to remove their boots, but after much patience, they were both successful. The rest of their clothing followed until both fell heavily onto the bed. Jeremy took no time to assert his authority and positioned himself on top of her body. It gave him a chance to taste every part of her within his reach.

  Jeremy was certainly no virgin, but even after holding the position of captain for so many years, he'd not had a woman in his berth. The women he'd sought out over the years usually had their own accommodations. He'd never thought to commingle his ship life with that of his shore life. But ever since the first night Corliss had come on board, he was desperate to have her. Not until that morning had he thought she'd felt the same way. Her casual flirting had left him with hope that maybe she would be willing to consider his proposition.

  He knew that he would never deliver her to the plantation owner that the Gammage family had chosen. Knowing the dowager, the man would be supremely cruel, in retaliation for her crime. He had hoped she would consider living at his home until other arrangements could be made if she hadn't the inclination to stay with him. But now, he would get so much more.

  Ginny relished his warm breath against her skin. He slowly made his way down to her breasts, savoring each slowly before moving down further. When he lifted her leg to kiss her inner thigh, she was almost embarrassed at how wet she was for him. He soon knew just how much she wanted this coupling, when his fingers entered her and his thumb caressed her clit.

  Her body moved on automatic pilot, her back arching to his ministrations. With his hand busy, his lips went back to savoring her breasts, neck and lips. She heard his whispered praise, letting her know that she was a sight to behold before him.

  Ginny reached down and grabbed him. She hadn't gotten a good look at him with all the clothing flying off, but now that she held him in her hand, she was well satisfied that Jeremy would not let her down. Running her fingers up and down the length of him, she heard him murmur, “Oh, God, Corliss.” Smiling at his glazed eyes, she led him over her and encouraged him without words to enter her.

  The head had only broken the surface of her body when there was a knock on the door. They both stared at each in mock horror at the interruption. Northwood, unsure if it was emergency or not, called out, “Go away.” The sound of light footsteps echoed and they both realized it had been Digby to collect the dishes.

  Whispering in her ear, Jeremy stated, “He can come back later,” as he continued to enter her slowly. With each small step forward, he retreated, causing a friction that Ginny found delicious. The whole affair was decadent, allowing her the chance to set her own rules for once. Thumbing her nose at the storyline, she gasped when he'd finally fully embedded himself in her.

  Looking down at her with concern, he asked, “Are you well?”

  Smiling, she stated, “I won't be until we finish this.”

  Taking her meaning, Jeremy began the oldest dance in the world. Both partners setting the rhythm, it wasn't long before Ginny was panting her release. She knew she had to stifle her cries, although she doubted that it would take long before every member of the crew knew exactly what was happening between her and the captain.

  Jeremy watched her orgasm vividly play across her face. Feeling the spasms of her body, he abruptly pulled out and spent himself on her stomach. As much as he wanted to complete himself inside her, he didn't want her pregnant. He would, of course, take full care of her in the event, but as a man set in his ways after living as he pleased for so long, he didn't want the added complication of a child.

  Falling next to her, Jeremy pulled her body up against his own, making sure to grab a towel to clean up his mess. The berth was small, but with the two spooned to together, there was more than enough room to be comfortable. Neither was willing to break the silence, simply enjoying the feel of each other's warm body and slowing heartbeat.

  After a time, Jeremy needed to make sure she was pleased. “I hope that was as enjoyable for you as it was for me, my lady.”

  Chuckling, her voice still husky from the exertion, Ginny responded, “I wouldn't think that my reaction could leave you in any doubt, Jeremy.”

  “Still, a man likes to know when he has done a good job,” he said, lazily running his hand up and down her arm.

  “Well, then, you did a good job.” There were other things that Ginny wanted to ask, to know. At that moment, though, she just wanted to enjoy her good orgasm and forget about the rest of the stuff going on. That would be enough.

  As she lay there in his arms, she heard his breathing even out and become steady. Knowing he was asleep, Ginny decided it would probably be best if they weren't caught together. Not only embarrassing, she had no way of knowing if it would cause problems. The last thing she wanted was causing her savior problems.

  Rising, Ginny took the covers that she could get and covered the captain up. Once dressed, she carried her boots to her own cabin and went about getting ready for bed. They were heading for the Canary Islands, where they would pick up more supplies before making their journey across the Atlantic. One step closer to her real destiny, whatever this book had to offer.

  Chapter 7

  Captain Nathaniel Webster was sitting in a small dive pub not far from the wharf. His ship, the Victory Sound, awaited his p
resence before they would ship off to the West Indies. On the surface, the captain and crew were merely merchant seamen, carrying goods and people between Europe and the Americas. Truthfully, on occasion, Webster took advantage and pirated Spanish and French vessels.

  As an Englishman, he refused to plunder ships from his own country, although there were many of his crew who could have cared less, patriotism being damned in the name of profit. But ultimately, it was his neck on the line, as the British Navy left him to his own devices as long as he left them to theirs. Occasionally, the navy would assist him, if only to share in the bounty.

  Drinking a particularly vile swill that the pub owner brewed himself, he glanced out the window at the docks of Las Palmas in the Canary Islands. The port was eclectic in its patronage, as Webster heard at least five different languages being spoken in the dingy room. Although he could afford much better, there was always a chance to hear valuable gossip about who might be leaving and to where.

  The door opened from the outside, revealing an over-sized man who barely fit through the doorway. Bald as a newborn baby, the man spotted his prey and made his way into the room. Stopping in front of Webster, the man grabbed an unoccupied chair from another table and sat down, making himself at home.

  The bar maid rushed over and plunked a tankard of ale before the giant. Without a word, the man handed her a coin and gave her a disturbing smile. The girl rushed away again without a sound, in what looked like fear for her life.

  Webster regarded the man across from him for a moment. Even with his enormous size, the man wasn't ugly. A better term would be brutish, but still with his light green eyes and clear complexion, he wasn't grotesque. Still, Webster thought to himself, who was he to judge.

  “What can I do for you, Frederick?” Webster asked in his cultured drawl.

  Raising an eyebrow in response, the man took a heavy swig from his tankard. “You know I hate that name, Nathaniel,” he responded, drawing out his captain's name to irritate him in return.

  “Gideon does not suit you, my friend. Perhaps, something more appropriate... like Baldy.”

  The giant looked as though he considered it for a moment. “I like Gideon better. More like a pirate, if you ask me.”

  Shrugging off the conversation, Webster asked, “What brings you here? We are not setting sail for some time yet.”

  Reaching beneath his coat, Gideon retrieved a letter, looking battered from its journey. Before handing over the missive, Gideon explained, “The man who delivered it wanted only to give it to you. I convinced him that I was trustworthy enough to deliver it for him.”

  Both eyebrows raised at that bit of information. “And will the man ever walk again, I wonder.”

  “Of course, Captain. I can be very convincing without hurting anyone.”

  “Indeed. Well, then, after so much trouble, I had better have a look at it.”

  The letter was handed over and Webster broke the seal, which immediately told him it was from his aunt. The old battle-ax was probably going to wax rhapsodic over some perceived slight to the family. Often, he used her letters as entertainment, on those long journeys without much else to do.

  After a few sentences, Webster sat up straighter, not believing his eyes.

  “What is it, Captain? Bad news from home?” Gideon asked, having recognized the seal himself.

  “My cousin, the Earl of Gammage is dead.”

  Shaking his head back and forth, Gideon said, “I am awfully sorry to hear that. Were the two of you close?”

  Nathaniel didn't answer, but kept reading the details of the missive. When finally completed, he gave his attention back to his first in command. “Well, it seems that his wife killed him. I missed quite a bit, since a trial was avoided and the woman was sentenced to deportation to the West Indies.”

  Gideon knew when not to respond. If the captain wanted him to know, he would tell him in his own time. Tamping down his curiosity, Gideon continued to drink his ale.

  “To answer your question, I had not seen my cousin in over ten years. He and I grew up together, but he was a few years older and left long before I did.”

  “What happened to 'im? Did she shoot 'im?”

  “According to the letter, she pushed him down and he died from a blow to the head. I just cannot understand how she avoided the gallows. Is it not still a hanging offense to kill a peer of the realm?”

  Gideon shrugged. “Hard to say, seeing that most of them could use a good killing.”

  “But not my family, Gideon. I know he had married some young thing only a couple of years ago. She must have been insane. That is the only explanation as to why they did not hang her.”

  Nathaniel had a strange relationship with his family. His mother was the youngest child of the Earl of Gammage. Although raised in the finest environment, educated at Oxford, he decided to leave behind the life of a gentleman to pursue his dream of living on the seas. Over the years, he worked at every position there was on a merchant ship. His own mother, God rest her soul, died with such disappointment over her only son. It was always her wish to have a cultured son, who wore the latest fashions and buckled shoes, married to a young heiress, surrounded by children. The mere thought gave him hives.

  But his cousin, back then known as Timmy, had fulfilled the family's every hope. Once graduated from school, he took over the running of the estates from his then ailing father. It was right after Nathaniel's uncle died, leaving the title to Timmy that Nathaniel had left, never looking back. He hadn't even returned for his mother's funeral, which was six months after he even had learned of her death.

  His aunt, the dowager, had kept him apprised of the family's situation. God only knew why, since it was plain that she was just as disappointed with him as his own mother had been. And yet, the letters came with some regularity, when he could be reached and not gallivanting across the ocean as the old crone had put it.

  He remembered the letter with news of Timmy's marriage. His aunt was not one to give out compliments too often, but after the wedding, she did say that the young woman was ideal for her son, and would surely give him heirs. The subsequent letters grew less flattering toward the young woman, explaining that they had been tricked into marrying a barren girl, with little culture and less grace.

  Still, Timmy had not deserved the end he received. He could be harsh in his criticism, a trait he gained from growing up in the countess's household. The more thought he gave it, the more it made him angry that the woman in question could get away with her life intact, given the gift of deportation over hanging.

  Gideon looked excited for a moment, when he asked, “Did you inherit the title? Should I be referring to you as 'my lord' now?”

  Nathaniel's eyes scrunched together at the awful thought of being the next Earl of Gammage. “Sorry, old friend. I hate to disappoint you, but I have three cousins who stood to inherit before I did, should Timmy not have a son.”

  “Timmy?” Gideon asked, twinkle of amusement on his big face.

  “Timothy, really, but we all called him Timmy growing up.”

  “Will you be wanting to go home for a visit? Congratulate the new Earl and all?”

  Nathaniel looked stricken. “Dear God, no. Though I am quite curious as to how the girl avoided the gallows. My aunt provided information of which ship she was on and where she was being transported to.”

  “You want to hunt her down and talk to her? Cannot see why you would care. You have not shown much interest in your family since I have known you.”

  “I find myself very curious.” Nathaniel looked down at the date of the letter. It stated that she was to leave a week ago. His aunt must have posted the letter as soon as the decision was made. Although she didn't specifically write such, Nathaniel knew that he was expected to ensure that the woman received her proper punishment, that he not let the injustice stand. With no taste for cold-blooded murder, he wasn't sure that he would resort to killing her himself. Instead, he would make sure that her living conditions
were sparse and befitting.

  “Come now, let us go. I have to find out if there has been any word of the ship Timmy's wife is on. They will have to stop here before going onto the West Indies. Maybe we will have a bit of luck and I can speak to her before they sail again.”

  Gideon chugged the rest of his ale and used his arm to wipe his mouth. “Whatever you say, Captain.” With that, both men made their way from the pub, both with very different thoughts on their minds.

  Chapter 8

  Ginny woke up late the next morning, relishing in the decadence that sleeping in can provide. Stretching her body, both her hands and feet hitting something in the small room, Ginny looked like a lazy cat. The question was would she simply roll over and return to her blissful slumber, or would she get up and do something. Not wanting to appear spoiled, Ginny got up and prepared for the day.