“I am most grateful, and I am forever your humble servant,” Cyrus said, and bowed his head. He was thinking of much more than making them an example, however. If even one of them had so much as touched his precious Margaret, he would take them apart with his bare hands.
* * *
Maisie awoke from a deep sleep to find the captain gone, presumably up to the deck to take charge of his ship again. Sighing, she savored the satiated state she awoke in. As she did so it occurred to her that it might have been even better if she had awoken before he did. The satiated feeling gave way to a new hunger—a hunger for more. Was that how it would be now that she’d coupled with a lover? Startled at the way her body throbbed in response to the notion, she sat up.
Nearby, on the railed shelf close to the bed, she discovered he had left a small flagon of ale. She drank thirstily. Next to the flagon stood a wooden box, inside which she found some hard biscuits, oatcakes. They were surprisingly tasty despite their rough consistency.
Rising, Maisie located the pail the captain had pointed out to relieve herself in, then tentatively examined her body before she dressed.
Her breasts were tender and her nipples peaked instantly when she touched them, quickly reminding her of the pleasures she had experienced the night before. It filled her with wonder. Whilst she knew it would be an important change in her life, both as a woman and as a young witch whose craft would be enriched by engaging in carnal acts, she’d had no idea of the newfound awareness she would enjoy. She moved her hands over her body, testing here and there. Responsive, sensitive and eager, her skin tingled. Moreover, that sense of ability that bubbled in her belly when she was sure of her magic was greatly magnified. She had indeed been enriched, and she couldn’t resist exploring it.
Lifting her hands, she allowed her power to flow out from her uplifted palms, and marveled at the intensity of the heat and light that rose from her. For the first time, she truly felt that her magic came from within. The sensual fulfillment had anchored it within her. Previously, the magic knowledge that had been handed down to her was a starting point. It was something she initiated, as if she trickered the first in a chain of events. It felt very different now, as if she were the source itself, rather than the tricker.
As she stood there marveling at it, the ship encountered rougher waters and rocked this way and that in rapid succession. Tempted by that, Maisie put out her hands and channeled her vitality into the waves surrounding the ship. Whispering low under her breath, she bade the elements good day and requested calm waters. Closing her eyes, she absorbed every moment of the experience, noticing how she felt as if she were part of the ocean when it churned more gently, as if she were locked into it.
“It truly has altered me,” she whispered, scarcely able to believe it.
She pushed up her hair with her hands, securing it with several pins that she retrieved from the pocket of her gown, and even as she flexed her neck and stretched, she could feel her own power swelling within. It would be so much easier now for her to protect herself. It would be tempting to evoke change, and she knew she must keep a leash on her skills in order not to be exposed and ousted, as her mother had been.
It was little wonder Cyrus wanted to be in control of this moment, she reflected, for her power was already so much greater. She felt invigorated by the lovemaking she’d enjoyed, more confident in every way—in her magic, and as a woman.
There was great pleasure in that, too.
Moving her fingers lower, between the folds of her intimate place, she discovered that whilst she was tender there and somewhat swollen, it felt good. Pressing deeper, she found she had not been unreasonably rearranged, as she’d feared she might when she caught sight of the size of the captain’s engorged manhood. Apparently her body had not only accommodated it, but already craved it again. When she moved her fingers inside, she became aroused and thought immediately of being filled by the captain’s proud length.
Is this how it should be? She sat down on the bed and reclined, trailing her fingers over her sensitive folds. Standing proudly, her swollen nub reacted to the movement of her slippery fingers over it. Maisie pressed back into the mattress, her lips parting. She felt rich beyond wealth, decadent and womanly, and her powers simmered within. It was much more than she had expected, and as she massaged herself closer to release, she felt awed. Would it have been this powerful with another lover? Or was it because the captain had proved to be a skilled lover and a good match for her, once they had scrabbled through the strange arrangement and got down to the carnal act?
Shocked at herself, she pushed two fingers inside, imagining his cock probing there. Immediately a radiant sensation sprang free in her groin, and her hips rose on instinct, her fingers sliding deeper. The lingering sensitivity of her flesh was quickly eased by a surge of hot juices. It was good. It was also undeniably bound to the occurrences of the night before. When she had touched herself there before, tentatively, in her virginal state, there was yearning, and sometimes sudden flashes of pleasure, but this was different. Her mind locked on the captain’s image and the way he had been so determined, so manly and virile, as he thrust inside her. Each stroke she made along her supple flesh was encouraged by imaginings and memories.
How good it had felt to have him arched over, to admire the way he pivoted as he thrust into her, bearing his weight on his strong arms as he pushed them both into ecstasy. His erection had seemed indomitable, and when he had erupted it was with barely controlled power, his pursuit of pleasure visible as he stroked his fist up and down his length.
Then her memory took her to that later encounter and the image of his head between her legs. Recalling his thick, unruly hair beneath her fingers, she felt an echo of his mouth on her, the way he had brought her to fruition with his tongue and his reverent kisses. It had been wildly passionate, shocking and undeniably pleasurable. Mimicking his actions, she remembered the way he had manipulated his hand and stroked her inside and out at the same time. While she recalled his eagerness and his smile when he brought her off, she spilled anew. Startled and delighted, she closed her eyes and her lips parted.
She could have dozed, but she was curious about him, Roderick, and what he was doing. When a creak sounded nearby, she glanced at the door expectantly. No one entered, so she arose.
Once she was dressed, she sat patiently on the edge of the bed and studied each and every item in the cabin from her perch. When she was done with that, she concentrated on the noises the ship made, those creaks and groans that sounded alarming at first, but became an almost harmonious musical performance as the hours passed.
Then her patience began to wane.
From the time they could stand on their own two feet, both she and her sister were forever running about, with a distinct lack of patience. Their mother used to comment on it often. They were easily bored, and their mother said that even Lennox, who was older and used to running about by himself, was more able to sit quietly if need be. That didn’t make it any easier for Maisie to sit still now. She couldn’t help it.
Besides, she had no idea what time of day it was, and longed to see the sun and the sky so that she could work it out. The captain had ordered her to stay in the cabin below deck, but Maisie could not resist the call to go above, to take the air. She might even make herself useful, which would be better than sitting here trying to gauge the time of day while the greasy candle spluttered in its lantern. Buckling on her boots, she made ready to leave the captain’s quarters.
The narrow walkway outside was dank and dark, and she put a hand on either wall to make her way along it. At its end, the wooden ladder that led up to the deck was as she remembered it, rickety and treacherous. Determined not to be put off by her strange surroundings, she carefully climbed the ladder and stepped out into the elements on deck. Closing the hatch from which she emerged, she made her way to one side. As she had the evening before, she took shelter in a corner close to the deck above, where she could hear activities going on.
Inhaling the damp, salty air, she breathed in gratefully. Out here on the ocean the elements wound their way into her, lighting her spirit. They called to her vividly as the ship drifted over the waves, freed of land and the trappings of civilized life. It made her harken back to her early life in the Highlands, where people lived in harmony with the elements and with the seasons, moving within the rhythms of time and tide.
Maisie peered across the water at the distant shoreline. It was too far away for her to make out the details, but she saw the colors of the cliffs and the changing height of the coast, the occasional bay marked by a blur of cottages. She tried to gauge how fast they were traveling. It was so hard to tell, but she knew it was faster than traveling on land by coach. That’s why she had tried to find a ship to take her. Besides, the ship continued to travel through the night, aided by the tides and the wind in the sails, making progress, where a coach and horses would have to rest at an inn overnight. A break in her journey like that might mean her master would find her.
A dark shiver went through her as she considered what Cyrus’s reaction to her absence might have been. She tried not to think upon it—tried to convince herself that he would not pursue her. But she knew it was futile. He had invested many years in her, nurturing her craft, using it to further his progress in government matters. Now that she was a grown woman his plans had evolved, and the hints that he had given about his ambitions—aided by her, of course—frightened her. His plans had been a long time in the making.
She knew now what he’d done. Cyrus had hunted high and low in Scotland for a suitable young girl, a magical child that he could bring up as his ward. Following rumors of witches and news of oustings, he’d traveled a trail that would also be marked by funeral pyres. Hunting down the orphans, he’d examined them for magical ability, potential and appeal. He’d wanted a child who would rely on him for her safety, a child who would be grateful enough to weave spells at his command. Maisie shuddered to think about how mercenary he had been and how he had duped Mama Beth into thinking it was her need for a child that had led him to such extreme measures. Cyrus had promised his wife that a child who had been brought up under such trying circumstances would be grateful and loving. In this twisted web of lies, hope and fear, he kept them both under his control.
Now Maisie had broken free.
Cyrus did not know where she was bound and why, but where else would she go but home to the Highlands of Scotland? He’d made promises, but he’d also tried to get her to break with her lineage and forget her young days in Fingal, making her focus instead on her mother’s death in the Lowlands. The older Maisie got the more obvious his trickery was and the more wary of him she became. Her heritage was not easily forgotten, though, and neither were her siblings, Jessie and Lennox. She had to find them. She could only hope that she would be able to disappear north, into the Highlands, before Cyrus closed in on her.
“What in God’s name are you doing above deck?”
Maisie leaped with fright, startled from her thoughts by the captain’s booming voice close at her side.
“I told you that you’d have to stay out of the men’s way,” he said, his brow deeply furrowed.
“I came up to take the air for a few moments,” she retorted, rankled that he seemed so intent on keeping her locked up. She had just ridded herself of one tyrant. She did not want to replace him with another, especially when she would be with this one for only a matter of days. “I didn’t think that much would be disagreeable to you,” she added with sarcasm.
“It is.” He grumbled and loomed over her, almost as if he intended to hide her from the rest of the men on deck with the shield of his body. To no avail. She could see them craning their necks and whispering to one another as they went about their duties.
“You cannot expect a soul to survive down there for long.” She jerked her head toward the hatch.
“You’d be surprised.” When he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the men hovering, many of them blatantly staring as their captain conversed with her, he grumbled some more.
His hair was swept back from his face and Maisie searched his craggy features, momentarily captured by the way he looked, and distracted from her retorts. Despite the cool autumnal air he wore no coat, and his shirt hung open to his breastbone, as if he cared little for his appearance. Why did that catch her attention? Maisie looked him over, admiring the way his body tapered from broad shoulders down to hard, narrow hips. Hips that had been against hers.
Clutching the railing at her back, she steadied herself.
“You can survive down there well enough,” he added. “It’s safer than being up here, especially for a lady such as yourself. Now get back below deck and be quick about it.”
Maisie saw no sense in it. She looked beyond and gauged the men’s reactions. Some of them frowned, while others laughed and whispered and nudged each other. “Your men have seen me now, so what is the point in sending me back down there?”
Roderick’s head snapped back to meet her gaze. “If I had known what a contrary sort you are you would still be in Billingsgate begging for passage. I’m responsible for everyone on this ship, and that includes all of the shipmen and any passengers. It is for your protection and my men’s sanity that I ordered you to stay in the comfortable quarters you have been given.”
Maisie was about to take issue with his opinion of what might constitute comfortable quarters, then thought better of it. She hadn’t seen the other cabins below deck, and if they were worse, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But she did want to see the sky and the elements at play. Besides, she had become intrigued about life aboard ship, and how the sailors worked with the weather in order to cover great distances so quickly. “I refuse to be locked away for the duration of this voyage, and I am here with good intentions. Surely there is some task I can do that will help you in the running of the ship.”
The captain looked at her as if she were insane.
“Captain...Roderick.” She softened her tone in an attempt to appeal to the good nature she had witnessed the night before, that which underlay this rough exterior of his. “You have been most accommodating, and I know you mean well. However, I feel sure I might be useful instead of being hidden away.”
He narrowed his eyes.
She looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, and smiled.
He muttered under his breath and then glanced about again. “I suppose you might assist Adam with some of his tasks.” Turning back, he ran his eyes up and down her figure. “You’ll be a temptation to the men, so I must warn you not to flaunt yourself. I cannot afford to have my crew distracted and the ship land on the rocks because a fine woman has turned their heads.”
A fine woman? Was that what he thought of her? Maisie couldn’t help being pleased.
Closing on her, Roderick grasped the cotton of her shift where it showed at the top of her bodice, and wrenched it higher.
His action surprised her. It also aroused her to have his hands on her that way, and the tug of the cloth against her breasts was most stimulating. “Whatever are you doing?”
“Protecting your modesty.”
Maisie found herself greatly amused.
When she laughed, he gave her a stern look. “If you are to be cavorting about, please attempt to cover yourself.”
“Cavorting? I offered to work.” The wild tingling in her breasts made her feel quite reckless. She put her hand against her bodice to quell the arousal he had set in motion, but pressing against her gown only made the situation worse. Apparently, now that she had been initiated as a woman, her state of readiness for her lover remained high. Would it always be that way for her, now that she had been awakened, or was it the prowess of her lover that made her feel that way? She wouldn’t know, she supposed, until she was no longer with him. Maisie quickly found she didn’t want to consider that yet. She was enjoying her time with Captain Roderick Cameron.
“And if you work,” he replied, “you need to cover
your bosom.”
It was in such contrast to his behavior the night before that she had to quell her laughter. “You seemed more intent on uncovering my bosom last night, Captain.”
He shook his head and gave a deep, heartfelt sigh. “I was aware your presence would cause me trouble. I did not realize quite how much.”
He looked at her meaningfully.
Maisie saw that her arousal had affected him, too, or perhaps mention of him having her the night before. From under heavy-lidded eyes he looked at her, his lips tightly pursed as if he was holding back from kissing her.
That would be a terrible error, if his intention was to shield his men from her femininity aboard ship. “I did not mean to be a burden to you.”
“What you are is a temptation, and it is bad enough that I succumbed.” The hungry look he gave her aroused her so much that she swayed toward him.
“I did not think it bad.”
His eyebrows lifted. “’Tis good to see you so much less burdened, Miss Maisie. You have a beautiful smile.”
“Why, thank you, Captain Roderick,” she whispered.
He leaned closer. “May I perhaps take credit for bringing that smile to your lovely face?”
Laughing softly, she tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “If you mean to ask about your lovemaking, then yes, I find I am a woman fulfilled since our encounter.”
His lips curled and his eyes gleamed.
How attractive his mouth was. Maisie ached to kiss it, and his stubbled chin made her want to clasp his jaw as she did so. It was far too easy to banter amorously with him and fan the flames of their mutual interest. Dangerous, too, perhaps. She should be thinking about safe passage to Dundee, about concealing her identity and planning for the onward journey, not about bedding the captain once more. However, his rugged, brazen masculinity made her want to wrap her arms around him and insist he take her back to his quarters to pleasure her again. What am I thinking, acting this way?
The Jezebel Page 8