She took a deep breath, trying to clear away the lingering slivers of desire. She needed to think clearly. She was going to get breakfast and act normally. Pretend none of this happened.
She walked back down the small passage and rapped on Pippa’s door. “Are you well, Pippa? We would like breakfast if you can manage.”
The muffled sounds emerging from the room did not inspire confidence, so she strode with purpose back down the small passage to go find something to break their fast. She was met by a stocky, red-faced fellow with something that might possibly resemble a breakfast tray.
“Sustenance to renew the strength of the newlyweds,” he said with a toothy grin.
Colette cleared her throat and glared at him until the grin subsided. She did not care if she was a merchant’s wife; she would not tolerate insolence—although the food tray was a kind gesture. “Thank you, you are very kind,” she said, making amends for the glare, and was rewarded with another grin.
She took the tray and walked carefully down the passage, lifting the latch with an elbow and turning to push the door open with her back, so that she would not spill the contents of the tray. “Met a crewman who brought a meal for us.” She set the tray on the small table.
“Err, I kenned ye would take longer. I’m no’ quite dressed.”
His warning came too late, for she had already turned around. The great plaid was stretched out on the floor and his was lying on top of it—utterly, completely naked. It was a good thing she had already set down the tray or she would surely have dropped it. In an instant, she took in his muscular chest, his powerful thighs, but she could not tear her gaze away from him, so, so naked. Hugely naked. Massively naked. Oh so very, very naked.
Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. She should scream and run out. Perhaps that was what he expected. Perhaps it was what he was waiting for. She was waiting for it too. Any second now, she would scream in horror and run.
But she didn’t. She wasn’t even properly horrified. She was intrigued. The flames of desire she had tried to squelch came roaring back to life. She either needed to dangle herself out the window or be in his arms, for nothing else would keep her away from him.
She took a step toward him, and he sat up. She glanced at the window and back at him. The window option was not going to win. What was she thinking? She needed to get herself under control. She turned and stepped to the door.
“Forgive me. I was just putting on the plaid. It’s the only way, ye ken,” he said in a rough rumble of a voice.
No she did not “ken.” She stared at the open door for a moment longer, then kicked it closed with herself still inside. She turned slowly back toward him, just as he was standing up, his great plaid hastily wrapped around him. It didn’t matter now. The image of him in all his naked glory would be forever etched in her mind.
“Under your plaid, you wear nothing?”
“Aye, m’lady. I hope I dinna shock ye.”
Colette stepped closer. “Shocking, yes. Convenient too.” She took another step closer.
It was his turn to open his eyes wide. “So…what is for our breakfast?”
“Are you hungry?” she purred.
Gavin’s jaw went slack for a moment before he pulled himself together. “Colette, my lass, if ye’re trying to seduce me, ye know it winna take much effort. I’m well past halfway there.”
“Then for once we agree on something.” She took another slow, deliberate step closer.
“But what about your father and Laird—”
She did not wish to hear what he was going to say so she kissed him. Truly, it was her only defense. She may have initiated the kiss, but Gavin was not slow to respond. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her tight against his firm body, deepening the kiss. One of his hands held her closer, and the other slid down to cup her bottom, lifting her clean off the floor. She wound her arms around his neck and held on, pure molten desire coursing through her veins, drowning out all conscious thought.
It was the kiss she had been wanting since she had met him. And now that her one desire had been sated, it was replaced by several more. She was not entirely sure what happened between a man and a woman, but she was more than willing to find out in Gavin’s arms.
“Lady Colette? Sir Gavin? I’m here as you asked,” came Pippa’s voice at the door.
“Ignore her,” whispered Gavin, pulling Colette tighter.
“Lady Colette?” Pippa called louder, knocking sharply on the door.
“She’ll go away,” whispered Gavin.
Pippa knocked again, and Frances woke up with a whimper and a scream.
“Pippa might, but she won’t,” said Colette miserably. Reluctantly, she stepped back, and equally as unwillingly, Gavin let her go.
“We cannot do this. It is madness,” said Colette, reality hitting her with the piercing cries of the baby. “We almost… The marriage would have been legal…and I am still promised to another!”
Gavin ran his fingers through his hair. “Ye ken how I feel about ye. Best thing is to avoid each other as much as possible, for I canna resist ye, Colette, and that is the honest truth.”
“Agreed,” said Colette over the din of the crying and the knocking. She felt like throwing a fit herself, for the one person she desired was forever forbidden.
She turned and opened the door to Pippa, who if she did not look completely well was at least a lighter shade of green and standing on her own feet. Pippa didn’t waste time on pleasantries but instead picked up the baby, soothing her.
“I’ll be moving into yer cabin, Pippa, and letting ye stay here with m’lady to care for the babe,” announced Gavin in a resigned tone, his large, brown eyes sad.
He walked toward her at the door and paused beside Colette. “I shall miss ye always,” he whispered.
“If I were free to choose…” she whispered back, allowing her words to trail off.
At the door, Gavin stole a quick kiss. “Fare thee well, my love. Ye may no’ be free to love as ye will, but my heart beats true and only for ye.”
Twenty-seven
By mutual consent, Colette and Gavin stayed apart for the next several days. While they could not avoid seeing each other on the small ship, they could contrive never to be alone in each other’s company. It was simply too dangerous. Colette needed to arrive in Scotland with the ability to dissolve the unconsummated marriage, not well and truly wed to the wrong man. Except Sir Gavin did not feel like the wrong man.
Not able to trust herself, Colette stuck to Pippa and never stirred from the cabin they now shared without her. If the crew was aware that Gavin had changed cabins, it was explained by him wanting a good night’s sleep without the baby. He was still courteous and affectionate when they were together before others, and now Colette knew it was more than a ruse.
Several days into their journey, the wind picked up, and by late afternoon the seas were high and the ship began to pitch. Ominous black storm clouds rolled overhead, giving Colette an uneasy feeling. Gavin, never a man to remain still for long, lent a hand to the crew, fighting the stiff wind to keep the ship on course.
At the first raindrops hitting her nose, Colette went back inside to the cabin, having to take some care in walking across the rolling decks. In the cabin, Pippa was holding Marie Frances, looking a bit green once more.
“Are you well, Pippa?”
“This ship, it does not agree with me,” groaned Pippa.
“Mayhap you should lie down for a while,” said Colette. She had barely finished the sentence before Pippa handed her the baby and ran from the cabin, her hand over her mouth.
“Poor girl,” said Colette to the baby, who only yawned in response. The tot seemed to get tired as the waves increased, and soon was happily asleep in her bassinet.
The rain pelted the top of her cabin so hard, it sounded like she was living inside a drum.
The ship rolled back and forth, up and down, the wooden timbers groaning in complaint.
A short rap at the cabin door brought the entrance of Gavin followed by Captain Dupont, both shaking off the rain. “The captain says we’ve been blessed by a strong tailwind,” said Gavin. “We may expect a wee bit o’ weather this eve.”
“Oh, but I am certain you have sailed through much weather, have you not?” Colette asked the captain, hoping for some reassurance. She was not pleased by the arrival of a storm, but she was not one to readily admit fear.
“Very true,” agreed the hearty captain. “Me and the St. Olga have seen a storm or two in our time, that we have, my lady. We’ll see it through and the storm will no doubt speed our journey.”
“When do ye expect we’ll reach the Scottish shore?” asked Gavin.
“Depends on the wind, my lad, but she’s giving us a good push now. If this continues, I think we may see Scotland within several days’ time. We’ve left our home shores now, and we are sailing in open seas toward England and beyond that Scotland.”
Colette and Gavin exchanged glances. Though there was no way to reach Scotland without sailing up the coast of England, it was not a part of the journey either of them relished. They had every expectation of being able to slip by as an unremarkable merchant ship, but they would breathe easier when that part of the journey was behind them.
“Thank you, Captain Dupont. I hope we shall make good time,” said Colette.
The captain wished them well and left them alone in the cabin.
Alone in the cabin.
“Pippa is feeling poorly again,” said Colette, keeping to the safe topic of nausea. She was acutely aware of Gavin’s presence.
“I am no’ surprised. In truth, my own stomach is protesting a wee bit.” Gavin stood near the door, as if ready to flee should she decide to throw herself at him.
The ship rocked and shuddered. Gone was the gentle sway Colette had found calming. Now the ship seemed to be intent on knocking her off her feet. The floor beneath her suddenly lurched, throwing her into Gavin. He was also thrown backward but braced himself on the side of the wall, holding her with one hand and keeping his own balance with the other.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his arm slipping around her waist like it belonged there.
Before she could answer, the ship rocked violently in the other direction, and they both fell backward onto the bed, with him on top of her. Even with the growing concern for their safety, Colette’s body responded instantly. Tingles shot through her, and despite the fear, she had never felt so incredibly alive.
Gavin was breathing hard. The ship righted itself, but Gavin remained on top of her, his eyes black and smoldering. It was all in his face—his passion, his desire for her. The next instant, it was gone and Gavin pulled himself off and jumped back. “I beg yer pardon, m’lady. Are ye hurt?”
“No, a bit crumpled, but not hurt.” Colette gradually sat up, smoothing her silk gown to hide her disappointment that Gavin’s body was no longer pressed against hers. She was having enough difficulty managing her own desire without the storm conspiring against them. She considered standing, but given how much the ship was moving, she thought it better to remain where she was.
The ship pitched once again, this time hurling down as if they were falling down a huge slide only to reach the bottom and rise again. She was not quite queasy, but she was certain she left her stomach behind somewhere in the pitch and roll. “Is it normal for the ship to lurch in such a manner?” asked Colette. Fear was not the preferred method for reducing her desire for Gavin, but it did help to turn her attention.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. The captain’s a good man and an experienced sailor. I’m certain he’s sailed through many storms larger than this.” Gavin’s words may have been slightly more reassuring had the ship not pitched again at that moment, causing him to stumble forward. He caught himself, his arms braced on the bed on either side of her. He gulped air and stood up again. He was not unaffected either—by the storm or by her.
“Please, sit. This storm is making it difficult not to fall on top of each other, no?” Colette had meant the statement to be a simple fact, but even the thought of him falling on her made her pulse quicken. She knew what was hidden beneath the plaid.
“Aye. Rough seas.” He tried to sit as far from her as possible, but the bunk was anything but spacious.
“I fear you must sleep here tonight,” said Colette in her most reserved manner, as if her words were of little consequence. “Pippa is unwell and there can be no question of hanging you outside the window.”
Gavin gave her a slow smile. “Ye’re too kind. I thank thee for no’ condemning me to a watery grave.”
“I am benevolent this evening, no?” Colette returned in kind. She needed to stay aloof, if such a thing was possible sitting next to Gavin.
“Aye. I am fortunate ye are no’ the person I thought ye were when we first met,” he said lightly.
“What do you mean?” demanded Colette.
Gavin blinked and shifted a bit on the pallet. “I…I confess that when I first met ye, all I saw was yer beauty, which I must add is remarkable. I tell ye plain, ye’re the most bonnie lass that has e’er lived.” He gave her a wide smile.
“But you said you were fortunate I am not what you thought I was. What exactly did you think of me when we first met?” Colette was not to be distracted from this line of questioning.
Gavin bit his lip in a decidedly nervous manner but recovered quickly with a tight smile. “I may have thought ye a wee bit…overly aristocratic.”
“Overly aristocratic! What does that even mean?” Colette would have put her hands on her hips if she did not require both hands to steady herself on the pallet of the swaying ship.
“In truth, it was yer beauty that captivated me most of all, but yer beauty is no’ yer best feature.”
Colette frowned in confusion. Everyone knew her worth was primarily in her appearance. “Are you in jest?”
“Nay, ye’re not only attractive, ye’re quick thinking as well.”
Colette braced herself against the corner of the bunk to keep from falling as the ship rolled. Gavin’s statement made her almost as off balance as the waves. “Of what good is that? Would a man ask a woman her opinion or seek her counsel? I have never heard of such a thing.” Colette dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand.
“Ye think me so very shallow?” challenged Gavin with a gleam in his eye.
“I have met many knights and I can tell you they attend to beauty, not intelligence. I cast no judgment. I merely speak as I find. My mother taught me well to honor my father, most of which was best accomplished without speaking a word.”
Gavin shook his head. “I have spent but little time in court. Forgive me, but wi’out conversation, it sounds verra dull.”
“It was dull, for me at least,” Colette admitted. “But it honored my father for me to be prized in court, so I did what was expected to please him. A daughter can be of little other use to her father.”
The humor drained from Gavin’s expression. “Seems to me yer father relies a great deal on ye and has asked a great sacrifice.”
A lump formed in her throat. She had been asked to give much. Though if she had not met Gavin, she would never have known the extent of what she had forfeit. “I must do my duty to my father and my people, no matter my personal feelings on the matter,” she said in a small voice.
“Yer willingness makes ye one o’ the most admirable people o’ my acquaintance, though I wish things could be different.”
“Me too.” Colette could not look at him. It was a dangerous confession.
A blinding white light blasted through the cracks in the shutters followed by the loudest crash she had ever heard. She flew to her feet, instinctively seeking escape, but had nowhere to run. Gavin stood and reached out his
arms. She rushed into his embrace, soothed against the rising sense of panic. Her body responded to his with a rush of desire, mixed with the sorrow of being prevented from being together and the sheer fear of the storm. It was going to be a long, confusing night.
“’Tis well. Naught to fear. ’Twas only lightning,” he murmured over the roar of thunder.
“I fear the sea, it is trying to kill us,” she said shakily from the safety of his arms. Together they sat on the bed, both holding on to each other. Colette clung to him as if he could somehow make the wild rocking of the ship stop.
“Aye, this ship does seem to be having troubles making its mind up. First up, then down, then one side, then the other. Reminds me o’ my little brother when he’s fighting nature’s call.”
Colette started to laugh but a steep drop of the ship drowned her mirth. She clung tighter to Gavin. “Thank you, Sir Gavin. I would never have made it this far without you.”
“I intend to see ye all the way home, m’lady.”
“I hope you will get the chance,” said Colette in a small voice.
“Surely, I will. And there’s none I’d rather be wi’ in a storm than ye.”
“If I am not too ‘overly aristocratic’ for you,” grumbled Colette, still stinging from his comment. No matter how unrealistic, she could not abide the thought of Gavin not thinking well of her.
“Ye’re no’ going to let me forget this, are ye? Well, wi’ the ship rocking such, I feel I should let ye know a few things while I have the chance.”
Something in his lighthearted acknowledgment of their potential danger tightened her stomach into an aching knot. Yet, he continued to hold her in his arms as the ship pitched and it gave her courage. “Yes?” She encouraged him to continue.
“I said yer greatest feature is no’ yer appearance and I stand by it, but I confess when I first met ye—”
The Highlander's Bride Page 20