Maria could tell, watching Isabel stifle a wry smile, that, in spite of their gruff talk, the commander had indeed won her aunt’s affections.
“My apologies, m’lord,” the young woman responded. “It has, I’m certain, presented some difficulties for you. But beneath her ruined exterior...”
“Who is ‘ruined’?” Isabel exploded.
“...that beneath that damaged façade, there beats a very fine heart!”
“Well, that I have yet to see,” John returned giving Isabel an appraising look. “But to think that musket ball to her shoulder almost took away the only choice part!”
“It’s true. It would have been a dreadful shame,” Maria whispered back as she took a serving of fruit.
“I think I’ve heard just about enough out of you two.” Isabel picked up a long yellow fruit from a proffered tray. “How is it that a barge like this one has Jerusalem apples at this time of year?”
John leaned toward Maria. “Aye. To think, we might have been sharing this dinner alone. Only the two of us. Such a pity!”
Maria gazed across the table into his deep blue eyes. The light of the candles reflected in them, giving his face a hint of the rogue within. Just the two of them, she thought. He didn’t even know how far his words went to produce chaos inside of her.
Isabel looked from one to the other, each enthralled by the other’s charms. “That’s enough entertainment at my expense. Find a different subject of discussion.”
As the dinner progressed, Maria toyed with the food on her plate and occasionally glanced up. John was continuously watching her–that she knew–and her blush deepened each time their eyes met. Isabel was clearly working hard to steer the handsome Highlander into more mundane discussions on a variety of matters, and Maria listened attentively, occasionally contributing. Everything he said interested her, but the young woman was far more eager to exchange silent looks that moved across her skin like caresses. Though John Macpherson mainly directed his words to Isabel, the commander continued stretch his long legs beneath the table, pressing his knees–unintentionally, of course–against her legs.
Though there was a dreamlike quality to the way Maria felt, she knew that this was no dream. This man wanted to spend time with her. She knew that he had chosen to make her the center of his attention. She knew that, if she chose to allow it, she could soon be feeling his strong hands holding her body, pulling her close to him, she could soon be feeling his full and sensual lips devouring hers.
“Don’t you agree Maria?” Isabel’s voice jarred Maria out of her reverie.
“What did you say, Isabel?”
“What I said was, in all my travel across these waters, I have never seen more comfort and amenity in a single ship than I have seen on the Great Michael. I’d be quite tempted to say that Scottish seamen are, by far, the most spoiled sailors on the German Sea. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Maria looked at the naval commander’s expression. He gazed at her, as well, awaiting her answer. “As you have said often enough before, Isabel, I am no sailor. And I have not spent as much time as you aboard such a variety of ships to know what comforts their sailors do or don’t enjoy.”
“Well, child, that was certainly a diplomatic answer.” Isabel turned toward John. “She doesn’t get that quality from my side of the family, let me tell you.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed,” John responded, never taking his eyes from the younger woman.
“It’s just that I am certain Sir John is far better qualified to inform us whether the Great Michael’s comforts are standard for Scottish ships–or for any others, for that matter.” Maria hoped he would not pursue the Isabel’s reference to family with any further questions. She was enjoying herself so much, and she didn’t want it ruined by conversation on that particular topic.
“Well, Sir John?” Isabel asked. “Would you care to enlighten us?”
John looked from one woman to another. As curious as he was about Maria’s family, he sensed from the quick warning glance she gave her aunt that Maria was still quite hesitant to discuss her family. Perhaps some other time, he thought.
Indeed, there was no danger in revealing the truth of his commission to these two women. After all, half of the Europe knew of the upcoming union, and there was no secret about the Great Michael’s charge.
“This warship has been specially fitted out for this voyage, Maria. The Great Michael and the three vessels accompanying us are indeed the grandest ships in the Scottish Navy, and this ship is the largest and the finest in the world. But a warship’s value is all a matter of the size of her sails, the speed she can travel, and the number of guns that she carries. As far as the comfort and luxury which you see on this journey, this is hardly the way my men and I generally travel.”
“I don’t know how much of this you may have already heard,” John continued, turning his attention to Isabel. “But since you refuse to tell me if you have any friends or connections in Antwerp, it’s possible that you don’t know. At any rate, these ‘amenities’ as you so well describe them, have been brought aboard this ship to welcome and comfort the chattel that we’ll be conveying from Antwerp back to Scotland.”
“Chattel!” Isabel exclaimed in amazement.
“Aye. Is there a better way to describe royalty?” John asked innocently as he turned to Maria.
She hid her hands in the folds of her skirt and tried to keep an even expression.
“Royalty?” Isabel asked, trying to draw the Highlander’s attention away from Maria. The young woman’s pallid expression would surely give them away. “You are to provide passage for a member of the royal family?”
“Aye,” John answered. “Mary, Queen of Hungary. She is to wed my king, James of Scotland. Didn’t you hear of the match?”
Isabel was quick to answer. “I am afraid we don’t have much to do with the business of royal courtship. I think I can speak for both of us when I say that the world of politics is not one we care to move in.”
“Aye, there’s wisdom in that,” John replied. He paused as a thought occurred to him. “But do you know her...or know of her?”
“Of a queen?” Isabel snorted, rolling her eyes. “My boy, you do us great honor to think we travel in such noble circles!”
“What I meant was–even though you haven’t said as much–your accents are Spanish.” He was directing his comments to Isabel. “And from what I know, the Queen of Hungary is a Spaniard, as well.”
“España is a large place, Sir J...” Maria began.
“You’d better check your facts before you greet her, commander,” Isabel interjected hotly. “Her blood may be royal, but she is far from being a pure Spaniard.”
“Really?” John asked, feigning ignorance.
“That is correct,” Isabel continued. “She is the daughter to Philip the Handsome, a Burgundian, and the granddaughter to Maximilian I of the Habsburgs, Regent of Flanders, Holland, Zeeland, Hianault, and Artois. Now, her mother is Juana of Castile, and her grandfather was Ferdinand of Aragon, so it’s true, she has some Spanish blood. But the girl wasn’t even born in Castile. She was sent there as a child to be raised until her first marriage contract could be consum...”
Isabel came to a sudden stop. One glance at Maria told her that the young woman was about to pass out.
“Aye,” John nodded reassuringly. “It sounds as if I was correct to assume that you know her.”
“Know of her,” Isabel cut him short. “Only of her, my dear.”
She pushed her plate away from her and pretended to stifle a yawn. Perhaps she might have her lips sown shut.
“And now I am tired,” Isabel continued. “And my shoulder is tormenting me dreadfully. So before you push me into an early grave with your endless chatter, you might consider being a gentleman and escorting me to my bed. Maria will see you and your men out.”
“But the night is young,” John protested, helping Isabel to her feet.
“And I am old,” Isabel answered, gesturing
for Maria to stay beside her.
Maria took her aunt’s arm, and glanced briefly at the Highlander. His eyes were smiling as they met hers.
“Hardly,” he replied meaningfully, turning his attention back to the aunt. The men were scurrying about, clearing away the remains of the dinner, and he caught the eye of the nearest man. “Go and fetch the serving lass.”
“What do you need with her?” Isabel queried sharply.
“I don’t need her,” he replied. “You do. I am taking Maria on deck for a walk.”
“Are you asking permission?” Isabel asked as she turned and settled onto the edge of the high bed.
John looked directly into Maria’s eyes. “Aye, I’m asking, Isabel. But I’m asking her, not you.”
Maria’s breath caught in her chest. His gaze never wavered until she at last nodded her acceptance. When he smiled and looked away, a rush of excitement washed over her.
The serving girl entered the cabin behind them and quickly crossed to the bed to help the older woman retire.
John bowed politely to Isabel. “Well, I’d like to thank you, Isabel.”
“Well, don’t think we want you in here every evening.” The older woman smiled and nodded after the retreating Maria. The Highlander turned to watch her, as well
Isabel was struck by the sureness in Maria’s stride. The older woman grunted to herself, thinking to herself that it was about time.
Chapter 11
The mist was gone.
The fresh sea breeze lifted Maria’s cloak behind her as she stepped out onto the deck. Her hair whipped across her face, momentarily blocking her vision. Reaching up and twisting her black mane into a thick rope, she tucked it inside her cloak and pulled the hood up. The air was clean and cool, and the night black. It was good to be on deck.
Maria had expected resistance by Isabel. But there had been none. It surprised the young woman that there had been no hint of protectiveness on the part of her aunt, no second guessing at all. Maria’s decision to go had been sufficient. No questioning look, no knowing glance that spoke volumes about motives or outcomes. Maria wondered if her aunt had any idea how much that meant to her.
From what she could see in the darkness there were just a few men at their watch, posted here and there. Maria watched the commander’s back as he moved toward one of them–the sailor standing by the solitary lamp that hung from the mainmast She didn’t need to hear what he had to say to the man. She knew. All night they had wanted to be alone. During dinner, she had hardly thought of anything other than how it would be the next time they could be by themselves. She had even wondered if he would begin to court her all over again. If the appropriate behavior might involve some ritual she knew nothing about. Perhaps there was something that need to be said before he could take her once again in his arms, before he could begin to rekindle the passion they’d begun. That would be gentlemanly, she supposed. But then again, she thought with a sigh, perhaps John Macpherson would be more of a rogue.
Looking up, Maria gazed at the moonless sky, stars as bright as diamonds spread across the black satin sky. Tearing her eyes away from their sparkling welcome, she climbed the few steep steps to the high stern deck and moved across the dark deck to the railing. Beside her, the dory that she had rowed lay overturned and secured along the rail. As she reached out in the darkness to touch the rough wood of the longboat’s keel, her knee bumped against a cask that had been lashed to the rail.
Beneath her the sea, jet black and powerful, rolled along the ship’s hull. As she scanned the distance, the line between water and sky seemed nearly indistinguishable–only the twinkling stars marked the boundary. And far off, beyond the ebony void that surrounded the Great Michael, Maria could see the lamps of three other ships.
And then she felt him behind her, the warmth of his body, the strength of his presence.
His hands encircled her around the waist and pulled her tightly against him. She let her head fall back against his chest as he took hold of her hands and wrapped them around her. She loved the feel of him holding her, the power, the gentleness. He hadn’t said a word to her since they’d left the cabin, but she knew that they both had been waiting for this moment. A moment simply to embrace and to take pleasure from the touch. They could remain at sea forever, so far as Maria was concerned. And tonight there could be no fighting the feelings within her, no uncertainty, no coyness.
“The mists have cleared!” she said quietly.
His hands tightened their hold. “Aye, lass. We’ll be setting sail at first light.”
“For Antwerp,” she whispered.
“Maria, I have...”
“Please, John. Not now.” She turned in his arms. He didn’t release his hold on her. With her hands pressed to his chest, she found herself gathered tightly in his embrace. Looking up into his eyes, she thought she could see beyond the stars. “How long will it take...before we arrive?”
“Depending on the wind, perhaps two, three days.” His arms pulled her closer to his chest as he felt a shudder wrack her frame.
“So soon,” she whispered quietly, her chin resting against his broad chest. The wool of the tartan brushed softly against her high cheekbone. She could feel his hands moving across her back, warming her to her very core, bringing her ever closer, making her a part of him. She closed her eyes and felt his lips press firmly against her forehead. Caressing her.
With a tinge of sadness, Maria turned her face, and she could hear his great heart beating. Why was it that even Nature had united with the forces against her? So unkind, she thought, the power of fate! For the first time in her life, she had been on the edge of exciting new discovery, of a new horizon–a new world–that beckoned with a promise of feelings as new to her and as unknown as the forces holding the stars in the sky. And she was willing to take the step, to go beyond the ledge, and to fall if that was what lay beyond. Yes, with a certainty that she felt to her very core, she knew she could risk it–for she could feel his arms around her. Yes, she was more that willing to risk everything. Quite willing to risk losing the only life she had ever known, the one in which she had no voice, the one that held the future that she seemed destined to live. Yes, she was more than willing to leap from that ledge in the hope of finding the force that would buoy her, that would fix her in the new and brilliant firmament that she could see beckoning to her.
And mocking her.
For the mists had lifted. She rubbed her cheek softly against his chest, swallowing the sorrow she felt for the little time they had left between them.
“It doesn’t need to end in Antwerp.” He leaned down, his hand pushing the cloak back off her head. He softly kissed her black tresses. “You can stay with me, lass, while I take my new queen back to King James. The journey back should be fairly quick. I’ll take you to Denmark. I could meet with your family...”
Maria reached up and placed her fingers against his lips. She didn’t want to lie. No more. They had only these few, short and precious days at sea. She would gather a lifetime of dreams from these few days. Raising herself on her tiptoes, she followed the path of her fingers with her lips. She kissed him softly and then let her hands encircle his neck, her mouth tasting his full and sensuous lips.
“Maria, I want to spend more time with you. To get to know you...”
Her mouth silenced him once again. She teased him, running her tongue across his flesh. But he held back. Waiting. She was not about to give up. Maria let her lips move to his neck and kiss their way to his ear. She bit at his earlobe. He growled in response. Smiling and feeling bolder, she kissed a path back to his lips. The kisses were gentle yet persistent, simple yet seductive. She let her tongue play across their fullness again, and this time they opened for her. Hesitantly, her tongue delved in and began its voyage of discovery.
John leaned back against the railing, fighting to retain the degree of control that her touch threatened to destroy. She was driving him mad with desire, but he knew he couldn’t allow himself to go
where she was leading him. But he couldn’t bring himself to withdraw, either. Something inside told him that she needed to take control of this moment. That here in the darkness, she could find confidence to explore her feelings for him. Here, under a black and star studded sky, she could discover the fiery passion he knew she had.
John reached deep inside of himself, though, to remind himself that this moment must have its limits.
Maria let her fingers work themselves inside his shirt. She touched the crisp hair covering his chest, all the while her mouth seeking more.
John tried to think of sea battles that he’d fought, of blood, of rough seas and burning ships. Anything but the softness and beauty of the woman in his arms. His muscles were tight as a stone, and his manhood–aroused and throbbing–ached with the primal need of the male.
His eyes were cloudy and his expression grim when Maria pulled back, peering in the near blackness at his face. His hesitation in taking charge as he had done before puzzled her, and she shifted her gaze uncomfortably. “Has your interest in me disappeared with the mist, John?”
The Highlander filled his great chest with air and let it out before pulling her hips tightly against his hardened arousal.
She paused for a moment as the sensation registered. Well, there was an interest. Quite a large interest for that matter. Smiling at her own inexperience, she pressed with a shy but irresistible curiosity against him.
“Then why...” She stopped, unable to bring herself to say the words.
He leaned down and kissed the bridge of her nose, then placed another kiss on her cheek. His lips were now only a breath away from hers. His fingers cradled her chin. “Because I gave my word to your aunt that I will not take you to my bed on board this ship.”
His voice was strained, and she thought he sounded as if he were in pain. Maria bit her lips to stifle her laugh. My God, she hadn’t even thought about what would follow. But as he spoke the words, she knew that their love play would have to end up in a bed. A bed. She tried to remember. Her marriage bed had not been such a memorable place for her during those four years of marriage. But then again, kissing her husband had not been particularly notable, either.
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