Chapter Two
I watched like a hungry bird as Finn and the deckhands tied us to a sturdy wharf in Southampton. The thick ropes pulled taut as The Queen swayed dockside. Gus laid the board down that connected us to the dock and I stepped eagerly onto it, struggling to keep balance with my pregnant belly. My heart raced as I neared the end, staring happily as I stuck my left foot out and touched my toes to the boards.
The ground. Firm, never moving, ground.
All around, tops of chimney stacks and dull, black row of buildings cut the sky. Other boats filled the space along the docks and sailors bustled about. Throwing crates and loading goods. A swarm of smoke-stained merchant tents hugged the area next to the harbour front. I inhaled deeply and moved ahead to let the rest of my crew off. Henry took two strides over to me and stationed himself at my side like a loyal dog. Something about the trip changed him. Changed me, even. We stepped off The Queen two very different people than the ones that stepped on back in Newfoundland. I felt wiser, stronger. But most of all, I felt that our relationship had passed some sort of cosmic test. We were wiser, and we were stronger. Together. I caught his gaze and smiled, taking his hand in mine as we stood around with the crew.
“Aye, I never thought I’d say it, but ‘tis bloody good to step on land,” Finn exclaimed. A resounding sigh of relief made its way through our circle. “So, the plan is?”
Henry stepped in. “We’re to find lodgings and rest up for the night. It’s been a long journey and I reckon we all deserve some clean clothes, a fresh meal, and a good bed.” His lips pursed in thought and Henry leaned further, motioning us all to listen in. “But, bear in mind, we must practice the utmost discretion in all we do. A trip to Wallace is inevitable, but we do not have time for it right now. We’ve got a mission. Figure out if The Burning Ghost or Maria Cobham has been spotted around.”
“Once I know for sure, I’ll–” I glanced around, realizing that we weren’t alone. Something I wasn’t used to. “Um, once I can make a confident… decision, I will.” I made eyes at my crew before me and they all nodded in understanding. I turned to Seamus and John, the two young deckhands. “I’m sorry, boys, but I need you two to stay aboard The Queen while we find a place to stay. We don’t want any nosey visitors poking around when we have so much to protect. I’ll send for you and the trunks as soon as I can.”
“I’ll stay behind with them,” Gus offered gallantly.
I smiled proudly at my stoic quartermaster. “Even better.” I then turned to the rest of my tired and weary crew. “Now, let’s find a tavern, shall we?”
Just past the merchant tents and one dirt road up from the waterfront, we spotted a row of Victorian buildings, painted dark to match the blooms of fog and smoke. Finally, we spotted a quaint tavern that hugged the end of one long row of shop fronts. I stifled a laugh at the name carved into the wooden sign which hung outside.
The Kraken’s Den.
Henry caught my gaze and peered up at the swinging sign. He gave a chuckle of his own and then squeezed my hand. “Suitable, don’t you think so?”
“I’d say it’s the perfect place for a bunch of pirates to rest their heads for a few nights,” I told him and admired the gorgeous workmanship of carved tentacles that covered the thick wooden door.
I waited as Henry heaved it open and the four of us filed in behind him; me, Finn, Lottie, and Charlie. The large inn boasted neat wooden floors that matched its walls and the exposed beams above. The air smelled of warm food and Christmastime. And, with a closer look around, I realized it must have been close to the holiday; green garland of pine boughs hung from surfaces with a red ribbon.
We came to a halt in the large entryway as a hoard of gawking guests, dispersed throughout the common areas, stared at us. I realized then just how grungy we must have looked. Months at sea. No way to properly wash our clothes, or ourselves. Even Henry’s all-black leather ensemble could have used a good scrub. His long blonde hair slick with grease and pulled back in a haphazard knot. The rest of us were no better; soiled cottons, dirt smeared faces. Me, too pregnant to hide. I flushed red in embarrassment and turned my gaze to the floor as Henry made his way to the front desk.
“Do you have any rooms available?” he asked the person standing there, a tall older man with a balding head and a goofy smile. “At least five or six?”
The man’s words seemed to dry up in his throat as he stared incredulously at the band of misfit pirates standing in his tavern. “I-I, um, sir, I don’t–”
Henry moaned impatiently and stuffed a hand in his jacket pocket, pulled out a small satchel of gold coins and plunked it down on the hard, wooden desk between them. “Let me ask you again. Do you have half a dozen rooms available, good sir?”
The startled panic washed from the inn keeper’s face and he happily accepted the money. “Of course!” He ducked below the desk and popped back up with a handful of keys. “I have more than enough room to accommodate you. Will there be more joining your party?”
“Yes,” Henry replied. “Three more. Two of which can share a room, if need be. We don’t want to impose.”
The man waved at the air. “Nonsense. The Kraken’s Den can provide whatever you need, Mister…” He raised his eyebrows in wait.
Henry scooped the keys up and turned them over in his hands, eyeballing the room numbers carved into each one. “You may call me Mr. White, if you please.”
The sound of Henry’s true name coming over his lips surprised me. I’d never heard him say it like that before, like he owned it. But then I realized, as he turned back to us and my eyes caught his telling gaze, that he’d given that name because it was one that nobody would know.
We each took our keys and Finn adjusted his thick leather belt after pocketing his. “Aye, I’ll head back to the ship, let the boys know where we be. Help ‘em with the trunks.”
Lottie grabbed his arm before he left. “Tell Gus I’m in room seven, would you?”
Finn grinned wildly and gave her a mocking waggle of his red brow. “Oooh!”
Lottie released his arm but gave it a hard smack before turning and heading for the large staircase behind us. But I caught her hiding a smirk as she passed me by and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Finn be careful heading back,” I told him.
Henry piped in, “There should be some wagons outside for the trunks, be sure to grab one.”
“Aye, Captain,” he replied, seemingly to both of us, and was off.
I turned to Henry and stuck my arm through the loop he provided with his. My body relaxed as a stale breath of air heaved from my chest and I laid my head against his firm shoulder. “Can we go to bed now?”
He chortled, deep and low under his breath. “I’d kill the man who stood in my way.”
We pulled ourselves up the creaky wooden staircase, stained dark just like every other wooden surface in the tavern. The Floors, the wainscoting, and the tray ceiling were all stained an ashy ebony and I soaked it all in, the old-timey beauty of the place. Henry and I came to a stop outside door number four and I waited as he inserted the key into the hole and turned the knob.
The dark wood followed us into the room, but I admired how they painted the center squares on the wainscoting a robin’s egg blue. A color they attempted to match in the bedding and scalloped canopy above. Gold finished hardware on the furniture sparkled in the sunlight that shone in through the tall, narrow window. A sweet little bench nestled into its sill.
It was definitely a step up from the taverns back in Newfoundland. I wondered then, if this was the way our lives would be now. The life of the rich. As nice as it was, I still couldn’t see myself living it. I much preferred the simpler life. Or that of a pirate. A stinkin’ rich land dweller held no appeal for me and, as I watched Henry fit right in with his startling good looks and purposeful gait, I wondered what he truly wanted. What he saw in our future.
He closed the door behind us, and I heard the lock click. “Are you tired?” he asked. “Do
you wish to sleep first and wash later?”
I didn’t even look back at him. My pregnant, bone-weary body zombie-walked to the giant bed and I let myself fall to it. I swear, I must have fallen asleep before the fresh linens touched my skin because that’s the last I remember. My mind drifted into an empty sleep, a dark void of nothingness where I happily stayed for Lord knows how long. It wasn’t until the faint tangents of a lucid dream began to fill my vision, slowly, like milk mixing with water, that my brain restarted.
Being aware inside your own dreams is an odd sensation. One that gives a slight God complex because, not only are you tuned in to everything going on, you’re also slightly in control of the outcome. I stood in front of a quaint saltbox house by the sea. The wooden siding painted white, bits of it chipping away from the fists of the sea. Someone was out back, hanging clean sheets on a low-hung clothesline. The bottom of the sheets nearly touched the fresh grass below. The person was a woman, that much I could see from the long black hair that blew in the wind. She turned to me and I saw her face, a beautiful heart-shaped thing with two, big brown eyes.
Mom.
She gave smile and so did I. But hers begins to fade the closer I get. My stomach dropped and tugged at my heart, but my legs wouldn’t stop. I still ran to her but she backed away, her face now angry.
“Mom!” I called.
But she was gone.
And then so was I.
When I awoke sometime later, the sun had moved, dimming the light of the room, but had yet to set. So, I knew only a few hours had gone by. I sat up in bed and rubbed my still-tired eyes before I realized I was alone. Pulling back the heavy blankets, I whipped myself out of bed and over to the door, but it opened before my hand touched the knob.
“Oh, you’re finally awake,” Henry exclaimed as he entered, carrying a large pot of steaming water over to a metal bathtub and poured it in. “I thought we could get a bath before heading down for a meal.”
I yawned and then smiled as I made my way over to him. “That sounds heavenly.” My lips touched his in a quick hello kiss. “Did you get any sleep?”
“A little. I nodded off for a short while, after listening to you snore.” I balked and slapped his arm. The corner of his mouth quirked. “I shall sleep later, tonight, when we retire to the room,” Henry replied. “I wanted to get everything ready,” he gestured to the tub, “and I waited for the men to return from the ship. Ensured they got back and had no trouble at the front desk.”
I chewed at my bottom lip. “Oh, yes,” I said when I realized. “They wouldn’t have known you used your real name.”
Henry’s head shook gently back and forth. “No, they wouldn’t.” He began to remove his clothes, bit by bit. A heap of black leather strung over a chair and I stared at his beautiful body. The way the lithe muscles moved with the twisting of his limbs. The flex of the pale skin of his chest as he slipped his soiled white blouse over his head. My eyes, as they always did, flitted to the faded pink scars that covered his body like celestial signs, and I connected the dots with my mind. Tried not to envision the brutality behind each one. But my pirate king wore them like badges of honor. Never hiding them from me. Never letting the scars, both on the surface and beneath, bleed into our lives.
Not anymore.
My hands, as if with a mind of their own, went to him. Smoothing the lines of Henry’s chest and gently rubbing the hard muscles of his shoulders. And, like a mirror, his hands reached for me and I felt the rough skin of his long fingers slip under the collar of my shirt, pulling it down as he pressed his lips to the exposed skin.
I threw my head back and let Henry’s mouth trail along my shoulder, neck, and then gently caress my jawline. I would never grow tired of that feeling. The sensation of his soft, warm lips touching me. I reached behind and untied the knot that held his hair back and the blonde waves fell like a curtain to his shoulders. Our yearning eyes met, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I loved him so much. Almost too much at times. At times like this, when the emotion overwhelmed me, and I could swear my heart would explode if not contained in its cage. With a cheeky grin, Henry tugged at the strings that held my heavy cotton skirt in place and I let it drop to my feet.
“Your bath awaits, my queen,” he said coyly and took my hand as he stepped toward the steaming tub.
I laughed. “A bath. A real bath that I can sit in a soak. God, it’s been ages.” Slowly, I followed Henry into the metal basin, dipping my foot in first but then yanking it out when I felt the water. “It’s scorching hot!”
The scalding water didn’t seem to bother Henry as I watched him ease himself down, creating a cradle with his body and motioning me to get in. “It’s really not. Only for the first moment. Come,” he told me and held his hand out, “get in. The water is lovely.”
Trustingly, I took his hand and let him help me into the tub. It was still hot, but as I lowered my body down onto his, my bare back nestled to his chest, I relished in the heat as it soaked into my dirty skin. I leaned back, letting my head rest against the man beneath me.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Henry whispered in my ear, his tickling breath sending goosebumps scouring down my body and hardening my nipples.
I could only moan in response. The water softened my tired muscles and the steam seeped into my pores, opening them up and washing them clean. We stayed like that, soaking in the warm bath and the silence our room offered. The crackling of our fireplace the only sound to be heard. Henry’s able hands sensually washed my body, paying close attention to all the neglected areas and lathered me in silky soap. When he finished, he set the soap to the side and began smoothing the skin of my stomach admiringly.
“He’s getting big,” he spoke softly.
I craned my neck and shifted slightly so our eyes could meet. “He? What makes you so sure it’s a boy?”
A dreamy smile spread across Henry’s scruffy face and he planted a gentle kiss on my mouth. “I’m not. Just hopeful thinking.”
This was new. Henry had never expressed a preference for the baby before. Suddenly, my mind wandered to thoughts of a little boy. A full head of blonde curls bouncing as I chased him through the grass. “A boy,” I said, matching his dreamy tone.
Henry continued to rub my belly. “Honestly, I don’t much care what we get. I consider myself lucky enough to have the chance to be a father.”
My hand slid overtop of his and we cooed over the baby inside together. “Well, if it is a boy, we can just try again until we get a girl.”
“My,” he replied with a smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, Miss Cobham, I’d say you were trying to get me into bed.”
I tipped my chin up and brushed my lips against his. “Bed, bath. Does it matter which one?”
“No,” Henry told me as his hand slowly crept down my leg and then found its way back up where it nestled between my thighs. “Nothing matters as long as I’m with you.”
***
The water had become tepid before Henry and I pulled ourselves out of the tub. It felt good to be clean again, truly fresh and clean over every part of my body. With a warm towel wrapped around and tucked underneath my arms, I strolled over to the trunk on the bed and opened it to fetch something to wear. Each piece of clothing I held up to my nose and gave a disgruntled moan at the damp, musty smell of it all.
“I’ll send our clothes out to be properly washed,” Henry told me when he noticed the growing pile of discarded choices building up.
I held up a somewhat clean red, cotton skirt. It would have to do. After slipping on a shift and covering it with a white blouse, I secured the waistline of the skirt up over my protruding stomach. “God, I’m getting huge,” I noted as I stole a glance in the floor-length mirror next to the bed.
Henry’s hands quickly found me and slid around my torso from behind, his mouth nuzzling into my neck. “You look radiant.” I tried to stifle the groan that pooled in my throat before he turned me around and planted a tender kiss on my lips, his th
umb brushing the flushed skin of my cheek. “You’ve never been more beautiful, Dianna.”
“You have to say that,” I replied like a child.
Henry laughed and pulled away but gripped his fingers with mine and headed toward the door. “I don’t have to say anything,” he noted and then pulled my hand to his lips before turning the knob, “but I do have to feed you. Shall we head down for supper?”
“It’s kind of late,” I replied. “Do you think we missed it?”
He led me down the hall and toward the mouth of the staircase. “No, it's not like back home in Newfoundland. This is a bustling tavern that caters to the traffic of the port. We should be able to acquire a meal at any time.”
Together, we descended the stairs and I was surprised to find that he was right. Suppertime had obviously passed; the sun was long gone and the dining area had been mostly cleared out. But a few guests were left standing about. Mingling at the bar and sitting around the massive stone fireplace that anchored the common area. My eyes scanned the half-empty tavern and I smiled when I realized the faces around the fire were familiar. Finn, Gus, and Lottie. Henry noticed them, too, and we strolled over together.
“I was about to come and check on ye two,” Finn said with a hearty chuckle. “Make sure ye were still alive.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “I suppose I was more tired than I thought.”
“We all were,” Lottie chimed in as she leaned forward and set her empty plate down on the large coffee table that occupied the space between them. “I was out for a couple of hours at least. I could have slept right through ‘till tomorrow if this one here didn’t force me to get up.” She gave Gus a playful smirk from across the center.
“Yes, well,” he replied and awkwardly cleared his throat, “It was for good reason.”
I saw in his eager eyes that he had news and I took a pulled one of the oversized wingback chairs over to join in the circle. Henry did the same and sidled up next to me.
The Siren's Call Page 2