by Merry Farmer
Oliver, not wanting to force his hand, decided that it was now time to back off and let her stew on the idea. “There isn’t a man alive that can look at you and think you’re a desperate spinster. That I can promise you. Now, we don’t need to make a decision today. Why don’t I ask my man to prepare us some food?”
Juliana rubbed her stomach, “It does seem ages ago since I have eaten.”
“Perfect, it will be no trouble at all,” he replied.
Opening the cabin door, Oliver called on his servant Porter to go and prepare them food. He also asked that a hammock be rustled up somewhere. Oliver wouldn’t force Juliana to allow him in her bed. But he had no issues forcing his way into her cabin.
Chapter 7
As Juliana used the heel of her bread to mop up the last of the gravy, she almost wished that she had an additional plate full. The meal had been excellent. Oliver has said that things like flour and vegetables would be the first to run out. Meats were cured and dried, but there would come a time when fish would be their primary food source.
Juliana had heard stories about the lack of fresh fruits and vegetables on-board a ship. There were stories about the mice and vermin that plagued the ships as well. That was the last thing that Juliana wanted to deal with.
However, so far, things weren’t so very bad. The only complaint she had was how small everything was. The Captain’s chambers were well appointed, but everything was bolted down and the entire cabin could have fit inside her dressing room at home.
Oliver was speaking to his man when Juliana leaned in just to watch his expressions. She was embarrassed enough to try and not hang on his every word. It was only that he was so very appealing. If he weren’t so blasted handsome, perhaps she could think properly.
And then there was that proposal.
Juliana was still reeling from the audacity of the man. It had been bad enough that the man felt like he had to propose to her. She knew he didn’t want to. It shamed her to think that the girl she was several years ago would have leapt at the chance, even knowing that he didn’t care for her as a husband cares for a wife. A memory came flashing through her mind. They had been at the wedding of Lady Henrietta and Lord Warner. Everyone was laughing and talking as they were waiting for the wedding coach to depart.
At the last moment, Hetty had tossed the bouquet out the window at the crowd. Juliana hadn’t seen it coming. One moment she was talking to her mother the next moment she was choking on flowers and feeling a warm gushing from her nose.
The moment Juliana saw blood, she had become dizzy. Before she could make a bigger fool of herself and render herself unconscious in the dirt, a strong arm had come around her shoulders and under her knees. She was scooped into someone’s arms and swept back inside of the church until her mother could tend to her.
When she looked up and saw that Oliver had been the one to save her, Juliana had found herself tumbling headlong into puppy love. The only problem was the Oliver didn’t want anything to do with her or her loving gestures.
Juliana’s face felt like it was on fire. She had completely humiliated herself in front of this man. An image of her standing on the edge of the ballroom floor waving her handkerchief at him caused Juliana to want to find a giant hole and jump inside.
Oliver likely thought that she was behind Phillip’s involvement in making sure they were both on this boat. The feeling was lowering.
“Are you alright?”
Juliana glanced up to see that Oliver was staring down at her with a concerned look on his face. It was almost as if he really cared about her.
She nodded her head and made up an excuse. “I am just tired.”
The rest of her sentence was cut off when two sailors came in and began to hang something that looked a bit like a banana.
“What is that?” she asked.
“A hammock,” Oliver answered. “One sleeps in it aboard ship.”
“I am not sleeping in that,” Juliana replied. Then it dawned on her. “You’re not sleeping there. Tell me that isn’t your plan.”
Oliver gave her an innocent look. “If you would rather, I share the bed with you.”
Juliana blinked. Had she heard him wrong? Heat pooled low in her belly as she pictured laying with Oliver on that small bunk. She couldn’t see how they could fit side by side. Tilting her head to the side, she imagined them pressed together.
“No! That will be quite alright. You are welcome to sleep in the hammock, or another cabin. That’s what sounds best to me, but obviously you aren’t asking my opinion.”
Aware that she was babbling, Juliana shut her mouth and walked over to her trunk. Flipping up the lid she gathered her needle point and then returned to the single chair, next to the small table.
The room had one wall that was paneling on the bottom half and three rows of bookshelves on the top. Juliana had noticed when she arrived that the shelves had a lip on them, presumably to keep the books inside if a storm kicked up. In an effort to keep her mind off the tall, handsome Duke who had invaded her space. Juliana began to look at the titles.
At first it seemed that most of the books were the Captain’s Logs. Moving up a row, she saw that there was a full set of Shakespeare’s works along with some other classics. The top row was filled with navigation books, sea wayfaring manuals, and then a few non-descriptive ones in the top corner.
With a sigh, Juliana realized that this was likely what she would be doing day in and day out for the next few months. It didn’t help that she happened to look over at that particular moment to see Oliver wink at her.
She hated the blush that stained her cheeks almost as much as the fire that lit inside her soul.
She wouldn’t fall for him again. No, she couldn’t do that, no matter what deals her brother… A strange sense of horror and panic gripped her. For a brief moment she wondered if Randall hadn’t paid the man to marry her. It wasn’t like her brother wasn’t always lamenting that Juliana wasn’t married.
Dear merciful heavens, Juliana prayed, please don’t let that be the case. But how was she to know for sure? As much as she loved Randall, he was still an unpredictable man—a beast of the worst kind.
The last thing Juliana every wanted to be a charity case. The humiliation of it nearly had her catching her breath.
“I think that will be all, men,” Oliver spoke from behind her. “I shall not need assistance for the rest of the night.”
As the men filed out, so did Juliana’s dreams of the Duke leaving the room for the night. Hurriedly she turned and asked, “Will you need to be getting ready then? I will just step outside.
Flying to her feet, Juliana made to press past Oliver. But he readily caught her by the arms. Instead of facing the door, she was turned to face a snowy white cravat underneath an embroidered waistcoat, a fine lawn shirt, starched breeches and some of the shiniest boots imaginable.
“You’re staring,” he said softly.
From their close proximity, Juliana could feel the vibrations of his voice. All she had to do was lean in and their bodies would touch. Not that Juliana could ever do something so forward. Because despite the fact that she was attracted to the man. Juliana was first and foremost a lady.
The boat tipped of its own accord, pushing her up against his hard marble-like chest. They both drew in a harsh breath as Juliana placed her hands on his shoulders. She knew that she should push away. But for some reason her sense of reality and sensibility had been left on the mainland with her maid Connie.
When the Duke lowered her head to kiss her, Juliana tilted her face back to receive his kiss.
Chapter 8
Oliver could hardly believe his good fortune. Here he was not even a day out at sea and Juliana was already in his arms. The feel of her lips under his was unlike anything he had ever known before.
He could scarcely remember a time when his body had been so completely attuned to another individual. The way she innocently clung to his shoulders made him feel powerful and strong. Her s
weet kiss made him feel like a conqueror. However, it was the way she eagerly leaned into him that nearly brought Oliver to his knees.
It was clear that Juliana wasn’t schooled in the arts of lovemaking, and yet her tender overtures were far better than any courtesan because he knew they came from the truest parts of her heart. Juliana wasn’t a woman who did anything she didn’t wish to.
Oliver was about to gently pull back when Juliana sighed and melted against him. In doing so she parted her lips, and suddenly their tender embrace took on new meaning. Rather than just lean against him, Oliver felt her flatten her small breasts against his chest.
He inwardly cursed current fashion and anything that came between her hot body and his own. He licked the seam of her lips and groaned when Juliana eagerly opened her mouth wider for him. Once inside, it was all Oliver could do not to take her to the berth and rut like a wild beast.
He knew his crass thoughts belayed the true gentleman that he had worked so hard to be. But the sounds she made as he kissed her caused his mind to conjure up what it would be like to taste her nipples, would they be large or small, pink or peach? He didn’t care. He only wanted to taste them.
Things were spiraling out of control, with every sweep of his tongue they slipped further into the maelstrom of their passion. Surely, he was dreaming, never had he even hoped to imagine that her response to him would be anything like this. And then it happened, she slipped her fingers into his hair and tentatively kissed him back.
Oliver wasn’t quite sure when he had decided to slide his hands down and cup her derriere, but once he got his hands on her tender bottom, he was more than thrilled with the idea. Squeezing her firmly, he growled in satisfaction when she moaned into their kiss.
This union wasn’t just one-sided. Juliana was just as caught up as he was. Her hands moved from his hair to slip inside of his coat. Suddenly he wanted it off, needed to off. Not wanting to break the kiss, he began to struggle with its removal.
Tugging one way and then the other, it seemed that he was getting himself more tangled. Panic began to claw at him when he realized that she was pulling away. He had to physically force himself not to cry out when their lips broke apart.
She stood there looking eminently lovely, with wide eyes and kiss swollen lips. Her cheeks were flushed with color and her breathing was rapid. But what he adored most of all was the humor in her eyes.
Oliver wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it occurred to him that he was partially worried that she would be upset with him or about their kiss. Indeed, it seemed quite the opposite.
Her eyes danced with mirth as she asked, “What are you doing?”
Oliver had one arm sticking out behind him and the other he was still holding the lapel to his jacket. Rather than be embarrassed, he gave her a cheeky grin. “I was trying to get it off. But apparently my tailors take the notion of fitting my jackets like a glove far too seriously.”
Her lips twitched and she tried to cover them. Her shy smile was far and wide the loveliest thing he could ever remember seeing. If it took him making a fool of himself to bring out this side of her, Oliver would be more than happy to oblige.
“Do you need me to call your man?” she asked kindly.
Oliver glanced down to see his cock-stand saluting the fair Juliana through his breeches. The last thing he wanted was for his man to go spreading that little tidbit about. Quickly, Oliver shook his head. “No, thank you. I am certain I can get it off.”
It was clear by her expression that she didn’t believe his words any more than he did. But she seemed more than willing to let him continue to try.
“By all means,” she said with a grand wave of her arms. “Show me how it’s done.”
His cock throbbed at the thought of wanting to show her precisely how it’s done, but he knew that wasn’t at all what she was referring to. Pasting a smile on his face, Oliver shoved those thoughts aside. He was in this for the long haul and had no desire to set her back up against him again.
Eventually he was able to remove his coat. Finding a deck of cards in a drawer, Oliver and Juliana spent the rest of the day winning and losing the same shillings from his purse. Oliver couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t wrapped up in something for the estate or slaving away for something at the House or Lords.
Besides that, scorching kiss, the time they had spent together had been rather tame by society’s standards. And yet he had enjoyed it far more than any afternoon route or glittering ballroom he had attended in an age. It took him a moment to pin down the emotion, but as soon as he grasped it, Oliver knew it to be true.
He knew his brothers would likely laugh at him or say he was being sentimental, and perhaps he was. But Oliver hadn’t had many happy moments in the last five years. So, to stumble upon one now felt like being given a gift. He wasn’t about to let this feeling go.
Chapter 9
The two weeks passed without incident. Juliana wasn’t sure how to describe how different Oliver was aboard The Corrianne. He laughed with her, played games, took her about the ship and taught her so many things about sailing that she thought her head would swim. It was as if she was sailing with the new and improved Duke of Bilkshore. He was attentive, respected her privacy, and always made certain to tend to her needs before his own.
Juliana was quite certain she had landed in paradise. The only thing that sat heavy on her mind was Amelia. Now that they were friends, or was it more than friends? Juliana didn’t know what to call their budding relationship or how to feel about it.
Oliver hadn’t mentioned his offer of marriage since that first day when he barged into her cabin. At the time Juliana had felt it was hare brained. But now that she had spent some with Oliver, she was beginning to have all of these feelings, one of which was guilt.
By keeping Vivian’s secret, was she betraying Oliver? After all, Oliver was Amelia’s uncle even if the union had never been blessed in a church. What would Oliver say when he found out that her voyage to America was solely to speak with his brother Ian?
As the days and nights rolled by, Juliana couldn’t help but worry that perhaps she was making the wrong choices. It was those night particularly when she had the most time to think about things.
Despite the fact that Oliver was courteous by allowing her to change and slip into her berth without his gazing eye. Juliana hadn’t given him the same courtesy. From the hidden covers of her bed, she watched as Oliver undressed by the single candle. All she could say was that the things she saw caused her to break out in a sweat. Staying underneath the blankets had been far more difficult than she could have imagined.
Oliver would strip down to his smalls, exposing all of that taunt muscular physic that caused her most private of places to ache with need. It had irked her that he didn’t remove the last bit of garment covering the bits that she most wanted to see.
Surely it was sinful to feel this way about a man that wasn’t your husband. However, as much as Juliana wanted Oliver for her husband, she hoped that it would counteract any sins that she inadvertently committed. And that was only because of his discretion. Juliana wanted to kiss, touch, and a whole host of other things that she had only read about. She knew it wasn’t seemly that she wished to devour the man, but frankly, she didn’t care.
As they entered their third week, a storm off the horizon caused the crew to warn everyone on board that things could get rough.
Wide-eyed Juliana turned to Oliver who had a grim expression. “How rough do you suppose things can get?”
Oliver moved over to her berth and pointed to the brass rings that were built into the hull of the ship. “We will need to be tied down while we sail through the worst of it.”
The color leeched from her face. “Tied down?”
“I will be right here,” he said, assuring her. But Juliana didn’t like the idea that he would be subject to anything flying about in the room.
As the day progressed, the sea seemed to become angrier. Juliana found
that all of her usual amusements refused to occupy her time. She was scared, and there wasn’t any other way to describe it.
When the time came to use the ropes, Juliana was terrified. She clutched the sheets in a white-knuckle grip, watching as Oliver expertly tied the knots necessary to keep her safe. The waves were crashing into the ship, tossing them this way and that.
When Oliver moved to tie himself down, Juliana clutched at him. “No, please don’t leave me.”
“I’ll be right here,” he said, leaning down to gently kiss the top of her head.
“I need you here with me, not across the room,” she broke off in a scream as the boat took a particularly large wave.
She saw the moment when Oliver capitulated. She was so happy she could have kissed him, and she would have, had she not been so afraid.
“Move over,” he said in a low tone.
Juliana did as she was told, watching as Oliver undid the ropes and then looped them around them both. She was smashed up against his chest, their legs tangling together in a mess of skirts and blankets.
Her heart was beating so wildly, Juliana wondered if he could hear it. The storm was so loud that she could barely hear herself think. She didn’t even know she was crying until he leaned down to kiss one stray tear that had managed to escape.
Instead of speaking, Oliver began to sing, at least that is what Juliana supposed he was doing. She couldn’t hear the words, but she felt the vibrations of his chest against hers. He was her lifeline and she clung to him as if she would never let go.
It seemed to Juliana that the storm lasted for hours, and perhaps it had. All she knew was the throughout the entire ordeal, the boat tipping precariously and their items being thrown across the room. Oliver continued to hold her and sing in her ear.
She wasn’t sure when it happened, but at one point the storm lessened, and thankfully, she fell into an exhausted sleep safe in the arms of the man she trusted most.
