by Platt, Meara
Her eyes widened. It felt as though she was listening to a tale of adventure written in a book. Unfortunately, these pirates were all too real.
“Do you know who led the pirate attack?” she asked, now seated on the settee beside him and still hanging upon his every word.
“No. But I’ll find out soon enough. This pirate captain thought he was being clever, showing off to the other pirates, smugglers, and assorted vermin who haunt the town. But all he’s done is rouse the ire of the king. Frigates are damned expensive, and the loss fell squarely on the royal treasury. The king will want his revenge for that.”
“May I ask one last question?” In truth, she had a thousand more she wanted to ask, but he was obviously fatigued and the strain of his meeting showed in his eyes.
He laughed. “Yes, love. Go ahead.”
“Why haven’t the harbor master and Port Isaac council been replaced? They’re obviously in–”
“Involved up to their eyeballs in smuggling and piracy? Quite possibly. But they are also protected by someone very high up in our government. Perhaps even within the king’s own inner circle. Some of the ill-gotten lucre may even be getting back into the king’s own hands. Who knows? It would be quite the jest, him burned—quite literally—for his own misdeeds.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Do you believe the king himself is involved?”
“I don’t know. I don’t care. I’ll leave it to someone in government to handle that rattling snake.”
She rang for light refreshments to be brought in. “How many lords do you think are in business with these smugglers and pirates?”
“It could be all of them. I truly don’t know. I detest the politics of the situation. I’m a warrior, not a windbag. We are very different animals. I doubt we are in any way related. Warriors are trained to defend their country and place their own interests last. Politicians think of themselves first. They’d throw their own grandmothers to the wolves if it would advance their careers.”
“I had no idea you were so cynical.”
“It’s hard to patrol the Cornish coast and still feel optimistic about the charitable nature of man. Perhaps I am being too harsh. There are good men, lots of them. But the smuggling in and out of Cornwall seems to attract men of greed.”
“Do you believe the king is one of them?”
“No, not in any significant way. He is aware of what goes on and chooses not to do much about it. However, there is probably more damage to be done if he does come down too hard. It cannot be easy for him to control all these lords, and the general populace would be howling if they could not get around some of the taxes imposed. The king is no fool. He has to appease so many factions. I’m not there to stop the piracy and smuggling so much as to control it so it does not get too far out of hand.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s speak no more about it, love. The upshot is, I’ve been given back my old command.”
“Patrolling the Cornish coast.”
“It will keep me closer to home. Closer to you.”
She nestled against him when he wrapped his arm around her to draw her close. “I said I had one last question, but I have another. Do you mind, Romulus?”
“No, love. Ask it.”
“What of the cabin boy? Do you know who he is?”
“Not a clue.”
“I’ll prepare a package for him. A sweater, mittens, scarf, and cap. I understand it can get cold out on the water. I’ll pack the same for you. Do you think he reads? I’ll add some books, too.” She nibbled her lip. “But what if he doesn’t read?”
Romulus emitted a deep, rumbling laugh. “I wonder if his mother gives as much thought to him as you do. If he doesn’t know his letters, then I’ll read to him. Satisfied?”
She nodded. “You’re a good man, Romulus Brayden.”
He lifted her onto his lap. “No, I’m not. I’m a lecherous fiend who has an insatiable appetite for pretty brunettes with violet eyes.”
She kissed him lightly on the lips, then drew back grinning. “I seem to have developed a fascination for big, green-eyed captains in the Royal Navy.”
Romulus dipped his head to kiss her properly, but Violet darted off his lap as their butler rolled in the tea cart. “The refreshments,” she said breathlessly, trying not to look so guilty. It did not help that Romulus made no effort to hide his amusement or his hot gaze.
It also seemed a little ridiculous that Romulus should eat before walking next door for supper with Violet’s family, but the two slices of pie he had devoured earlier in the day was not enough to sustain a man his size.
Shortly afterward, Romulus walked her next door and settled in the library with her uncles while she skittered upstairs to greet her newly arrived cousins. They were unpacking their trunks in the bedchamber once shared by the twins, Lily and Dillie. But now that the twins were married, their room was used for visiting relatives. “Belle! Honey!”
Violet’s cousins rushed to hug her. “Violet! You’ve been busy,” Honey said, not taking a breath before continuing in a mix of squeals and giggles that was so unlike her usually staid and composed cousin. “Aunt Sophie told us everything. I cannot believe you’re married! I thought we three would be attending the balls, soirees, and musicales together, comparing our dance cards and commenting on the young bucks who seem most promising.”
“And those who are to be crossed off our lists immediately,” Belle added with a grin.
“Is your husband here?” Honey asked. “Oh, goodness! It sounds so odd. I still cannot wrap my head around the news.”
“You’ll meet Romulus when we return downstairs. He’s wonderful.”
Honey gave her another hug. “I can tell by your smile. Does he happen to have a brother of marriageable age for Belle?”
Belle now frowned. “Stop, Honey. I don’t need you matchmaking for me. And what about you?”
“Never mind about me,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “You’re the one who ought to marry.”
Belle turned to Violet. “Our parents will be furious when they find out Honey has no intention of finding herself a husband. She’s only here to keep me company.”
“We’ll see about that,” Violet said. “Things happen, as I can attest. Romulus has no available brothers, but he does have some very handsome cousins. You’ll meet at least one of them soon. His name is Finn Brayden, and he’s helping me out with the charity recital. Has Aunt Sophie told you about it?”
“Yes, we got an earful about all that went on this past week.” Belle shook her head and chuckled. “We’re so sorry we missed all the fun. Poor Aunt Sophie! Between worrying over her daughters and you, I’m amazed her hair has not turned completely gray. She begged us to stay out of trouble. We promised her we’d behave, but she merely sighed and gazed heavenward. I don’t think she believes us.”
Violet couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s this street, Chipping Way. Things just happen.” She locked her arm in Belle’s. “Come, meet my husband.”
The men walked out of the library when they heard the women come downstairs. Romulus was impossible to overlook, for he was much bigger than the other men. “Oh, my heavens,” Belle whispered. “That’s him?”
Violet nodded.
“Blessed saints,” Honey muttered. “And there are more just like him? Belle has to meet one of these eligible Braydens.”
Belle frowned. “What about you?”
“I told you, I’m taking over the family business. A husband will only be a hindrance.”
Violet knew she had to have a serious discussion with Honey, but now was not the time. She’d take her aside after the charity recital. The right partner opened up opportunities, not shut doors. But Honey could be stubborn and would take a good deal of persuading.
After introductions were made, they all entered the dining room to sit for supper. The conversation was lively, mostly about the progress of the recital. Dillie and Daisy joined them shortly afterward, along with their husbands,
happy to report they’d already collected a substantial number of vouchers they would turn over to Finn tomorrow. “Ticket sales are brisk,” Dillie said, “but most will simply pay at the door.” She glanced at her own husband and smirked. “Ian will see to that.”
It helped that Dillie was married to a duke, especially one as powerful and respected as Ian Markham, the Duke of Edgeware. The notion of actually paying up front was foreign to most of the Upper Crust, but they would not dare defy Edgeware.
It seemed he and Daisy’s husband, Lord Gabriel Dayne, were quite enjoying setting down the law to these lords and ladies. “Some of them are insufferable,” Gabriel muttered. “They think they can run up tabs wherever they please. Most pay up eventually, but there are always a few who never do and never will. I can understand those who suffer from a desperate lack of funds. But there are those who do so merely out of disdain for their inferiors. And they conveniently believe everyone is their inferior. I look forward to tossing those churls out on their ear.”
Daisy cast her husband a warning glance. “There will be no unpleasantness at your charity affair, Violet. Never you worry. No fists will be raised.”
“I’m so grateful to all of you. This is wonderful,” Violet said, her eyes aglow and her heart beating with excitement. “I wish the abbess of St. Aubrey’s was here, but this affair is all so rushed, I doubt she’ll respond to my letter until after the recital. She’ll want to write to each of you to thank you personally.”
“None required. It is our pleasure,” Dillie’s husband said, glancing at Dillie with so much love gleaming in his eyes, that it stole Violet’s breath away. Would Romulus grow to love her as much as Ian obviously loved Dillie?
The gossip rags had been brutal in their description of Ian as well as of Daisy’s husband, Gabriel. They were called wastrels, devils, disreputable rakehells. Mothers were warned to hide their daughters from these rogues.
Good thing Dillie and Daisy had paid no attention to the whispers.
Looking at these two couples, Violet was convinced love worked miracles.
The evening, as enjoyable as it was, ended early. The recital planning was mostly done, and Belle and Honey were stifling yawns after their long journey.
Violet was eager to return home with Romulus, for every minute alone with him was precious. He’d been reassigned to his old command, so there would be no grand tour or honeymoon for them, just a few days to get to know each other better before they were forced apart.
They walked home and immediately retired to their bedchamber.
Violet expected Romulus to have her undressed and in bed the moment the door closed behind them, but he strode to the window instead and appeared to be gazing at the moonlight.
Violet walked to his side and peered out as well. “A beautiful moon tonight, isn’t it?”
“Yes, love.” He turned to her with a wistful smile.
“What are you thinking?” she asked when he returned his gaze to the moon.
He shrugged. “I was wishing that time would stop, right here. Right now. I want to capture this night alone with you and hold it forever.”
When he turned to face her, she tugged lightly on his cravat to unknot it. “Then let’s get to it, Captain Brayden. There isn’t a moment to waste.” But her smile faded as she studied his features in the moon’s glow. “You’re still worried. What is it that has you so tense? My recital? Your return to Cornwall?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw as he reached out to turn her in his arms so that her back was now pressed lightly to his chest and his arms were around her as they both gazed out the window. “I rarely see such a clear sky when I’m on patrol off the coast. Fog usually swirls in deeper waters, like a gray cloak draped over my ship. But some nights, there is not so much as a wisp to be seen. On such a night, the moon is bright and full. It sits like a huge, silver ball, silent and glistening over the dark waves. The stars blanket the sky. They can blind a man with their shimmering sparkle.”
“Sounds beautiful.”
“It is. On those nights, the sea is gentle and quiet. One can hear the waves lapping the hull. I hope to share this sight with you before too long. Once I’m settled, I’ll send for you. But not until I’m certain it’s safe.”
She nestled against him, her cheek resting upon his broad chest. “I look forward to the day. I can’t wait to see your ship, to sail away on it with you. To stand in your arms as you show me the moon and stars.”
“There’s nothing like it, Violet. The beauty of it seeps into your soul.” He turned her and kissed her deeply. “As you have seeped into my soul.”
He lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed. Violet could see that he was still worried, even as he lowered his body over hers and made sweet, slow love to her.
What troubled him?
Her recital? The new cabin boy? The pirates who were overly emboldened? Jameson Forester, of course?
His worry now nagged at her, remaining in the dark recesses of her mind even as his hands slid magically along her body, caressing her and rousing her so that she was hot and ready when his big, magnificent body joined with hers. He sent her soaring to the silver moon and sparkling stars he had just been talking about. “I love you, Romulus.”
“Thank The Graces,” he teased. “I was worried you were bored and not enjoying yourself.”
“And you? Are you bored?”
He groaned. “Hell, no. My low brain is in spasms and ready to go again.”
“Is it physically possible for your body to recover so fast?”
“Men are like salmon during spawning season. They will ignore the laws of gravity, defy the impossible for the chance to mate.”
But he did little more than hold her in his arms and stroke his fingers gently along her skin for a good, long while. Only after a length of time had passed, did he shift her under him, pressing his body over hers and stoking the fires within her. Their coupling felt different this time, perhaps a little more desperate, as though Romulus’s soul ached. It was as though a sadness had overwhelmed him even as he thrust into her and found his release.
Their separation would be harder on him than it would be on her. She would have her family and his to keep her company and occupy her time. Belle and Honey would be a distraction for certain. But Romulus would be on patrol, chasing down pirates and enduring sudden squalls.
Perhaps it was merely a commander’s nature to think of all that could go wrong. Those worries would not leave him, not even while he was in the throes of ecstasy. She was not hurt or angry. She knew he took pleasure in her body. But he was also thinking of his impending return to his old command and resuming his old life, one that did not include her.
She sensed he was already missing her.
Worrying about being apart from her.
His worry was infectious, and this insidious, inkling of doubt crept into her heart as well, leaving her with unsettled dreams.
Would she ever have the chance to stand in the circle of his arms on the deck of his ship?
Or would it all go horribly wrong and she’d never see Romulus alive again once he returned to Cornwall?
Chapter Eighteen
The rain cleared off early Saturday morning, the day of Violet’s recital. She was relieved, for the dampness was not good for her throat and she was tense enough already. A mere eight hours left until the big event.
She’d hardly touched her breakfast and was now picking at her noontime meal. The thought of a hundred spectators paying to hear her sing, ogling her, and expecting to be dazzled by her performance, had her stomach tied in knots.
“Violet, love. Are you all right?” Romulus asked, frowning as he watched her from across the table.
“Yes, perfect.” She flashed him a smile and quietly tried to calm her nerves by reminding herself of all that was in readiness. “Perhaps I ought to try on the gown once more. Just to be certain–”
“What? Just to be certain you haven’t suddenly grown too tall for it? Or to
o big for it? I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It fit you to perfection yesterday.” His frown of concern eased into a rakish grin. “Gad, you looked so good in it. I wanted to strip you out of it so badly.”
“That makes no sense.” Her gown was more of a costume piece, an opalescent, pearl-colored silk confection in a medieval style that had a silk overtunic in hues of blue and green, the colors of the ocean, and a silver belt that circled her hips and fell to a V in front. It had been freshened and was neatly laid out on her bed.
“It makes perfect sense. You looked spectacular in it, so where else was my low brain to go but to wish to see you naked out of it? You look spectacular right now, by the way.”
She gasped. “We are not going upstairs to bed. I’m not about to let you get me hot and sweaty, then I’ll have to bathe all over again.” She had been treated like a queen this morning, the tub brought up to their chamber, hot water poured into it along with exotic, fragrant oils that Belle and Honey had brought with them from their Oxford perfume shop.
She’d enjoyed a good, long soak, and then her maid had washed her hair before the water turned too cold. There was nothing more to do but style her curls now that they had dried.
Romulus took a sip of his coffee, then set down his cup. “I’m available to assist you with another bath should you change your mind. Not that I’m insisting, mind you. I just want to be clear about my willingness to help.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that right? You’d lather me up? Wash me down?”
“Why not? I did a commendable job rubbing vinegar all over your body when the bees attacked, if you will recall. I can do the same with scented soaps or oils.”
“I’m impressed,” she teased. “You are quite versatile.”
He cast her a seductive smile. “Care to find out just how versatile?”
“Oh, you wicked, wicked man!” She was so tempted, but she dared not. Still, he was incredibly…no! She began to fuss with her hair.
Jameson had suggested she leave it down tonight, as part of the theatrical effect, so that it tumbled long and loose over her shoulders and down her back. He said it would give the impression of youth and innocence, not to mention beauty. He vowed they would haul in another thousand pounds from the well-heeled, London set because of it.
