by Eliza Knight
She nipped at his neck, licked his lobe and pressed kisses to his face.
“This is our last night together,” he said breathily, and kissed her lightly on the lips. Their bodies molded together so perfectly. If he could, he would never leave the bed, content to lie in the warmth of her arms forever.
“Let it not be our last night,” she murmured, bringing a knee up and caressing his hip with her calf, her toes trailing down his thigh.
“There is no other way,” he said, rubbing a hand over her silky, lithe leg.
“Aye, there is.” She brought up her other knee and lifted her hips, cradling his hard cock against her sex.
“How?” he asked, pressing his own hips forward until the tip of his arousal pushed into her opening.
“Oh,” she moaned and lifted her hips more, her body begging for him to move deeper.
“Tell me, Faryn, tell me. I want to know how I can keep ye forever.” He pressed his forehead to hers and drove all the way inside her.
“Aye, keep me forever,” she whispered, pressing hot kisses to his shoulder and neck. She rocked her hips up and down, her fingers scratching down his back. “If we could only stay like this.”
“Oh aye,” he moaned, pulling out and plunging deep.
Her moans increased, and talking ceased as she succumbed to his lovemaking. He drove in again and again, lifting her buttocks to sink in deeper still.
Soon the sounds of their moans and the creaking of the bed echoed in the cabin.
And then the final culmination, as her body shook and she arched her back, head falling back, and he too let go, releasing deep inside her.
When their breathing had returned to normal, Wraith lay down on his back and pulled Faryn to lie atop him so he could stroke her silky hair.
“Ye didna tell me,” he said.
“Tell ye what?” she asked, her voice warm like that of a sated woman.
“How can we make tonight last forever?”
She nodded, her cheek rubbing against his chest. “Let us go to the Lord Chancellor first, and not my father. Then we can at least prolong our parting. That is, unless…” But she trailed off.
He stiffened. Would she reject him now? How he desperately needed her! His heart ached with the thought of not being near her. “Unless what?”
“Unless there is a way to never take me home again. I could stay with ye. Here. On the ship.”
The thought had not occurred to him to keep her forever. Once they’d made his statements to the Lord Chancellor and cleared his name—he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He’d never made plans that far in advance. Over the years, it had only been that he needed to seek revenge on those who’d destroyed him.
“Do ye not wish to return home?”
She looked up at him, confused. “Wraith, my family has sold me to the only man who would have me—a vicious and vile man. Who thankfully ye have dispatched.” She crossed herself. “I should never wish him dead but I canna help it, as he for sure would have seen me returned to the earth. They will only sell me again and this time to someone worse. I will not return.”
He didn’t want to promise her anything, because he wasn’t sure if even with his proof the Lord Chancellor would believe him, and that if he did believe Wraith, that he would return his lands. It could be that Viscount Loftford enjoyed taking the tariffs from his land, that they lined his coffers quite well and he would rather see Wraith convicted and guillotined than return what was rightfully his.
If such were the case, Wraith wasn’t sure he’d be able to escape…at least not with a pulse.
“We shall travel together and see what the Lord Chancellor declares upon seeing my proof of innocence. I canna promise ye anything until then, Faryn. But know this, I would have ye with me always, and I willna take ye to your father’s home if ’tis your wish.”
Chapter Eleven
The cabin was dark, except for a light orange-pink light that shafted through the porthole to dance on the opposite wall—dusk. Faryn sat on a cushion bench beneath the porthole, watching the tiny sparkles of dust that danced in the streak of light but dared not move.
They’d docked this morning before dawn in the caves by a beach and all day the men had been at work while she waited until evening for Wraith to call for her. Men had already begun making their way to level ground, where they’d secure horses and ride all the way to Dublin to see Viscount Loftford, the Lord Chancellor of Ireland.
A knock sounded swiftly, followed by one of the crewman ducking his head inside upon her call. “My lady, the cap’n awaits ye.”
Faryn nodded and followed the crewman from her cabin to the dinghy that was soon rowed to shore. She followed the wiry man through a break in the rock to a concealed pathway that led up the side of a cliff. The rock beneath her feet was slippery and she placed each foot very carefully, thankful for the new leather boots brought to her earlier in the day.
They reached the top of the cliff and she scanned the area, now completely covered in darkness. Even the moon seemed hidden.
“This way,” the sailor whispered and tugged on her arm. They didn’t walk long before coming upon Wraith and his small entourage, the clouds covering the moon moving in just enough time to gleam on her lover, almost as if revealing him there just for her.
He gave her a confident, knowing smile that sent shivers along her limbs and memories of the hours they’d spent alone swirling in her mind.
“We are in luck, leannan, for the Lord Chancellor is in Galway and not Dublin. Our trip will be less dangerous and only one night instead of four. And yet, still far enough away my ship and crew will be safe. Let us make haste.”
She mounted the horse he indicated and they took off at a quick pace. He’d warned her it would be a rough journey with their speed, and having not ridden in several months, she wasn’t exactly ready for the bone-jarring pace. Much more difficult was the fact that it was night and she could barely see in front of her, let alone the ground. They did not travel on the main road but through fields and forest. Consequently, she was in fear of being thrown the entire time.
Under the cover of darkness was the only way to travel, especially with a price on Wraith’s head. Although Faryn doubted anyone would recognize him. Years had passed since he’d openly set foot in Ireland, and under his current guise he looked not so lordly, and quite the pirate.
Tight black breeches clung to long, muscled legs, which in turn clutched the horse he’d absconded with from a local stable. He’d forgone a jacket and wore only the black linen shirt he was partial to. At his hip was his plaid belt outfitted with weapons and on his hands black leather gloves. A black captain’s hat sat atop his head, only slightly larger and more intimidating. His jaw was clenched tight, his eyes scanned the area. Faryn had trouble not staring when her gaze kept drifting—without her control—over his body. She watched the muscles ripple beneath the fabric of both his breeches and his linen shirt, the moonlight making him all the more mysterious and enticing. His thick arms, bunched and taut, as he wielded the reins of the horse. Without thinking, she licked her lips, imagining running her arms over the ridges and contours.
“My lady!” shouted Churl from her right.
She glanced ahead just in time to see what he warned her of. Her horse headed straight for a foxhole in the ground. She tightened her grip on the reins and tugged left, within seconds clear of what could have been a disaster.
Her heart pounded in her ears and her breath had all but ceased. Wraith glanced at her with a frown but didn’t stop his progress.
An accident was the last thing she needed, it would only solidify in his mind that he should not have brought her, and perhaps even push him to return her to her family. That could not happen under any circumstances until she’d had time to speak to Viscount Loftford herself—although she prayed she never saw her family again. Not after how they’d treated her, and what she’d recently learned of her father’s involvement in the death of Wraith’s family.
&
nbsp; She kept her vision forward and did not chance to look at Wraith again, else she come within seconds of tragedy once more and destroy their mission for good.
By the time the sun made a pink line on the horizon the following morning, they’d reached the city of Galway. They easily entered and their horses were taken to the stables. Faryn waited on baited breath for Wraith to be immediately seized by guards, but they never came. Instead, the personal steward of the Lord Chancellor came forward and somehow, Wraith managed to obtain two adjoining rooms in the castle Viscount Loftford had claimed, as well as lodging for his men. He had said that the viscount had once been particularly fond of his father, but Faryn couldn’t help but fear it was a trap.
A light knock sounded at her door. She moved away from the window she’d been gazing out of and opened the adjoining door to Wraith’s room.
“Faryn,” he said softly, and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle caress. “Ye’re not asleep yet?”
She shook her head. “I am too nervous.”
“I am glad ye have yet to slumber, I’ve learned something.”
“Come in,” she said, tugging his hand.
He slipped into her room and drew her to the bed, where they lay down together, her head on his chest.
“Loftford will see me today, in secret. I had thought he would make me wait days, to agonize over our meeting, but he is preparing to see me after his morning mass and he breaks his fast.”
She drew imaginary circles on his chest. “Wraith, that is wonderful.” Then perhaps they could get back to the life they’d carved for themselves on the ship…if he would have her.
“There is more.” But he didn’t go on.
“What is it?” she asked, fearing what he would say.
“Your father and mother are also in residence.”
She sat up, any bit of sleep that ebbed on the outskirts of her mind completely gone. “What?”
That trap she’d imagined felt like it had finally fallen down, caging her in.
“He seeks to beg the Lord Chancellor’s favor in rewarding him with the earldom. I suppose he feels he deserves it since the king has not rewarded anyone with it. I understand your father works the lands now and provides knights to the king for it, yet the majority of the coin derived from it goes to the royal coffers.”
“But they are your title and estates! Not his!”
“Aye.” Wraith looked resigned to the fact.
Anger sliced through Faryn. How could her father, the man who’d sired her, be so evil? And what of her mother? Was she also so cruel, or did she have little to say, just watching from the dark corners as her husband wreaked havoc on mankind and got away with it? She had to remind herself that Wraith knew not what she did about her father’s heinous crimes against his family. He only knew the man to be a bad father, not a murderer, too.
“I wish to come with ye when ye speak to Viscount Loftford.” She came to her knees to kneel before him, her eyes beseeching.
“I dinna think ’tis a good idea.” Wraith shook his head, his lips set in a firm line.
“Wraith,” she implored, reaching out to grip his hands with hers. “I know ye dinna wish me to be in harm’s way but if the king is as ye say, then I will be safe. At least then I willna be here where my father could find me if he gets word of our arrival. And…I couldna let ye go alone.”
He smiled at her indulgently. “Ye’re worried about me, leannan?”
“Aye.” She hoped that he would allow her to go along with what she’d said. But if he still said no then she would find a way to go anyway.
“I suppose it canna hurt to have ye with me but ye must not interfere. Promise me.”
“I wouldna dream of ruining your chances at freedom.”
She said a silent prayer of thanks that it had been so easy to convince him to allow her to accompany him.
Wraith laid out the documents and evidence that he’d gathered over the years on a table in front of Loftford. The Lord Chancellor’s eyes lit on the ring. Faryn saw the note of recognition that flared in his eyes.
She did as Wraith had asked and remained in the corner. She still wore the gown he’d given her before they’d disembarked from the ship but at least she’d had a chance to wash the grime of their ride from her person and her hair was neatly pulled up, curls falling around her cheeks. But for all her decorum, her insides were tied up in knots and she might have vomited if she’d eaten anything, and was glad she’d declined breaking her fast.
Wraith still looked the same as he always did to her—dangerous and delicious. But also calm and collected. He had a confidence about him that made others follow his lead.
Viscount Loftford had recognized him at once and his eyes had sparkled, even if his demeanor remained stoic. He sat poised in a high back chair on the dais.
“I have seen this ring before,” Loftford said and his eyes locked on Wraith. “Havena ye?”
Wraith slowly shook his head. “It seems familiar to me but I dinna know whether ’tis from memory or from having stared at it so many times.”
“’Tis a nobleman’s ring. A man who is today at my court.”
Wraith’s gaze popped up from where he’d been gazing on the ring. “Here? Now?”
Loftford nodded.
Faryn opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She cleared her throat of the cobwebs caused by anxiety. “My lord,” she managed to squeak.
“Come forward, child,” he said.
She came forward curtsied.
“Did ye have something ye wished to say?”
She nodded, still looking at the ground. She swore she could feel the air in the room tighten along with Wraith’s body. His anger was no doubt piqued at her now for interrupting.
“What is it?” Loftford’s voice was gentle, as he must have had an idea of what she would say, since he knew from her introduction upon entering who she was. She’d seen the flash of recognition in his eyes along with the curiosity of her being with Wraith before he’d schooled his features.
“The ring… ’Tis my father’s.” There, she’d said it. Lightning had not struck her. She hadn’t vomited. But beside her, an angry warmth raged from Wraith like fire. His hands were fisted at his sides and she couldn’t meet his gaze.
“Aye, my lady,” Loftford crooned. “Had ye any knowledge of his part in the crimes he committed against the Earl of Drohgard?”
“Nay.” She shook her head vehemently. “I only knew when I saw the ring.”
Loftford nodded, satisfied, but Wraith still stood beside her, deadly silent.
“There ye have it, lad, and I do believe ye. Baron Claneford will be arrested, his titles and lands forfeited. I shall have my men investigate the matter to see ye are cleared of the crimes.”
Faryn’s head nearly burst. So quick it was, and just like that, the Lord Chancellor had said he would arrest her father, he would look into clearing Wraith’s name.
Her heart burst with pleasure and pride for Wraith. He must be so relieved! All of his hard work, all his suffering was nearly to an end. And though she hated her father, she felt a sudden rush of fear for him. What would happen? Would they put him to death?
She caught Wraith’s gaze and faltered. What she saw in front of her was the true Captain Wraith Noir. The one who did battle, the one who kidnapped innocents and murdered for riches. The dangerous pirate. His eyes were filled with rage when they met hers, and if looks could kill, she would be a pile of bones, muscle and flesh on the floor.
She’d known he would be upset with her, that he would see her as having lied to him, kept things from him, but she had not thought he would show her this level of outrage, this level of hatred.
“Ye lied to me. Ye deliberately kept the truth from me. Why do such a thing unless ye were a part of it? Unless ye sought from the very beginning to reel me into your family’s web of treachery? Tell me, had your father heard that I’d be anchoring that night ye walked on the beach? Did he tell ye to spread your legs f
or me?”
Faryn blanched. Her stomach plummeted and her mouth went dry. Before Wraith could say another word to mortify her further, she fled from the room.
Chapter Twelve
Faryn thought for sure her heart would burst within her chest. The pain seared through her with rising agony. She’d thought she’d prepared herself for his belief in her betrayal, even though it was furthest from the truth, but even that had not truly prepared her for how it felt to see the anger in his eyes.
Where once affection, desire and respect had filled his gaze, now it was replaced with something more sinister, a feeling she’d hoped to never experience but in the end had some inkling was coming. It felt as though he’d taken one of his blades and thrust it through her heart.
She ran blindly as tears filled her eyes and managed with awkward shaking hands to lift her skirts enough so that she didn’t trip on their length.
“Oof!” With a thud, her flight halted against a body and strong arms held her from falling onto the ground.
Through hazy eyes, she made out a figure—an all too familiar figure.
“Daughter!” Her father’s growl cut through the racing thoughts in her mind.
She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She didn’t know whether to scream or act as though she knew nothing, and her head swam and threatened to make her faint dead away.
“What are ye doing in Galway? Where have ye been? We have been looking for ye! Lord Bréagadóir has taken to the sea fearing ye were stolen by pirates.”
He shook her like a rag doll, her head flopping back and forth, her teeth clicking together, when she did not speak to answer him.
“Do ye defy me? Have ye run away from your duty?” Spittle flew onto her face as he bellowed at her.
A crowd gathered around them, none too discreetly.
“How could ye?” The words slipped from her mouth before she could rein them in.
He narrowed his eyes at her, his grip on her arms tightening.
