Chapter 11
A man came over and spoke rapidly with one of the fishermen. He was better dressed than the rest, and Tomas knew that it was their Captain. The fishermen started rowing away and the man approached them.
“Aristocrats?” he asked. He was a thin man with sparse hair combed carefully to the side.
“She is,” Tomas said. There was no point lying, it was obvious that they were fleeing. The man nodded.
“You have money?” the man said again. Tomas wondered what the man would do if he’d said no. He didn’t seem like a ruthless man, but you never really knew by someone’s appearance. “It will be a more comfortable voyage if you do,” he said as if reading his thoughts.
“Yes,” Tomas responded.
“Excellent,” the man said with a smile. “Ferror here will see you to your cabin. This ship is not built for passengers so don’t have high expectations.” With that the man nodded and walked away. An elderly man with a gray beard waited for them to follow. They followed the man. Tomas noted that the ship was much more stable in the water than the boat. There was a pervasive smell of tar.
The sun was starting to rise on the horizon, but they saw no more of it as they walked down a set of stairs into the bowls of the ship. The man took them along narrow corridors until he reached a narrow wooden door.
“In here,” the man said gruffly. “You are to stay in here for the duration. A meal will be brought to you. Don’t leave the cabin. We can’t be stumbling over you as we sail.” The man turned and walked away, while they stepped into the tiny room. There was nothing in there but a small cot, that wasn’t even long enough for a grown man to stretch out properly. The cabin had a very low ceiling and barely enough room for both of them to stand at the same time.
“I wonder where they would have stashed us if we didn’t have anything to pay them,” Virginie said.
“I dread to think,” he said. “Maybe we’d have to hang over the edge of the ship.”
Virginie took off her shoes and settled on the cot. She curled her legs up and rested her head on the palm of her hand. “I can’t believe we made it this far. We are really going to England. Do you think we are safe now?”
“Yes,” he said and felt a vast amount of tension leave his body. He had done it. He had gotten them out of France. There was always a chance that the crew would turn around and take them back, but he hadn’t felt the ship turn. He also trusted the fishermen who knew this Captain well.
It had seemed very bleak for a while, especially when he’d lost sight of Virginie in the river. She hadn’t emerged once he’d thrown her in and he was busy avoiding the shots of the soldiers as he jumped after her. He’d found her though, and pulled her to the surface. There was also a time afterward where he didn’t think they would make it, when they had to run freezing wet through the night. He’d been surprised at her strength, because at more than a few times, it looked like she was ready to give up. He didn’t know what he would have done if she did. He would either have left her or he would have died with her. He wasn’t entirely sure what the response would have been given that choice. He wanted to live, but he also didn’t want to leave her to die alone.
It didn’t matter now; it wasn’t a question he would ever have to answer. He had achieved the goal and they were now safe. There was always the potential that there was danger amongst the English, but that danger was more of robbery or some other wickedness. With them there wouldn’t be anything to rob. This voyage would more or less exhausted the rest of their means.
He knew the Virginie still had her confirmation necklace, but he wanted her to keep it. It was the only thing she had from her former life and her family. He would rob someone himself to make that happen. He also knew she would offer it to him in a second, so he had to make sure he didn’t let her know how depleted their means were.
His energy was starting to flag. He’d been awake and pensive all night and it was catching up with him now. Virginie was sitting on the corner of the cot, leaving place for him to either sit or lie down. He decided to joined her on the cot. It smelled of straw and tar. It had obviously been changed out quite recently because he dreaded to think what it would smell like if it hadn’t.
“What do you think will happen when we get to England?” Virginie asked. He was impressed how her mind just moved ahead; she didn’t dwell on the past but had now turned to the concerns of the future. She could have been sobbing with the aftermath of the things they had just experienced.
“We will have to find some way of contacting your family.” He didn’t know how long that would take. His English was sufficiently good that he could write a letter. He didn’t have an address though.
“Do you know where they are?” he asked and she shook her head.
“I never had any contact with them. I know my mother is from Heresfordshire, but I am not sure where that is. I would assume that is the place they live.”
“It is likely. It’s quite far from the coast and it will take quite a bit of travel to get there.”
Virginie resumed her pensive look. He hated seeing the look of worry return to her features.
“It will be fine,” he reassured her. “Everything unpleasant from here will just be nuisance.”
She turned to him. “I owe you my life,” she said. “I would not have gotten here on my own. I would have perished if you had not helped me.”
“It was a pleasure,” he said, falling back on cavalier politeness. “It was my duty.” He’d hated the thought of it when she’d first darkened his doorstep, but he took pride in it now. He had saved her. He had done the right thing by Etienne and by her. There was an odd misstep, one he would never forget, but he couldn’t think about that now. He would have to forgive himself for it. Although perhaps they should have entrusted her in someone more gentlemanly. It bothered him more than he wanted to admit, but at least she was being delivered to her family with her neck intact. He was not the perfect savior.
“I must rest now,” he said when his eyelids started to grow heavy.
“You should lie down,” Virginie suggested. She moved further into the corner to give him space. He kicked his boots off and lay down on the cot. He had to bend one of his legs to fit on the cot and leave the other hanging off the edge. He didn’t care that the cot wasn’t entirely long enough, it felt so lovely just lying down and letting his muscles and bones relax. It felt like it had been a long time since he’d last relaxed without constant worry that he was being called upon to deal with immediate danger. The fear had always been there in the back of his mind in Angers even before she turned up. There was always the worry that the town’s people would turn on him. They were getting more reticent and aggressive every week. They had grudgingly accepted him amongst them, but all it would take would be one person who felt aggrieved or annoyed with him, and they would all turn on him. He’d tried not to, but he listened for a mob coming for him every night.
Virginie lay down next to him. He felt her soft body along his. He felt a moment of alarm because his body reacted to hers. She was warm at his side and it felt wonderful. His tiredness meant that she was safe. He let his pervasive desire for her lull him into a deeper state of relaxation. There was a good chance he was going to dream of her. Sweet dreams that he could welcome into his weary mind and body.
Virginie lay with her head at the crook of Tomas’ arm. He was snoring lightly and she listened to the constant rhythm of his breathing. Everything felt right. They were in a tiny little cubby that couldn’t really be called a room. There was nothing but them and that felt right.
She closed her eyes and just drew in the scent of him. She loved the way he smelled, woody and musky, and just masculine. She loved his body as well, the muscles and the shape. His body was so different from hers. She let her hand linger on his abdomen feeling his breath draw in and out. She felt the taunt muscles underneath. She wanted to travel her hand underneath his shirt and touch his warm skin.
She felt heat grow in her stomach
. She wanted him the way they had been in the priest hole, but without fear and desperation. She wanted him in leisure and for no other reason than pure desire. She wanted to experience being with him again, having him inside her. It was the most profound thing she had ever experienced, and it was something she wanted to experience with him and no one else.
She wanted him to kiss her again. She looked back on his face. His dark lashes were resting on his beautiful smooth skin. She was sure it would become quite golden in the heady days of summer. She wished she could see him like that. She wanted to see his beautiful dark eyes, see what he looked like when he touched her. She felt a thrill of energy surge through her. She craved him, she realized.
She conceded that she might just be in love with Tomas Sanbonne. She hadn’t been sure that love was real, but she was certain now. He was perfect in every way. He was utterly beautiful, he was capable and she felt her stomach flip when he looked at her. Even if it wasn’t love, she was quite happy with this state.
She tugged his shirt up and let her hand run over his warm skin. She let her fingers run over the muscles, along his ribcage and along the planes of his chest. Smooth skin set her fingers tingling. She wanted him to wake up so he would touch her as well.
She looked further down his body, at the belt that held his trousers and the bump where his manhood was. She wondered if she dared touch him there. She wanted to. She tentatively grazed the material over the bump and he moaned slightly in his sleep. She felt the heat in her stomach turn into a dull ache that pulsed with her heartbeat. She put her leg across his instinctively.
She wanted him to wake up. She leaned into his mouth and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm. She got a slight taste of him. She also felt his stirring slightly under the kiss. He parted his lips and received the kiss. Virginie felt a moment of jubilation, then he pulled away. He was breathing heavily. She let her hand roam his body while he looked at her.
“Virginie,” he started. “Don’t.” He put his hand on his shirt, stilling hers underneath.
“I want to touch you,” she said. He groaned and closed his eyes.
“We can’t,” he said. “It is not my right. You are not mine.”
“I can be,” she said. She rubbed her leg up his, moving her hips a little closer to his. She saw something pass through his eyes.
“You don’t know what you are saying,” he said with a hint of sadness. His hand had come up to stroke her hair.
“I know what I feel,” she replied and right now he was all she wanted. She leaned back away from him up to her knees and pulled her dress and shift over her head, leaving her completely naked. She saw his eyes roam her body, making her feel sensation where he looked.
“Please Virginie, I am not so strong.”
“You are the strongest man I have ever met.” She knew he wanted her, she could see the desire in his eyes. She lifted up and straddled his hips. She felt his body tense underneath.
“You’re seeking a demonstration of exactly how weak I am. Your guardian will never forgive me.”
“My guardian didn’t lead me through the perils you did.” She leant down and kissed him. He resisted the kiss at first, but then yielded. His lips parted and Virginie had access to the warmth inside his mouth, and as much taste of him as she could possibly want. She felt his hands come to her hips.
She could feel the hardness of him underneath her. It only drove the heat in her. She wanted to see him. She tugged on his shirt until it came free, pulling it up and he let her pull it over his head.
She leaned back and looked down on his chest. His breathing was heavy and his muscles contracted as he did. She let her hands roam over his chest, feeling the muscles tense under her touch. She felt powerful when his hands roamed up to her breasts. The sensations spread throughout her body, helped by the undulation of his hips under hers.
She couldn’t wait any longer, she wanted to get to the part where they were joined. She leant back and undid the belt that held his trousers in place, and the little tie. His manhood was large and hard under the material and she revealed it slowly. It was different from how she’d seen it before by the kiln. Much larger and firmer. He jerked when she touched the hard flesh of it. She wanted the glorious feeling of when he was inside her.
“Virginie, this-“ he started. She was not going to give him a chance to stop this. He wanted this just as much as she, and she knew it. His body was tense with anticipation. Whatever qualms he had about touching her were now mute. She wanted this and they had already been joined in that way.
She rose up and slowly sank down on his length. Her breath hitched as the sensations flooded her. She felt her body stretch to accommodate him. She was amazed that her body was capable to taking him all insider her, but it felt absolutely wonderful. She saw him arch slightly and his hands returned to her hips, urging her to move. He moaned when she rose and sank down again.
She wanted to do this forever. Wanted to see the utter pleasure on his features, feel the heat and the urgent tension that was building in her. She undulated her hips and the sensations grew stronger as did his clear enjoyment of it. She wanted him to have all of her, everything she was.
He started to move under her, then he pulled himself up and his arms came around her waist. The sensations were so strong now; she didn’t know what to do. They moved together, reaching higher points until the pleasure got unbearable. His mouth sought out hers and his tongue darted into her mouth, exploring deep inside her. His whole chest was against hers, every taunt part of him moulding into her yielding body. He moaned like he was in excruciating pain, then there was a point of silent nothingness before the world exploded. The sensations drowned out all sights and sounds; she just existed within the strong current of the sensations that pulsed through her body.
When her senses returned, she was lying on his chest feeling his body expand and contract as he drew air. He was still inside of her and she wanted to stay there. There was nowhere else in the world where she wanted to be and there was nothing she would trade this for.
He was stroking her hair and kissed her forehead. Virginie settled down beside him, just enjoying the feel of being next to him, her bare chest against the side of his. It felt wonderful. Her body had taken on a languid quality and she felt content in every way.
She remembered what she had said, that she could be his. She didn’t know if she was. She wouldn’t mind if that was the case. She wasn’t sure what a life with him would entail. She hoped her family would accept him. She knew he wanted to seek out Etienne, but he could come back after. He was the only person who was familiar to her and she didn’t want to lose him. Everyone else she knew was far away as she was heading to her mother’s homeland.
She didn’t really know what to expect of England. She’d heard stories and read about it in books, but she had no true concept of the place they were heading for. Her father hadn’t spoken of her mother often, Virginie knew it hurt him to do so, but he had said that she was beautiful as was the place she had come from. She also knew that England was cold and wet, and the damp never got out of ones clothes or furnishing. She also knew that some of the English held the French in low regard. She hoped that wasn’t true of her family. Surely they wouldn’t have married their daughter off to a Frenchman if they thought so.
All her worries seemed far away and insignificant as she lay here next to Tomas. He had covered them with his jacket to preserve the heat between them.
Tomas lay with Virginie in his arms. On one hand he didn’t regret what had just happened. He wasn’t a saint, he repeated to himself, and he had tried to resist her. He was weak when it came to her and her body. He craved it like he hadn’t craved any other woman before.
This would be the last time, he tried to reassure himself. He had already claimed her virtue, what was one more time? Other than how it plainly pointed out how pitifully weak he was. He knew there was a chance that there would be irreparable damage to her, and he would deal with that if it was the case.
He hoped not. He could not offer her a life worthy of her, which was a solid barrier for any consideration of a future together. There was no way around that.
It was the insidious fact that had ruled his life and his actions. He had nothing to offer her or any woman. He might tempt some woman who knew exactly what he offered and expected nothing, but that was not Virginie. She, and all women of her background, were used to much more. Things he could never offer her. He used to burn with pride and insult, but now he just felt sad.
She would find someone else to turn her passionate nature to, someone worthy of her. But for a few more hours, they could stay here, in this little cabin, shut away from the world.
There was a knock on the door a little while later and a lad brought them a plate of bread, cheese and roast beef. He also handed over a small carafe of red wine. The crew ate well, he recognized. He placed the plate down on the cot between them and Virginie picked up a rough slice of cheese and some bread. The beef was dry, but it tasted good all the same.
“How long do you think it will be before we can return to France?” she said after chewing on her bread for a while.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “England shouldn’t feel entirely foreign though, a sizeable proportion of France’s aristocrats are already there.”
“I wonder if there will be anyone I know,” she said.
“I am sure there will be, in London at least. Perhaps not in Heresfordshire. It might be the case that your family have property in London.”
“Father met mother in London.”
As you will likely meet your husband as well, he thought silently. He didn’t want to say it out loud, because that would make it definitive. She would likely be married within a year, maybe even to a French aristocrat hiding from the troubles back home just like her, someone who was waiting to return to his estate and to his chateau somewhere in France, and to evict whatever people had taken over his townhouse in Paris.
An Unlikely Savior Page 12
