Sexual Hunger

by Melissa MacNeal

  She turned to address Maria then, a she-dragon ready to shoot flames. “And you, missy, would never have enjoyed the favor Phillip bestowed upon you—much less the town house, after Jason was abducted—had he known of your duplicitous nature! I find this whole sordid affair disgusting! Disgraceful!”

  Her accusations rang in the small room as the group sat before plates of cold, rubbery eggs and bread left from last night’s dinner. Not that Maria felt inclined to eat: Lady Darington’s glare left no doubt of her intention to win this battle. Her expression softened slightly, however, when she glanced at Polinsky: he sat beside her, ready to jump into the fray like a snarling dog if she wanted him to. Jude appeared stunned. Maria’s brother straightened in his chair and took her hand.

  On her other side, Jemma sat wide-eyed: she was indeed hearing of matters not generally discussed in front of young ladies. And she was certainly old enough to understand Lady Darington’s accusations about the triangular love knot Maria had tied with Jason and Jude. When she gawked openly, Maria kept a straight face and returned her gaze. The young blonde blinked and looked down at her untouched breakfast.

  Should she respond to Dora’s scathing remark? Or would she only dig a deeper pit? As the moments of silence crept by, the little room felt so airless…Maria wanted to blurt out a rebuttal, or excuses, or anything to relieve the rising tension—

  Which would play right into Lady Darington’s hand, wouldn’t it? Nearly anything she said would incriminate her. And it was one of Rubio’s favorite tricks, remaining silent so a client would talk.

  So Maria kept her facial expression noncommittal. Let her gaze wander to each of the others at the crowded table, determined not to knuckle under to Dora’s accusations. When Jemma’s fork clattered to her plate, everyone jumped.

  “Mumsy, I—” The girl was at a loss without her ferret to fondle, so she bungled ahead. “Mumsy, you’ve never talked about Daddy—about how you fell in love, or the party you had at your wedding. Or why you married him in the first place. You’ve scarcely referred to him since the funeral, and I—I would like to hear about those things. Sometime, anyway.”

  Again the little room got quiet, but with a different tension this time: Lady Darington’s mask of control crumpled—if only for a moment—before she found a reply, as though her daughter had stumbled upon a very touchy subject.

  “My marriage to Phillip, Lord Darington, was not what it seemed,” she stated quietly. “Without elaborating about…unseemly details, I will say that while this voyage is an effort to reclaim my son, it’s also a declaration of my independence. I remained a steadfast wife until death did us part, but I refuse to follow society’s code of mourning for a man who married me for reasons…other than love.”

  Dora stood then, visibly shaken. “I pray that you, dear daughter, will never endure the trials I have survived for the sake of raising my children…to best advantage. Please excuse me, I—”

  As Lady Darington rushed from the room, a sob escaped her. Jude and Jemma appeared flummoxed by what their mother had revealed, yet both rose to follow her. Polinsky stood up, as well, taking each of them by the arm.

  “Allow your mother some time alone,” he suggested in a surprisingly compassionate voice. “She has repressed some very strong emotions since your father’s passing, so you wouldn’t see how helpless and vulnerable she feels right now—so you wouldn’t worry about her…mental state.” The medium glanced at Rubio, to check for any challenge in his eyes. Then he looked at Jude. “How much longer before we reach America?”

  “Another day or so, I think. Why do you ask?” Jude removed the magician’s hand from his arm. “This may sound cold, but I’ve witnessed Mum’s little exit scenes a hundred times—usually when she was trying to get her way and Father wasn’t budging. If you’re instructing us to leave her be, then the same goes for you, Polinsky!”

  “I have no intention of intruding upon her—”

  “After what I saw this morning, your intention looks quite self-serving!”

  “Oh, this is all my fault!” Jemma began to cry noisily. “I shouldn’t have asked such a personal question in front of—well, why would Mumsy answer it in front of you men? You don’t understand anything!”

  “But you’re right, Jemma.” With a puzzled sigh, Jude opened his arms and his little sister threw herself into his embrace. “She’s never spoken of her marriage, and you’d think she would’ve recalled fond memories of her own wedding when we were preparing for Jason and Maria’s. I, too, have been curious about her feelings for Father…because she’s never displayed any.”

  While she was pleased to see Jude comforting his younger sister, Maria felt awkward watching them discuss their parents’ relationship. She excused herself to go outside, where the morning sun had burned away the fog. The sea breeze lifted her spirits, yet she wondered if she’d have to remain holed up in her room to avoid further confrontations. It was an emotional time for Dora Darington: she understood that. But she suspected Jude was right. His mother had staged a little scene when Jemma’s questions sent the conversation in an unexpected direction.

  She heard voices behind her on the deck, saw Jemma strolling, carrying Willie in a birdcage one of the sailors had found in the hold. The young woman had no more than paused at the railing before two deckhands greeted her with eager grins—just what any girl needed to feel better, wasn’t it? Maria gazed ahead of the Fortune’s Opportunity, wishing land would appear because it meant she’d be closer to finding Jason…closer to feeling better than she had for weeks.

  But all she saw was endless blue-gray water, in every direction.

  “For you, dear sister.”

  Maria smelled something wonderfully warm and sweet—and then snatched a thick slice of fresh bread, redolent with cinnamon and currants, from her brother’s hand. “Where did you find this?” she asked before taking a huge, unladylike bite.

  Rubio chuckled, chewing on his own slice. “Pays to make friends with the cook. I’m the one who rid his kitchen of that ferret, after all.”

  “Thank you. I didn’t realize how hungry I was while all that…finger-pointing was going on.” Sighing with sheer enjoyment, she bit into the fresh bread again. “I can’t tell you how glad I’ll be to reach port. I just want to find Jason and go home to my happily ever after. Is that too much to ask?”

  He smiled ruefully. “You have every right to ask for that happiness—and to expect it, from what I can sense. But in the meantime, do you recall how I predicted several secrets would be revealed before this voyage concluded?”

  Maria sighed. “And my…arrangement with Jason and Jude is just the first?”

  “We’ve only just begun. Brace yourself for rough waters ahead, Maria.”

  24

  “What are we to do, Jude? Will your mother watch us every moment now? Even after we find Jason?” Maria sighed as they strolled along the sunny deck, wishing she felt as lovely as the morning that made sun diamonds sparkle on the sea. Captain MacLeod had said they’d catch their first glimpse of American shores this afternoon, and it couldn’t come soon enough: tensions aboard the ship escalated with every conversation.

  “What can she do?” he replied quietly. “Without us, she’ll never find her beloved firstborn son—if he lets us locate him. I’ve wondered if his pirate impersonation is a game, an escape route so he won’t have to return home and deal with Mum.” Jude smiled sadly. “But then, I can’t imagine him forfeiting you. He’d come home to you even if Wildwood and the title weren’t to be his.”

  “And how would Jason know his father has died, if he’s eluded Darington Shipping’s partners? And the law?”

  Jude nodded, ducking as though to steal a kiss. But he jerked away. “That’s a logical way to look at it. And we’re being looked at, as well.”

  Yosef Polinsky stood at the rail ahead of them, gazing out over the endless ocean—or had he anticipated the two of them walking past him? Maria had learned long ago not to assume anything impossib
le for those with connections to the spirit world, those who possessed the second sight.

  The medium’s smile seemed speculative as he looked at them. “We’ll spot land any time now. My spirit guide has informed me your brother is cutting his capers near the port of Charleston, so I shall instruct the captain accordingly. And might I add”—as he smiled at Maria—“that the moment he sees you, Miss Palladino, will be the moment we’ll have him in tow. I feel Jason’s spirit yearning for affection! Calling out to someone he’s been missing but can’t quite name.”

  Maria’s stomach fluttered, yet she did not reply. If she believed what this clairvoyant said, would she betray her brother and his guides?

  Polinsky tilted his head slightly, imploring her with a smile. His gaze smoldered with blue-eyed fire. “When you accompany Pandora and me—”

  “My sister will be with me, Polinsky.” Rubio spoke from behind them. Maria hadn’t heard her brother approach but his hands closed firmly around her shoulders. “Not only are you mistaken about Jason’s whereabouts, I don’t trust my sister in your company. I don’t like the way you’ve been eyeing her unusual pendant.”

  Polinksy stiffened. “Are you implying—”

  “No, I’m saying outright that the rumors flying about London are true. Meriweather Golding and her friends are too embarrassed to go to the police, after they welcomed you into their homes, but you were the scoundrel who absconded with their jewelry.”

  “Now see here, Palladino! It’s one thing to challenge another medium about his predictions, but you’re calling me a thief—”

  “Calling a spade a spade.”

  “—without any proof to back you up! And I resent that!” Polinsky glanced behind them and then smoothed the lapels of his navy blue suit coat. “Out of respect for Jude’s mother, I suggest we take this conversation elsewhere—”

  “Why? Mum’s presence might shine just the light we need!” Jude smiled at his approaching mother and held out his hands to her. But Dora ignored him.

  “And what might this flock of birds be pecking at?” she asked cheerfully. “Captain MacLeod has told me we’ll be going ashore before the sun sets, and I for one can’t wait to feel solid ground under my feet again.”

  “Yes, it has been a trip of…shifting emotions and shifty characters,” Rubio remarked. His hair blew around his face like chestnut flames while his dark eyes burned with his convictions. “Do you recall, Lady Darington, the stories ladies whispered at Lord Galsworthy’s ball? Of gems that had disappeared?”

  Dora’s eyebrows rose. “I heard that Meriweather Golding lost track of some emeralds her husband had given her, but Dorothea Biddle speculated that she’d sold them years ago, when she’d learned they were an appeasement after Mr. Golding took a mistress. I doubt the poor dear recalls what she did with them.”

  “Nevertheless, Mum, you should consider yourself warned,” Jude replied cautiously. “Palladino believes your new friend here made off with them!”

  Dora looked askance at Rubio and then at Maria. “We’re known by the company we keep, are we not?”

  “And Rubio’s also saying Jason’s not around Charleston, as Polinsky believes, but instead he’s—”

  “Who will you listen to, Pandora?” the older medium interrupted. “Palladino resents me because I have eclipsed his reign as London’s favored seer! This is his envy talking!”

  “We’ll see about that, won’t we?” Rubio jeered. “The proof is in the predictions!”

  “Gentlemen, please!” Maria shrugged out of her brother’s grasp, glaring at both of them. “We’ve had nothing but conflict for this entire voyage! Captain MacLeod is the man to settle this!”

  Off she stalked, her mind a-whirl with the need for peace…the need to be with Jason again. While it was lovely to hear Yosef Polinsky’s romantic sentiments, he had other motives for insisting she accompany him and Lady Darington when they went ashore.

  The ship rolled and she grabbed a support post to keep her feet. Some of the crewmen mopped puddles on the deck while others painted a section of rail: they smiled at her as she passed, but she saw none of the officers who might escort her to the captain. Perhaps if she went up to the wheelhouse….

  Maria halted on the first landing and clapped her hand over her mouth. Here indeed was one of the young officers who’d taken charge when Willie had escaped—a handsome swain with midnight hair and broad, strong shoulders. Eric O’Keefe, if she recalled correctly. But this time O’Keefe had captured Jemma Darington—or she had tempted him with her coy gazes? The couple had ducked into a shadowy nook, and as they kissed their sighs reminded Maria of what she’d been missing. Anyone could see these two had kissed many times before, the way they angled their mouths and noses in unison…the way his hand cupped the swell of her breast and she pressed herself into his palm.

  It was rude to stand here gawking at them, yet Maria watched every nuance, spellbound, until she recalled her mission. Better to separate these lovebirds before Jude or Lady Darington discovered them, wasn’t it? And because she’d caught them, perhaps O’Keefe would be more inclined to take her to the captain, as a bid for her silence.

  But first she observed the tender yet commanding way Eric held Jemma’s neck, to assert his power…to tilt her lips so he could deepen the kiss, leading her into the next phase of this amorous dance. Jemma’s hand slipped lower, as though it knew exactly where her pursuer would become her prey.

  Eric hunched when the devious blonde gripped his cock through his trousers. “Yes, yes…” he murmured, incoherent with need. “Turn him loose and give him release! Here, use my handkerchief to catch—”

  But Jemma pulled away with a sly smile. She’d deftly unfastened his fly, to fondle his erection out of his trousers. “If I sit on the stairs—take you in my mouth—my skirt won’t become rumpled.”

  “My God, girl, if someone walks up here—”

  “We’ll make it fast and furious. No one will know!”

  Maria pressed against the wall to remain out of sight. While she wanted to get Eric’s attention, perhaps this wasn’t the best time….

  Within a heartbeat, Jemma sat down and leaned forward to suck him. O’Keefe gripped her slender shoulders as she grasped his hips and drove her mouth up and down the solid column of his cock. Aside from being a wicked, titillating sight to behold, it was a startling revelation: Miss Darington was not the innocent she pretended to be! Had she acquired such sexual skill with Quentin, the butler? Or was she more accomplished—more brazen—than her mother and brothers assumed?

  Her blond hair shimmied with the rhythm of her thrusts as her full lips squeezed and released. Up and down she went, with urgent accuracy. Concentrating fully, with her eyes closed, Jemma looked more focused than Maria had ever seen her; more sophisticated than her childish behavior suggested when she plied what she wanted from her family. As Maria watched, her own heat flickered. Her body trembled with unmet needs, driven to an extreme by this illicit spying! If anyone came down from the level above, she would appear as decadent as the lovers she watched.

  It didn’t stop her, though. The ache between her legs intensified when Eric grimaced: he was beyond caring if anyone caught them. Maria squeezed her inner muscles to quiet the intense throbbing there, yet when O’Keefe let out a desperate groan she, too, needed the relief he sought.

  Maria stuck her hands in her skirt pockets. Her fingertips found the open seam of her drawers…then the warm, fleshy folds that needed fondling while she tightened her inner muscles. One more glance at O’Keefe’s cock, now red and ready to burst forth, had her rocking in place, rubbing frantically. When the ebony-haired officer gasped and his hips danced crazily, she surged to her own release. Her spasms were so intense she fell against the wall, biting back a loud, lovely groan. She rested there a moment, her eyes closed so the inner tingling would last.

  I am lewd and crude, she thought. Yet she felt not one bit of remorse or shame. What harm had she done, after all? Her exertions had released
a great deal of the tension created by the two sparring mediums—

  “Miss Palladino, have you fallen ill?”

  Maria’s eyes flew open. Eric O’Keefe stood before her on the stairs, his eyes a-glimmer. Other than the heightened color in his cheeks, he looked completely recovered—and so genuinely concerned about her that she was momentarily speechless.

  How long had she been leaning against the wall with her eyes closed and her hands in her pockets? And what sort of expression had he seen on her face? “I—my stomach took a turn when the ship rolled a few moments ago,” she stammered. “But I’m fine, honestly!”

  “Yes, we all felt the force of a sudden wave,” Jemma remarked as she peered around him. “As though an underwater explosion had rocked the ship.”

  Maria straightened. This was no time to point a finger at this amorous couple, when they might have guessed the real reason for her odd position. “Mr. O’Keefe, I’d like to ask the captain about our destination, and I don’t know where to find him.” She smiled. Even though Miss Darington stood behind him, it felt nice to have a relative stranger looking so raptly at her.

  “I would be pleased to escort you, Miss Palladino. Captain MacLeod will soon be steering us into the harbor, so we should be on our way—if you’re certain you can climb these steep stairs.”

  And what if she couldn’t? Would this dashing young officer carry her up to the captain? Now there was a fantasy!

  “Oh, I’m fine. Truly.” She took the hand O’Keefe offered, and stepped up to his level on the landing. “I was pausing to be sure the dizziness had passed. No point in retching on the captain, is there?”

  Up they went, past Jemma, until they reached the enclosed wheelhouse, where the ship’s navigation took place. O’Keefe turned, squeezing her hand in the crook of his arm. “Shall we exchange favors?” he murmured. “I saw you while Miss Darington was…working her magic. It was your ecstatic expression that sent me over the brink, so I’m sure you understand my need for confidentiality. A lovely lady like yourself understands the difficulties—the deprivation we seamen face when we sail for months on end. Yet now we transport a cargo so much more attractive than textiles or spices or furnishings.”