My Gentleman Spy

by Sasha Cottman

  Hattie hastily packed up the rest of the food, stowing the plate and knife in one of the desk drawers. Will retreated to his makeshift bed on the floor and lay down.

  “When I said I wasn't a good sailor, what I meant was that I get a tad dizzy when the ship rolls up and down the waves. Silly for a grown man to suffer in such a way but there you have it,” he said.

  The ship gave a sudden, violent lurch, tossing Hattie back on to the bed. Before she could sit back up, a second wave hit the ship and forced her down again.

  As the ship finally righted itself on the downside of the next wave, she rolled over and put her head over the side of the bed to check on Will.

  He was rolled up in a ball in the corner, his hands were gripped tightly to his travel trunk. She muttered a word which would have had her mother turning red with embarrassment.

  The floor was a dangerous place for Will to be at the best of times. With the ship now beginning a rolling pitch up and down the giant waves, the floor was quickly becoming a deathtrap.

  “Will please, you need to come up onto the bed. If you stay on the floor you are going to be injured or worse,” she pleaded.

  He was no fool. Will scrambled to his feet, grabbed his blankets and was half way to the bed when the ship was hit by yet another wave and he was tossed back onto the floor. Will's head and the hard-wooden floor made sickening contact.

  “Merde!” he bellowed.

  Hattie clambered to her knees and put a leg over the side of the bed, but Will stopped her.

  “No, stay where you are. The last thing we need is for the both of us to go bouncing off the walls and floor of the cabin. I shall come to you.”

  Getting to his feet a second time, he launched himself at the bed, landing inelegantly beside Hattie with a loud “Ooof”.

  She checked his face and head for any signs of blood, relieved when it was clear Will had not cracked his head open.

  “When you have fallen from a horse as many times as I have you eventually realize that your head is a lot tougher than you think,” he said.

  Hattie moved across the bed and sat up with her back against the wall. Her feet were hard up against the side wall of the bed. Will did the same.

  As the boat continued to pitch and roll, it felt like they were riding an out of control carriage. Hattie’s stomach prayed for a set of reins with which to pull up the non-existent horses.

  “If this is an indication of the night ahead, something tells me we are not going to be getting any sleep,” Will said wearily.

  She looked at his face and saw he had closed his eyes. Dark lashes kissed the skin above his cheeks, but his face was ashen. Pity replaced much of the fear she was currently feeling. With the storm likely to continue unabated for hours, Will was facing a tortuous night.

  “If it's too difficult to sit up, then I suggest you lie down,” she said.

  “Yes,” he finally replied. The weakness of his voice giving a clear indication of the growing depth of his discomfort.

  With his large, masculine frame fully stretched out on the bed, Hattie was left with little option. She lay down on her side, her back facing toward his chest.

  “Your bed is nice and soft. The padding is much better than mine,” Will observed.

  “Close your eyes and hopefully that will help to keep your head from spinning,” she replied.

  The full force of the storm hit the ship a short while later. With it came driving rain. The cabin door rattled as the fearsome wind challenged its hold on the door frame. Fortunately, it held fast. The bucket on the floor was not so lucky.

  For the longest time Hattie lay awake, watching the bucket slide back and forth across the floor from door to bed and back again. When the ship encountered a larger set of waves the bucket was pushed all the way back hard against the side of the bed.

  She reached down and swiftly grabbed a hold of it. With the bucket now in her hand she had solved one problem. The next question was what to do with the bucket. Holding onto it for the rest of the night was not an option.

  There was a hook with a rope tie on the wall opposite, near the door. It must have been all of seven feet. She decided to risk it.

  She slid one leg over the side of the bed and slowly sat up. Turning, she looked at Will. He was fast asleep, a soft snore rippled from his lips.

  He really was a handsome specimen of a man. Her fingers ached to touch his hair. In his sleep it had become ruffled and a stray curl now sat on the edge of his fringe.

  Her gaze dropped to his lips. Lips which she knew to be soft and warm. Lips her heart desired to possess forever.

  “Oh, if only you weren't who you are and I wasn't who I am,” she whispered.

  She turned back to the task at hand. It was only a few steps to where the hook which would hold the bucket secure was nailed to the wall.

  After a short period of sitting and counting, she began to perceive the patterns of the waves. Twenty counts for the ship to lean to starboard, ten seconds of stillness, then a further count of twenty for the ship to lean back fully portside.

  As the ship began its next starboard lean, Hattie stood and with bucket in hand, quickly scrambled to the hook. By her reckoning she had fifteen counts to secure the bucket before she would need to be ready to make her way back.

  Nervous fingers hoisted the bucket onto the hook and wrapped the rope handle round and round, securing it firmly in place.

  She turned just as the ship set her staggering back toward the bed. She reached the bed and threw herself over the raised side. She had done it. The satisfaction of having achieved her goal, had her grinning.

  “Well done,” said a husky-throated Will.

  “I thought you were asleep,” she replied.

  “I was, but as soon as you left my side, I woke.”

  Will threw the blankets over them and then wrapped a strong arm around her waist.

  “Don’t try and leave the bed again unless you absolutely have to, the safest place for the both of us is right here. You should try and get some sleep,” he said.

  They were in the middle of a ferocious storm in the North Atlantic, on a ship which was riding up and down huge rolling waves. But, with Will beside her in the bed, Hattie felt safe for the first time in a very long time.

  As sleep finally took her, she slipped into a long warm dream of a man who always held her tight throughout the worst of life’s storms.

  When morning came, the storm had mostly blown out. Rain still lashed the decks. After a cursory view out the door, Hattie decided there was little purpose in venturing outside and she climbed back into bed.

  It was late morning before the deck was safe enough to venture out onto. The crew spent the best part of the morning checking the ropes and making repairs to the ship. Several crates of cargo had been swept overboard during the night and were lost at sea. Despite Hattie’s efforts to rouse him, she was unable to wake Will.

  “Sleep of the righteous,” she muttered.

  Only someone with a clear conscience could sleep that soundly. Finally accepting defeat, she put on Will's greatcoat and went in search of sustenance.

  The ship's cabin crew, which consisted of the cook and a young lad of about fourteen stood silently at one end of the galley table as Hattie ate her breakfast. The cook, who wore an apron which had seen cleaner days, roughly cleared his throat.

  “Would the young miss be wanting anything else?” he asked.

  Hattie looked up from her contemplation of her hard-boiled egg. Both cook and cabin boy shifted on their feet. It was like watching a pair of dancing pigeons. As one moved to his left, the other followed.

  “Yes, please. My fiancé is still abed. He had a terrible night. Could you please fix him some breakfast so I may take it back to our cabin?”

  While Hattie waited for Will’s breakfast to be cooked, she went and sat outside on the deck. Near the captain’s cabin she found a small solid bench which was mostly out of the wind.

  The sun was out and the storm cl
ouds of the previous night had gone. The contrast of stormy night to blue sky morning was astonishing. Apart from the weary looks on the faces of the crew, and several tattered sails blowing in the sea breeze there was little evidence that the ship had been through a tumultuous night.

  “Good morning.”

  She turned to see Will standing in the sunshine, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. His hair was tussled from him having slept so deeply. She was heartened to see the natural color had returned to his face.

  “You look a lot better than you did last night. Cook is making you some breakfast,” she replied.

  She looked at the blanket covering the warm masculine frame which she had slept against the night before and suddenly realized why he was wearing it.

  “Oh, I am so sorry, I forgot I took your coat,” she said.

  The cabin boy arrived carrying two mugs of coffee. Will’s face lit up.

  “Coffee the elixir of the gods.”

  Hattie laughed. “I thought ambrosia was the elixir of the gods.”

  Will shook his head. “Not in my world. My brain does not function until I have had a strong brew of coffee in the morning.”

  The cabin boy scurried off to tell the cook that the gentleman passenger was awake and ready to take his breakfast.

  Will sipped his coffee, watching as the boy disappeared back inside the galley.

  “You shouldn’t be out here alone. Remember what the captain said about not knowing his crew very well.”

  Hattie was on the verge of explaining to Will that she regularly walked the dangerous streets of London on her own, but decided against it. Memories of lying awake in the early hours of the morning while Will slept beside her were still warming her heart.

  “Sorry. I forgot. The captain has been up on deck most of the time I have been out here, and I haven’t wandered away from this vicinity. I won’t do it again,” she replied.

  The truth was, she was so used to being in the violent and unsafe streets of the Parish of St Giles that she had become somewhat indifferent to all but the most obvious signs of danger. After the fourth time she had been accosted and robbed on the street in the early days of their mission, she stopped bothering to tell her parents. Risk came with the territory of giving aid to the poor.

  “I just want to ensure that you get home safely to your uncle. I don’t mean to be overbearing. If we can agree that you don’t venture from the cabin without me, I will be content.”

  Hattie agreed. For what was only a matter of days, she was prepared to concede to as many of Will’s demands as she felt necessary. She told herself it was purely for the sake of ensuring they both enjoyed a cordial and pleasant journey home. Her heart however was beginning to beat to the sound of a different drum.

  With mugs of coffee in hand, they followed the cabin boy into the galley.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That night Will attempted to sleep on the floor of their cabin for a second time, but in the early hours, Hattie felt him slide in beside her. He wrapped his arm around her in a now familiar hold and from the gentle snores which soon arose from him, she knew he had fallen asleep.

  Hattie lay awake in the night. The moon which shone through the cabin window bathed the room in a soft pearl blue light.

  Eventually she lifted Will’s arm from around her and slipped out of bed. Putting his greatcoat on, she crossed to the bench by the window and sat down.

  In the bed, Will rolled over onto his other side, and slept on.

  She smiled as she watched him sleep. He was a magnificent specimen of a man. Whenever he wrapped his arms around her, she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach. The woman who eventually married him would have a wonderful husband.

  But Will Saunders was not for her. He was born and bred for the life of the ton. A world of wealth, fabulous parties, and self-centered people. That was the world she had left behind. Her life now had a purpose. Her work with the poor brought hope to people who otherwise had nothing.

  Will for all his kindness would never understand.

  When they returned to England they would go their separate ways. In time he would forget her. She knew however, she would never forget him. Never forget the first man who had held her heart.

  She turned and looked up at the moon. It was close to a full moon. The moon’s light shone on the white caps of the waves. They looked like tiny white lanterns dancing up and down in a never- ending bob.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  Will had crept silently from the bed and now came to sit beside her.

  “Just thinking,” she replied.

  “Of what?”

  The memory of standing on the gangplank of the Blade of Orion slipped into her mind. The emotion she felt before she took the leap into a new life, stirred once more.

  You were brave then. Why not now?

  She softly chortled and feeling her cheeks blush red, turned away. Will reached out and touching her face, drew her gaze back to him.

  “Of what, Hattie?”

  Her gaze fell on his lips. Those soft, warm lips which had captivated her when Will kissed her that first day in the town square.

  “Of what it would be like to be your lover.”

  She held her breath. Her gaze remained locked on his lips. She had been bold enough to say the words, but she was not possessed of the strength to meet his gaze.

  Will took hold of her hand and raising it to his lips, kissed it gently.

  “Do you realize what you are saying? I mean what being my lover would entail.”

  Hattie puffed out her cheeks. She had held onto the slim hope that this was one secret she would never be forced to reveal to him. But if she was to bring their relationship to the place she desired, she would have to be honest with Will when it came to sex.

  Hattie rose from the bench and bending over placed a tentative kiss on Will's lips. She had never taken the lead before in a sexual encounter with a man, but her heart called for her to take a chance. The worst he could do would be to say no.

  “Yes, I do understand. Will, I am not a virgin.”

  He returned the kiss.

  “I take it the reverend decided he was entitled to liberties being your fiancé and took them before you left London.”

  She nodded.

  She had been led to believe that love making was a beautiful thing between a man and a woman. She had seen the shared kisses and whispers between Edgar and Miranda in the months after they were wed. How Miranda’s eyes lit up whenever Edgar touched her.

  Girls at society balls had told her wonderful stories of secrets shared by their older married sisters of the joy of the marital bed. Of lusty husbands and moments of heady sexual pleasure.

  When Peter had come to her room the first night, she had expected it to be a magical encounter. Instead it had been painful and degrading. When she cried, Peter had ordered her to remain still and be quiet.

  His repeat visits had been just as horrid. She had submitted to him, but he had still used physical force to bend her to his sexual will.

  “I know it would be different with you. You would be kind.”

  Will brushed a hand on her cheek and cupped her face in his hands. He pulled Hattie to him and took her lips with his.

  Loving, tender lips touched hers. He was everything a young woman dreamed of in a man.

  His cologne was a heady mix of spice and masculine woody tones. She luxuriated in its welcoming scent.

  When Will speared his fingers through her hair, she felt heat race down her spine. His tongue slipped into her mouth. He teased and tempted her to respond. She returned his kiss with slow responsive strokes of her tongue.

  Will rose from the bench and pulled Hattie firmly against him. She felt the hardness of his manhood against the side of her hip. Emboldened by the effect she was having on him, she reached down and rubbed the outside of the placket of his trousers.

  Will groaned in appreciation.

  He deepened the kiss and she was with him. This was the pa
ssion and the connection she had so longed for with a man. Two souls connecting and sharing the quiet of the night together.

  He pulled away from the kiss and their gazes met.

  “Are you sure you want this? I will understand if you had a moment of rashness and are now having second thoughts.”

  There was no doubt whatsoever in her mind. She knew exactly what she wanted, and it involved Will exploring every inch of her body with his hands and his lips.

  “Yes. I am sure.”

  She caught the sigh in his breath. It would have been a most uncomfortable night for him if she had changed her mind.

  Will kissed her once more. His hands held her by the waist, while she gripped onto his strong muscular arms. In the cramped cabin their heated bodies began to warm up the small space.

  Though they had been sleeping in their clothes, Will was not wearing his jacket or cravat and under Will’s greatcoat Hattie was dressed only in her gown with a light cotton chemise underneath. She slipped her arms out of the greatcoat and lay it on the bench.

  Will made short work of the buttons on Hattie’s gown, before slipping it over her head and draping it over the nearby chair. When he reached for the ribbons on the front of her chemise, she gently slapped his eager fingers away.

  “Let me,” she said.

  She watched his eyes grow wide as she slowly, teasingly undid the bow and let the top of her chemise fall open. Her nipples puckered as they felt the kiss of the chilled night air.

  She had never been naked in front of a man before. Her previous encounters in the dark with Peter had been conducted with her dressed in a neck to ankle nightgown. She felt wanton and desirable.

  “Take off your shirt,” she commanded.

  She intended to be as equal a partner in this sexual engagement as she could. There would be no lying quietly in the bed praying for the encounter to be over. Her time with Will was limited, so she was going to enjoy every minute she could.

  Will bowed his acquiescence. “As you wish my lover,” he said.

  At the sight of his hair dusted chest she reached out and touched him. She giggled.