"Mighty fine vittles,” one of the guards complimented her.
With the pan clutched to her chest, Maire inclined her head. “I'm glad you like it,” she said.
"By the gods, what is that?” Jules demanded as he hopped up to take the pan from her. “Is that pork?"
"Aye, it is,” Guy answered, “and a stew fit for the Black Baron, himself."
Dek was at last sitting up with the blankets tucked carefully around his legs. His wound had been freshly dressed again and Jules had pronounced it healing as well as could be expected. Nevertheless, when Maire brought him a tin cup of the stew, he pretended to be too weak to hold the spoon from his mess kit.
"Liar,” Guy mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
"Do you want me to feed you, milord?” Maire inquired, with hands on hips.
"I'm feeling poorly, tarrishagh. Fragile as a newborn sparrow,” Dek said as he put a hand to his heart. “Would you?"
"Be careful how you spoil him, Maire,” Guy warned. He sat beside Jules to have his own supper. “He's been known to take advantage of a lady's generosity."
"Those days are o'er. There will be no other woman save Maire for me from this day forward,” Dek pledged. “I swear it on the throne of Tarryn."
Immediate silence settled over the room as every eye went to Maire. Even the prisoners seemed shocked by the vow.
"Milord,” Maire whispered. “Do not say such things!"
"'Tis true,” Dek said then raised his voice. “Let every man jack here know—I have claimed this woman as my Cochianglt and when I am able to divorce the Baroness Ynez, I will ask Maire to be my lawful bride."
A shocked gasp ran through those gathered. Such declarations were not made before the common soldiers. The doings of the royalty was carried out behind closed doors with councils and lawgivers in attendance. Not until the town crier announced the news was it known by anyone outside the court.
Jules and Guy had guessed already what Dek was planning so neither commented on the pronouncement. Instead, they silently ate their food while striving not to glance at one another.
"Milord, please,” Maire said, imploring him with her eyes. “We said we would not speak of this until after you are free."
"I want there to be no misunderstandings in their minds, tarrishagh,” he said. “My intentions toward you are honorable."
"We know that, Dek,” Jules said quietly. “There is no need to mention it again."
"Aye,” Guy concurred though he, like Jules, kept his attention on the tin cup in his hand.
"Does that mean you haven't laid a hand to our countrywoman?” one of the prisoners demanded. “That you haven't ravished her already?"
Maire swung her head toward the speaker. Her eyes bored into the man with heat. “Nay, he did not ravish me!"
"But has he had you?” the man persisted.
"You want to lose your tongue, Spivy?” Jules asked in a menacing tone and then swiveled his head to pin the man with a flint-hard glower. “Do not ever impugn this lady's honor again. Are we clear?"
"I honor the lady, Spivy,” Dek said. “I would never do anything from this day on to cause her shame."
Spivy's gaze shifted to Maire who held his stare without blinking and then he nodded slowly. “My apologies, milady,” he said, seemingly satisfied by the answer, though he kept his eyes on her.
"They'll wonder how you could come to cherish her so deeply in so short a time,” Guy said quietly. He took a bite of biscuit. “They do not have our customs."
"Our men will explain it to them,” Jules said then clarified his words. “What it means to be a Cochianglt, for they will surely ask."
"Love at first sight is not something most of them will understand,” Dek said, “but that is surely what happened."
Maire gave him a surprised look. She hoped only the two of them knew the truth behind it all. She knew both Jules and Guy knew there had been intimacy between them at some long ago point, but she did not think Dek would have told them what Reese Fontyne had done.
"Love, milord?” she queried.
"Aye, milady. It is love and has been since that first night. Why else do you think I would have searched the world over for you?” he answered. When she looked away, he reminded her that the cup of stew in her hand was growing cold.
Maire dipped the spoon into the cup and ladled out a large chunk of pork. She brought it to his lips then smiled when he sighed with pleasure as he chewed the tender, succulent meat. Insisting he have another cup when that one was finished, she sat propped against the wall as the fire popped and the wind howled outside in the eaves and ate her own portion, taking small bites of biscuit in between spoonfuls of the stew.
When two men got up to replace the guards at the cottage, Maire noticed Dek was sleeping, his chin on his chest. She motioned for Jules and Guy to ease him down onto the pallet, so he would be more comfortable. He mumbled as he was scooted down, but he did not wake. By the time she reclined a foot or so from him, he was lightly snoring.
Smiling to herself, Maire closed her eyes and joined him in slumber.
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Chapter Six
"Here we are again,” he said, reaching for her hand to draw her to him. “How do you like this place?"
Maire was astounded at the beauty of the waterfall before her. She'd never known such vivid dreaming in all her life. Everything seemed so real, so true, and when she stretched out her hand to touch the satiny surface of a vibrant green leaf, she could feel its texture, just as she could feel Dek's warm fingers lacing through hers.
"Where are we?” she asked.
"Montyne Cay,” he replied. “A place I found in a dream long ago.” He swept his free hand in a wide arc before them. “As far as the eye can see there is nothing but pristine beauty. We are alone on this island paradise."
Jewel-colored butterflies flitted among the lush emerald foliage, winging about with breathtakingly beautiful birds of every hue of the rainbow. Reddish brown monkeys with sweeping tails swung from vine to vine above them in the high canopy of the densely growing trees—chattering to one another as they played. Scented of jasmine and gardenia, honeysuckle and sweetshrub, the air was moist and warm, a light breeze playing over the lovers with a gentle caress that brought with it a touch of the mist from the cascading waters. Feeding into a sparkling lake, the waterfall soared high above, its tumbling waters sparkling in the tropical sun as it splashed. The sound was a pleasant roar in the background.
"Beautiful,” she said as Dek led her to the bank of the lake where a blanket had been spread.
"Not as beautiful as you,” he said, helping her to sit.
She leaned against him, inhaling the wondrous scents wafting around her.
"Do you swim?"
"Aye,” she said. “I...."
The sudden entrance into the water with Dek floating on his back beside her made her laugh. She was as naked as the day she'd been born—as was he—and the cool waves sweeping around her bare breasts were soothing as she treaded water.
"There is a cave behind the water,” he told her and flipped over.
She watched his sure, powerful strokes as he cut through the waves like a dolphin. He plunged—his bare ass showing above the water as he dove beneath the surface. Jackknifing her body, she set out after him, sliding under the falling waters where he had disappeared.
"Oh!” she whispered as she took in the shimmering walls of the cave into which she swam. Thousands of candles in brass sconces lit the murky interior where milky green stalactites and stalagmites dripped and soared in profusion from a boxwork ceiling. Around her the waters were a deep celadon green color.
Dek was sitting on a wide expanse of pearly sand that swept back from the waters to form a bank. Legs bent at the knees and crossed in front of him, he had his arms wrapped around them so his manhood was hidden from her view as she waded onto the bank.
"This is unreal,” she said as she knelt beside him.
"I
dream it and it becomes real,” he said. He leaned back until he was stretched out beside her, opening his arms to her. “Just as real as the loving I am about to give you."
It was a dream, she thought. Only a dream and in dreams all things were possible. She turned, moved over him, her body covering his like a blanket as he enfolded her into his arms. One long leg hooked over hers at the bend of her knee.
Idly his fingers fanned up and down her back until she relaxed atop him. Her lower body lay wedged between his legs and he crooked one knee to better accommodate their closeness. He placed a soft kiss on her brow.
"What kind of flowers do you want to grow around your cottage, tarrishagh?” he asked. “Anything can grow in Tarryn."
She drew in a long breath, remembering the scent of sweetshrub moving through the jungle.
"Sweetshrub, sweet banana shrub, honeysuckle, lilac, lavender, and jasmine,” she said wistfully. “Wisteria, Mimosa, magnolia and gardenia."
"And what kinds of fruit trees?” His hand drifted down between them to caress her breast.
"Mango and orange, tangerine and fig,” she said, naming the tropical fruits she had discovered as a child. “Pear, plum, nectarine, peach, and apricot.” She lifted her head. “I could make and sell jams and jellies and preserves, too, if I had blueberry and gooseberry, raspberry, blackberry, cherry...."
Dek laughed, his thumb sweeping wickedly over her hardening peak. “When will you have time for me if you have all those fruits to pick and process?"
She smiled as she splayed her hand over the thick mat of hair on his chest. “I will always make time for you, milord,” she answered.
He moved his hand to cup her chin, gazing into her beautiful eyes. “Is that a promise?” he asked in a husky tone.
It's just a dream she reminded herself and lowered her lips to his, boldly thrusting her tongue past his parted lips to taste the sweet warmth of his mouth. She felt his cock leap, sending a clench through her womb. The heat of their bodies soared and with it the passion that deepened her kiss until she was grinding her mouth—and groin—against him.
Growling deep in his throat he snaked his arms around her to hold her savagely to him. He rolled to his side until he was lying above her, using his knees to spread her legs apart. Molding his mouth to hers, their tongues mating, he slid a hand between them to take hold of his shaft.
Maire gloried in the feel of his firm thrust into her body. He took possession of her, branded her, and claimed her in that one, sure stroke. She clung to him—burying her head against his shoulder—as he rocked their bodies together forcefully. He stretched her, filled her, pressed deep within her aching sheath until he could go no farther. The very tip of him seemed to touch her womb and the thought made her body spasm.
"Deklyn!” she cried as wave after wave of pure delight rushed through her.
He was pumping hard with the first squeeze of her inner muscles. The sound of their bodies meeting seemed to spur him on. In between fierce grunts, he rammed into her with such speed, such power she thought she would pass out from the sensation.
On and on her orgasm went until she felt him spilling into her. A ragged cry of exultation echoed through the cave as he came. She stared up at him as he dropped his head back—the cords standing out in his neck as he strained to pour every last ounce of himself into her body.
Mine, she thought as she stared at the width of his powerful shoulders, the muscles flexing in his broad chest as he strained over her. She could see the wild tattoo of his heartbeat thundering in the vein running the length of his throat. His breathing was labored when he lowered his head and his eyes met hers.
So handsome. So virile. So completely male. He was everything any woman could want, and he was hers.
"All yours,” he said, looking deep into her soul. “Always yours."
Maire slid her palms up his arms and drew him down to her, his head to her breast, fingers in his hair. Stroking the black locks from his damp forehead, she loved the feel of his weight pressing her down.
"I love you,” he said, warm breath fanning over her.
"Aye, milord. I believe you do,” she said as she came to the undeniable realization that she was falling in love with him as well. Her arms constricted around him protectively.
"We're going to be together, tarrishagh,” he said.
"We'll see."
Here in this magical place he had conjured for the two of them, for now, things were as she had always wanted them to be. She had a man who loved her, craved her, and would die to protect her. She was his treasure and his delight, his all. Nothing and no one else in the world mattered. At least for this short span of precious time, life could be sweet and loving. There would be time aplenty for the real world to intrude. For now, she had all she needed in the body of the Black Baron of Drogh-gheay.
* * * *
The harbor was blocked a mile from shore with a line of Tarryn warships and the docks crowded with their country's vessels. The first sight Maire had of the Tarryn flagship that would be taking her to her new life widened her eyes in awe. It was the largest ship she'd ever seen in the Norvus harbor. It was jet black from ratline to keel, from mast to sheeting, from stem to stern. In the glare of the harsh winter day, against the backdrop of the gray ocean littered with floating islands of ice, it was a sight to behold. On the black teakwood decks, black-clad sailors in heavy wool coats were making ready for departure, the noise of their laughter making it clear they were happy to be going home. In the crow's nest, a young boy called down a welcome to Jules.
"Get your scrawny ass down from there, Seannie!” Jules shouted up to the boy. “Now!"
"His son,” Guy mumbled to Maire. “One of five."
Maire turned her surprised gaze to Jules. She would not have pegged him as a family man.
"All from different women,” Guy added as he helped her from the travois. “Not a wife among them."
"What of you, Guy?” she asked. “Do you have a son aboard this beautiful ship?"
Guy shook his head. “I'm careful where and when I sow my seed, lass. Five nephews and three nieces are enough for me."
"A potent man is our Jules,” Dek said. He winced for Rupert and Strom were removing the ropes that had secured him to the travois and must have disturbed his wound. He held up a hand before Maire could inquire. “Just a twinge, tarrishagh. Nothing more."
"Captain Yn Zell has your cabin all ready for you,” Guy told his overlaird, “so don't be thinking you're going to be up and at the helm as is your custom when we leave a port."
Maire looked down at Dek. “You are a multi-talented man, are you not, milord?"
"He's a showoff,” Jules grumbled, waving Strom and Rupert to hurry with their task. “And it pisses Yn Zell off when he commandeers the man's ship and risks staving in the hull as he's taking her out to sea."
Dek sniffed. “Not much chance of that happening. Besides, it's my ship and if I want to sail her, I can.” The Baron held out his hand to take Maire's. “I christened her the Céirseach,” He told her as she walked beside the litter upon which Strom and Rupert were carrying him up the gangplank. “It means blackbird in Tarryn."
"It is a very impressive ship, milord,” she said, looking about her as they came aboard. She was aware of the furtive looks she was getting but none of the eyes inspecting her were filled with anger or suspicion. It was curiosity coming her way as every sailor flicked a glance to her now and again.
"You will be having the cabin Jules and I normally share,” Guy said and when she would have protested, he shook his head. “There's no argument, lass. We have grown accustomed to the hard ground during this latest campaign so a hammock slung between two beams will seem like heaven to us."
"That is a surety,” Jules agreed. His rigid face broke into a grin as the lad from the crow's nest came running toward him. Reaching out, he gave the boy a quick embrace then tousled his windblown red hair. “You been toeing the line, son?"
The young boy nodded eagerly
, puffing out his scrawny chest. “Cap'n says I'm the best cabin boy he's had since he's been sailing the nine seas."
"Um,” Jules drawled. He took the slim shoulders of the lad between his huge hands and turned him, so he was facing Maire. “This is Lady Maire. You be on your very best behavior when you're around her. You catch my drift, boy?"
Seannie tucked one arm at his waist and the other at his back and bowed very elegantly, very maturely to Maire. “At your service, milady,” he said in a deeper voice than he'd used in speaking to his father.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sean,” Maire said, holding out her hand. She was surprised when the boy took it and very expertly gave it a respectful kiss.
"The pleasure is all mine, milady,” he replied in a grave tone. Releasing her hand, he stepped back. He jabbed a thumb to his chest. “Whatever you need, I'm your man."
"What she needs is a nice hot bath,” Dek said. “Think you can take care of that, Seannie?"
"Aye, Your Grace!” the boy said.
"We'll take your things to the cabin, milady,” Andy said.
"Thank you, Andy,” Maire said.
Strom and Rupert had reached the hatchway and were maneuvering themselves into position to carry the litter down the steep steps. The strain of carrying their overlaird was beginning to show on their broad faces. They were breathing heavily as they made their way carefully down the steps.
"I'm sorry, men,” Dek apologized.
"Don't mention it, milord,” Rupert said. “You'd do the same for us if it was needed."
Maire followed behind, holding up the hem of the great cape to keep from stepping on it as she descended the ladder. Her thoughts were on the loyalty of the Baron's men and how he'd been respectfully greeted with the doffing of watch caps or bowing as he'd been carried past. None of the sailors had spoken to him unless first spoken to by their overlaird but they all had ready smiles for him and looks of concern in their gazes. She wondered how many commanders of her country's militia and navy could say the same of his men. From her stint in the field hospital, she knew the count would be low.
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