by Jenny Lykins
He strode across the deck, threw open the door in the bulkhead, then clattered down the steps. He paused at her door.
It was the middle of the night. How long had she been sleeping?
Long enough.
He raised his fist to knock, but the door flew open before his knuckles ever met wood. Shaelyn bounced off his chest with an “Ooph!”
“What the...? Alec! I was just coming to find you.”
Shaelyn’s mane of dark curls sprouted from her head at all angles. Her red-rimmed eyes looked as if she hadn’t slept in days.
Saint’s blood, she was beautiful.
She dragged him into the cabin and shut the door. Her ever-burning lamp glowed happily, but Alec noticed that the bunk looked as if a wrestling match had taken place there. He took a deep breath and turned to her.
“We need to talk,” they both blurted.
“You first,” they said in unison.
“No, go ahead.”
“Be my guest.” They managed yet again to speak at the same time.
Shaelyn gave him a pained smile, dropped into the chair, and wordlessly gestured for him to speak.
Now that he had the floor, he wasn’t quite certain how to proceed. How did one go about telling his wife he loved her? He’d never expected to have that problem. Should he give her a gentle speech beforehand? Take her in his arms and hold her? Drop to one knee and try to think of something poetic?
“Shaelyn...”
She looked up at him with dread in her eyes. He took a deep breath.
“I love you,” he exhaled.
Well, that was certainly one way to go about it.
The dread turned to a look of puzzlement, then realization, and then, much to his relief, elation. Before he even saw her move, she had her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him to the floor when their bodies met.
She pelted him with kisses on his face, his neck, his nose. When she settled on his mouth, the passion rocked him, weakening his knees, turning his brain to mush, coiling to burn in a part of him that wanted her as much as his mind did.
“Oh, Alec. I was so afraid. So afraid,” she murmured against his mouth. Suddenly she jerked back. “Wait a minute. What do you mean by, ‘I love you’?”
He stared at her. How could one misinterpret those words?
“I mean I love you and I want you to be my wife. Remain my wife. Blast it, you know what I mean.”
She cocked her head. “Regardless of where I’m from?”
“Yyyes.” He nodded slowly. This was not the topic he wanted to discuss right now. “Regardless.” Of where you say you’re from, he added silently.
She studied his eyes, then ever-so-gently took his face in her hands and covered his mouth with hers, her kiss so achingly sweet it rivaled the one before it in the havoc wreaked upon his body.
He pulled her even closer and dragged her down with him, pulling her across his lap as he sat in the chair before his knees gave out. She snuggled closer, wrapping her arms tighter, her lips never leaving his, and he wondered if he’d put himself in an even worse position.
She brought her kiss to a slow, reluctant end, then leaned back into his arms and looked at him, a new worry obviously nagging at her.
“What is it?” He tried to draw her back, but she held him off.
She searched his face, then glanced at her lap before looking back at him. Torment darkened her glorious green eyes and sent a shiver of fear to his gut. What if she told him she no longer loved him?
“Alec,” she began with a certain amount of dread. “Have you forgotten about Faith? I thought she was your first love.”
He sighed in relief. Thank you, God.
With more gentleness than he had used in a decade, he took her hand in his.
How could he tell her that he was not so fickle as to fall in and out of love so easily? He never wanted her to worry that his love could be swayed by a prettier face or a better offer, as if either could exist in this world. But he was not prone to flowery words and emotional speeches. He had cultivated neither, once he’d resigned himself to a marriage of his father’s choosing. However, he knew what he said to Shaelyn right now would set her at ease or forever leave her worrying.
“Shaelyn...” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “I did love Faith. I do love her.”
Shae closed her eyes and miserably shook her head. He kissed her on the tip of her nose, then tilted her chin until she looked at him again.
“But I love her as a friend. As a man with fond memories of his first love. My love for Faith...” He bowed his head and prayed for adequate words. “My love for Faith was a gentle breeze in my life. My love for you is a storm. A wild, seething Nor’easter that gets into your soul and lets you know you’re alive.”
The smile slowly came back to Shaelyn’s eyes, then she wrapped her arms around his neck and thoroughly kissed him, pulling him away from the back of the chair until they tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
“You’re insane,” he laughed while she giggled against his lips. Her response was to cling to him and roll across the floor until they reached the softness of the carpet. Of course, it was purely coincidental that he ended up atop her, pinning her to the floor.
He put his weight on his elbows and laughed down at her mischief, until their gazes turned serious. With infinite care, he lowered his head, brushing her lips once, and then again, and then settling against her willing mouth with a thrill he thought never to feel. This woman - his wife - loved him. That knowledge stole into his heart and started a sweet ache there that he hoped would never end.
Her kisses started an ache in other places.
He pulled her even closer as his tongue sought hers. She sighed in her throat, and that simple noise sent his heated blood crashing through him. Her hands wandered his back, stoking the fires that already raged.
“Shaelyn,” he whispered into her mouth, “I love you.” Did she hear the wonder in his voice?
Her fingers dug into his back. “Alec,” she sighed.
That one word said it all.
He rose onto his knees, his fingers working at the buttons on her shirt. She tore at his, sending his blood thundering in his ears. He leaned down on occasion to taste the sweetness of her kiss while their hands worked in a frenzy at the fastenings. The more stubborn the buttons, the more frantic the kiss. He trailed his lips down the column of her neck.
“Sweet mercy,” he groaned into the hollow of her throat, “to think I nearly lost you.”
He continued his lovemaking for several long seconds before he realized Shaelyn had stilled.
He raised up and stared down at her.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice hoarse with want. He tried to kiss her again but she gently, reluctantly pushed him away.
“We can’t do this, Alec. It isn’t right.”
He shook his head, trying to grasp the meaning of her words.
“Shae, we are married.” He went back to nibbling her throat. “Nothing could be more right. The time couldn’t be more right.”
With aching tenderness she pushed him away from her neck and held his face in her hands.
“And what about Faith?”
Faith. He had all but forgotten Faith. He shook his head to clear his mind so muddled by desire, but the smoldering want still clouded his thoughts. Until Shaelyn’s words threw cold water on them.
“Would you do this to Faith? Make me your wife before you settle things with her?”
Shaelyn nudged him away, then got to her feet, buttoning the shirt he had tried so hard to free. He couldn’t help the sound of protest that escaped his throat.
“Alec, she deserves that much.” Shaelyn’s gaze scanned the open expanse of his shirt, looking just as disappointed as he felt. “A few weeks ago I wouldn’t have given her a second thought. In fact, I’d be feeling darn smug right now, but Faith is everything you said she was. She’s a good person, and if our roles were reversed, I would want that much conside
ration.” She smiled down at him with just a hint of teasing. “You are not a man most women would choose to give up.”
Her words salved his sting of disappointment somewhat. And he had to admit, however grudgingly, that he did owe Faith the truth before he made Shaelyn his wife in every way.
He stifled a groan.
Shaelyn knelt beside him and pressed her lips to his. “I want this as badly as you do,” she whispered, running her palm beneath his shirt and across his chest. “But when we do this, I want nothing between us and our love. No regrets, no guilt. No nothing.”
Her warm hand skimming his chest and the literal image of “no nothing” between them had him swallowing back another groan. He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest.
“Very well,” he muttered.
When he stood, Shaelyn slid her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. She turned her face and kissed the bare skin there before looking up at him.
The woman had a talent for torture.
“Will you hold me the rest of the night?” she asked, pulling him toward the bunk. “After all, we are married.”
Oh yes, he groaned. Torture.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The sun had just burst over the horizon when Molly barreled through the front door of Windward Cottage, her skirts flying. Alec and Shaelyn had not even reined their horses to a stop.
“Welcome home!” she called, her eyes avid with curiosity. “Thank heavens you’re home. I’ve had the devil’s own time keeping Father at bay ever since Martin returned from the docks in an absolute…Shaelyn! What the devil are you wearing?”
Shaelyn looked down, then smiled at Molly’s half-scandalized, half-impressed tone.
“Jimmy’s trousers and Alec’s shirt. You should try it sometime.”
“She’ll do nothing of the sort!” Alec ordered. “Her language already bears tending. I’ll not send her home in britches.”
Shaelyn turned a teasing grin to the man she loved more than life itself.
“Well, she didn’t pick up that sort of language from me. Mine is much worse. And you’re just cranky, so stop your pouting.”
Alec narrowed his eyes at her, but she could see the amused glint in his golden brown gaze.
“I am not pouting.”
She winked at him. “Not for long, anyway.”
Molly watched their exchange with little-sisterly glee.
“Why are you cranky, Alec? Did something happen on the voyage?”
Alec swung from the livery horse, then slid Shaelyn from hers.
“I am not cranky, pest.” He hooked her neck with his arm and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “And nothing happened on the voyage. Absolutely nothing.” His glance lighted on Shaelyn only long enough to have her biting her tongue to keep from laughing.
“How’s Samuel?” she changed the subject, holding her breath to ask without giggling.
“Oh, he’s greatly improved. I daresay you’ll not recognize him, he looks so well.”
That was a relief. She hadn’t thought he would have a relapse without his daily therapy, but the possibility had nagged at her, nonetheless.
“Faith has been here every day. She has been a great help with Samuel, but I have had the devil’s own - ” she glanced at Alec, “I have been quite creative in explaining your absences. Shaelyn, you have had a nasty summer ague and remained at Harbor Mist so as not to expose us. Alec, you, of course, have been away on urgent business. Something vague about helping Griffin.” She gave them a smug smile. “Father has been given the same information, somewhat more loudly, however, as to be heard over his bellows.”
The fact that Faith had been there every day robbed Shaelyn of some of her playfulness. They had a confrontation ahead of them that she didn’t want to think about. Though Faith stood between her and Alec, Shaelyn truly liked the woman and hated to see her hurt. She never wanted to do to someone else what Aaron and Rachel had done to her.
Alec looked at Shaelyn at the mention of Faith. He winked and lifted his chin in an attempt to cheer her.
“Welcome back, sir.” Ned arrived from the direction of the stables. His curious gaze scanned the length of Shaelyn’s britches-clad body until his face turned the color of a brick.
“Thank you, Ned.” Alec handed the reins over to the coachman and herded Shaelyn and Molly into the house. Shaelyn smiled. It seemed Alec was beginning to take her wearing pants in stride.
“Sir!” Martin came rushing from the back of the house when they entered the foyer. Shaelyn had never seen the staid family retainer so flustered. “I trust…” he glanced at Molly, “…the problem with the delivery was resolved to your satisfaction?”
Alec slapped Martin on the shoulder. The butler stumbled forward several steps.
“Resolved to everyone’s satisfaction,” he declared. “And I won’t even hold it against you for allowing my wife to stow away on the ship.”
Martin drew in a deep breath, then affixed his usual long-suffering expression and simply muttered, “Yes, sir. But I do have broad shoulders, sir.”
Humor? From Mr. One Emotion?
“Thank you for escorting me to the docks, Martin,” Shaelyn offered in an attempt to appease any pride she may have wounded by beating him to the ship.
“It was my pleasure, ma - ” Martin’s gaze turned to her, then flickered over her attire without the slightest change of expression. “Ma’am,” he finished.
Well, well. She might liberate these men yet.
“If you’ll excuse me, sir, I shall order two more places set for breakfast.”
While Martin disappeared toward the kitchen, Alec took Shaelyn’s arm and steered her toward the stairs.
“And if you will excuse us, pest, I would like to freshen up. And I’m sure Shaelyn wants to change into something more appropriate.”
Shaelyn gave him an innocent smile and let him guide her up the steps.
“Don’t make any bets on that, bubba.”
*******
Shaelyn fluffed the skirts of the sky blue grosgrain morning gown. After days of loose pants and shirts and going barefoot on the ship, the yards of fabric felt as if they weighed twenty pounds, which, come to think of it, they very well might.
She’d decided not to try to liberate her husband all at once. No sense pushing her luck. Nor did she want to shock Samuel into a relapse by showing up in the sickroom in trousers.
She stood outside his room and knocked, then pushed open the door at his, “Come in.”
Nothing could have prepared her for the sight that met her.
Samuel sat outside on the balcony next to an open French door. He wore gray pin-striped slacks, starched shirt and collar, and the very proper gray coat. His wheat-colored hair sparkled in the sunlight, a heart-lurching contrast to the healthy bronze tan of his handsome face.
“Wow!” Shaelyn strolled through the diamond-paned doors. “You do know how to recover, don’t you?” The last time she’d seen him, he’d looked like something out of an Anne Rice book; pale as a vampire who hadn’t fed in a couple of nights, and just as weak.
He smiled and colored just a bit.
“I have had good nursing. I fear I would have died if not for the care I received here.”
Shaelyn waved away his gratitude. “I just got lucky, that’s all.”
“I’m glad you’re feeling better yourself. Miss Hawthorne said you’ve been ill. I worried that I’d infected you with my illness.”
Shaelyn thought of her week long “illness” and had to force herself not to smile.
“Oh, no. Just a bad cold. We Loo-siana girls ah just so delicate.” She fanned herself and tried to look the part. Samuel’s laugh turned into a cough.
After fetching him a tumbler of water and patting him gently, they settled into a nice little chat until Margaret brought him his breakfast tray.
“Faith…Mrs. Baldwin…insists I rest in the morning. What she doesn’t know is that I take a little walk before breakfast.”
She made sure Samuel wanted for nothing before rushing to the dining room. She arrived in time to bounce off Alec’s chest as he opened the doors in search of her. His arms caught her and pulled her back against him, holding her there like a pair of steel bands.
“Are you quite all right, my dear?” he asked with teasing formality.
She rested her head against his shoulder and snuggled closer.
“I am now.”
Images of how he’d held her during the night flashed through her mind and sent an exquisite, aching heat curling through her blood.
He brushed a kiss across the top of her head and whispered, “I imagine the pest is enjoying the show.”
Shaelyn stretched upward and peered over Alec’s shoulder. Sure enough, Molly watched with a smile that rivaled the Cheshire cat’s. She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers at Shae.
Martin’s arrival in the dining room broke up any more mushy stuff. Alec escorted Shaelyn to the table and seated her while Martin served the breakfast. Molly draped her napkin across her lap and watched them as if waiting for them to answer a question.
“What?” Shaelyn finally asked when she could no longer stand the staring.
“Well, are you not going to tell me what happened?” Molly said. “For it is very clear that something happened. Where did you go? Why were you on the ship? Did you share a cabin?”
“Molly!” Alec bellowed. The girl didn’t even flinch.
Shaelyn looked at Alec, and his one cursory glance told her that Molly knew nothing of his “activities.”
“Well, you are married,” Molly reminded him with a roll of her eyes.
“This is not proper conversation for a girl of your age, young lady. The very idea of - OW!”
Shaelyn hadn’t meant to kick his shin quite so hard.
“Stop being such a big brother, Alec. We went to Baltimore, Molly,” Shaelyn lied. “And I was on the ship because they weighed anchor and we were too far out to sea to turn back by the time we realized it. And as for sharing a cabin, I can answer that in one word.” She ignored Alec’s strangled choke and leaned conspiratorially toward her sister-in-law. “Seasick.”
