He was magnificent today, clad in buckskin breeches and a shirt of fine lawn, open at the neck. His boots were polished to a high sheen and he was clean-shaven. But his expression was bland, matter-of-fact. Not the expression of a lover.
“I was hoping you were awake. I brought you some hot water to wash.” He set the bucket down near the cupboard with the bowl, dampened a cloth, and held it up. “You will need this after last night.”
Aware of a stickiness between her legs, Sorina threw the cover over her head in embarrassment. Good heavens, he wasn’t planning to remain while she bathed, was he? She stuck her hand out of the covers, and managed a muffled thank you.
He sighed as he thrust a damp cloth in her hands. Curling her fingers around it, she closed her eyes as the cover was gently drawn down to her neck.
“Open your eyes and look at me, Sorina.” His voice was gentle and she obeyed, feeling heat rise along her chest and neck up into her face. His expression was serious, his blue eyes searching hers. “What we shared last night was special. I confess, I lost control and did not intend to go so far. But what’s done is done, and we must share this cabin for another night, maybe more. I hope you are not having regrets this morning, but if you are, I assure you I will respect your wishes and not let it happen again.”
Regrets? She had no regrets. As she stared into his serious face, she was certain that what she felt last night and this morning would be what she felt a year from now and ten years after that. She loved him . . . as surely as the sky was blue. But did he love her? No words of endearment had been spoken in the night.
She remained silent.
“I’m sure you want privacy while you wash and dress.” His hand toyed with a strand of her hair. “I will leave you now and return in an hour. We need to have a talk then. I’ll bring you some tea and see what there might be to eat. I told the Captain we would be dining with him tonight, but you needed your rest and would stay in the cabin today.”
She nodded and while he didn’t smile, he reached over to tweak her nose before he left.
The sea was restless today. The hull rocked back and forth as she lay in the bunk, the cloth turning cool in her hand. What did he mean when he said they had to talk? Had there been a change in plans? Was the ship not stopping in Santa Barbara? The longer they stayed together, the harder it would be when they parted.
Madre de Dios, what have I done?
She had created a situation that would surely end in a broken heart, but would she have done anything differently? No. She wanted this, she wanted him. Without Grainger, she would at least have her memories.
She raised up and untangled her ruined nightdress. Spots of blood stained the rough sheet underneath her. Her hair was loose and tangled. What a mess she must be. Getting up, she was aware of soreness between her legs, but after a quick wash, she felt much better. The water in the bucket was still warm and a bar of soap had been in the trunk with the clothes. It smelled of roses and left a light scent on her body.
Refreshed, she put on the underclothes she had worn the day before and took a muslin dress of pale blue from the trunk. A row of tiny pearl buttons fastened in front. Thank God she could manage them by herself. She must learn to dress without Grainger’s help. She slipped it over her head. The length was right, but like the traveling dress, the waist was loose but the bodice was low and tight.
Where did he get these clothes? She would ask him when he returned.
Feeling much better, she sat on the edge of the bed and considered her situation. She had wanted to experience what happens between a man and a woman, and while losing her virginity was momentarily painful, the rest was glorious. Grainger had obviously enjoyed it, too. And yet he apologized for losing control.
Again, the languid feeling crept over her. She’d not been herself in the dark hours of the morning. She’d been someone else, a wild creature full of strange needs and cravings, with no inhibitions. And certainly no remorse. She wanted him to touch her again, to feel his lips on her body. Heat suffused her cheeks as she thought about the feelings that throbbed and surged as he suckled and licked in all those secret places.
Oh God, I want to feel it all again.
Footsteps stopped in the passageway outside the door.
“Come in.”
Grainger entered, followed by a rough sailor holding a tray with a samovar and plate of biscuits.
“This is Ivan. He has been assigned to serve us during the voyage,” Grainger said. The sailor put down the tray on the only chair in the room and departed with the used wash water.
Sorina poured two cups of tea and passed one to Grainger, who sat on the floor, his back to the wall.
The tea was presweetened and tasted of oranges and some spice that Sorina couldn’t place. It was hot, as were the plain rolls. She was hungry, and used the food to avoid conversation. But his proximity was causing odd little flutters in her body that had nothing to do with food.
“I hope this is enough for you. Their larder seems a bit sparse, but I’m told they are not provisioning again until Santa Barbara, declining to pay the higher prices charged in San Pedro.”
“Then we can be sure they are stopping there?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“No.” He set down his empty cup and focused on a small bug climbing the wall above the door.
“What is it then?”
“It’s about last night.”
Sorina filled her lungs with air and slowly blew out, setting her teacup back on the tray. Without looking at Grainger, she leaned forward and examined the remaining roll, as if its size and texture was important.
“Must you do that?”
“What?” Startled, she looked up into his eyes. His lashes swept his tanned cheeks as his lips parted. The sounds of his breathing filled the small space. His eyes widened and he stared at her chest.
“Lean over. When you lean forward, you nearly spill out of your bodice and it . . . it is very distracting.”
“The dress is too tight.”
“I see that.” He got to his knees and reached across the chair, the fingers of one hand skimmed the tops of her breasts where they met the edge of the neckline. Sorina closed her eyes. His touch was light and seductive. His fingers slipped into her cleavage, then out again as they traced their way across the front of the dress. “Yes, the dress is definitely too tight.”
His voice sounded hoarse and Sorina sat back on the bed, her hands stretching and clenching in the bedclothes. She wanted him to unbutton her bodice and fill his hands with her breasts. She wanted him to raise her skirt above her knees and reach into the slit of her pantaloons and stroke her secret place that was growing damp with anticipation. She wanted him to sit on the bed next to her, take her into his arms, and kiss her until she melted in a puddle of sensation.
Instead he moved away and sat back against the wall, staring at her with a hungry look while the front of his pants bulged in defiance.
She couldn’t let this pass, she was aching, and he was sitting there, biting his lip. Emboldened by the feelings that engulfed her, Sorina left the edge of the bed and knelt in front of Grainger on the floor.
“Do you want me?”
“God, yes.”
“Then take me.”
She lifted her skirts and straddled him, holding his head while she leaned forward to kiss him, her fingers reaching back to sift through his hair. He held her hard against him, his hands sliding beneath her skirts and under her shift to cup her buttocks through her pantaloons, positioning her body over his cock. He groaned and his shoulders trembled as she deepened the kiss and rubbed against the hard ridge beneath his pants.
“We can’t do this, Sorina.” He whispered in her ear, but the whisper ended with soft kisses behind her ear and d
own her neck. He freed his hands, unbuttoned the bodice, and untied the front of her shift, freeing her breasts into his hands. He kissed one, then the other. Sorina reached below to unbutton his breeches and rub his cock. She stroked its silky length, wanting to feel it inside her.
“Lance, please.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head, clenching his teeth. “You are a vixen, you know that?” He moved sideways, until he slid to the floor. She raised up on her knees over him and guided his cock into the slit of her pantaloons, rubbing its hardness against her moist opening. A sudden heat shot through her as she sat down on him slowly, letting him fill her inch by inch, until she could take no more. His breath came in gasps as she raised up slowly, then back down again, finding a rhythm. The delicious friction sent waves of heat through her body. As she leaned forward, he raised up to suckle a breast as she rocked her hips, the tension building in her core. He held her hips as he groaned and shuddered, a warm flood filling her as she tensed and sweet release washed over her.
Falling forward she lay on him, breathing hard. They had crossed yet another line, one that she would always remember in all the lonely nights to come. How would she survive without this man who had cared for her, shielded her . . . put his very career on line for her. And yet she would have to do it. He’d told her his mission in life was to prove that he was not his father. She wasn’t sure what that meant, but assumed it meant he wanted to give many years to his country. Once she was safely with her uncle, he would walk away.
And because she cared about him—loved him—she would let him.
Sorina rolled to her side, laying alongside Grainger on the hard cabin sole. She cushioned her head on his shoulder, content and fulfilled, someone who had begun this journey as a spoiled, sheltered girl and was now a woman.
“As I started to say earlier . . .”
She smiled at his words. She wanted to close her eyes until the incredible tingling stopped, the feeling that told her every nerve in her body was alive. “That’s right, you were about to tell me something important.”
“Even more important now.”
He sounded serious, tortured even. She pulled away and rested her head on her hand, running her free hand over his chest.
“And what is that?”
“We have to get married.”
Chapter 28
We have to get married?
It was not what Sorina expected. Nor was it what she wanted to hear. Married? Where were the words that should have come first? Where was the expression of love? Did he say, “I cannot live without you” and she didn’t hear it?
This is wrong . . . all wrong.
She looked away and then got up. If they were to have this conversation she needed to be comfortable and she could not be touching him.
“Do you mind? I need to use the chamber pot.”
“Of course.” He righted himself and stood. “I’ll be right outside.”
“Why don’t we go out to the deck and find a private spot to talk there.”
“If you wish. The wind is building, but it is still safe.”
He left and she performed her ablutions, tidied her dress and reached into the trunk for her paisley shawl. Fastening it with her mother’s brooch, she tied her hair back with a ribbon and searched for her bonnet. She needed time to think. This pronouncement of Grainger’s had caught her off guard.
She took a deep breath and marched out to the deck. Grainger leaned on the port rail, facing west. The wind blew froth across the surface of the sea and the ship listed to starboard, but still moved smartly through the water. A storm was coming. It matched her mood.
Stepping carefully toward the rail, she reached out until her fingers grasped it, careful to adjust her stance to give her better stability. It would be easy to hold onto Grainger, but they were on the high side of the ship. No danger of falling into the water. Besides, she had important questions of her own. Her future happiness depended on his answers.
“Why do we have to marry?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the whistling wind. She glanced left and right. No one was in sight.
“It should be obvious, Sorina. You might be with child. In your society, that would be a disaster.”
“And that is the only reason?” Why was she persisting? He had already answered.
Because I want him to say the words. I know he feels something. Why can’t he tell me?
“I am an honorable man, Sorina. My father was not. I will do my duty.” His eyes were now fixed on the distant shore. A frown marred his handsome features. “I compromised you, a lady of good breeding. And I did so without keeping your virginity intact. I will marry you in Santa Barbara. You will be under my protection and will not have to find your uncle.”
“And I have no say in the matter?”
He faced her then, his lips unsmiling. “Of course you do, but you are a bright girl. You surely see the wisdom of this action.”
Well isn’t this the devil’s own dilemma.
She could assure him she would not be encinta. It was near her time and Isabella had explained that women did not usually conceive then. But something else was driving this conversation, the part about duty and honor. If he had said anything about love, she might consider it, even if it meant throwing away all of her plans, all the preparations she’d made, her independence, and the school she wanted to open. She would consider it if he’d said, “I love you.”
He had not.
A cloud drifted over the sun, and a stool skittered past them on the deck, pushed by the building wind. Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “I need to think about this. I will let you know when we reach port.”
“What’s to think about? Can you not see this is the honorable thing to do?” He stroked her cheek with his fingers. She drew back.
There was that word again. Honorable.
Fie on it!
Anger simmered under her skin, making her words catch in her throat. If she’d been a child, she would have thrown something. But she wasn’t a child, she was a woman. He’d seen to that.
And while she longed for a life with this man who was intelligent and caring, who made the blood sing in her veins, she would never marry without love. Her culture believed in arranged marriages. She’d witnessed many unions where respect and affection were the only bonds. In time the man strayed. It had not been the case for her parents, who loved each other to distraction. If she could not marry for love, then she would not marry at all.
Surely he loves me.
She had to be certain. In her inexperience, she could be mistaking lust for love.
Why don’t you just ask him?
Brazen she might be, but her courage failed her in this. She swallowed hard, and put a false smile on her face. “I find I am fatigued. If you don’t mind, I will go to the cabin and rest. Wake me if I fall asleep, so I will have time to prepare for the captain’s dinner.”
“You will think about what I said.” He lifted her hand and warmed it in both of his, looking directly into her eyes.
“Of course. I will give it all the consideration it deserves.”
~ ~ ~
Grainger watched her until she opened the door to the stairs and disappeared.
What a coil.
He was shocked when the proposal came out of his mouth, almost of its own free will. He’d been thinking it, but when he realized he actually said it, he was annoyed with himself. And yet it was true. He had not kept his promise to himself. He’d planned to spill his seed outside of her body. But when her legs tightened and her hips moved in slow undulating circles, drawing him deeper and tighter, he lost his mind with the pleasure of it, giving in to a feeling so intense he was sure he’d never felt anything like it before and would not feel it again.
Until it happened again this morning.<
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Marriage is the only possible conclusion to this dilemma. It is the right thing to do.
Sorina was an educated woman with a logical mind. Surely, she would make the right decision. Consequences could come of their union and she must not be exposed to shame and derision. Their actions had already put her beyond the pale, but they could keep up the pretense of propriety as long as they were among strangers. So far, they had been lucky.
And it wasn’t that Sorina would not make a good wife. She was beautiful and accomplished and had been trained to manage a large household with numerous servants. The problem was, the life he could give her would not be as grand as the life she had before. He could be away at sea for months at a time. How long before she became bored and resented him for robbing her of her dreams? Given their actions, it was a chance he had to take. The risks for her were too great.
She hadn’t said no.
And she would be in my bed every night.
He smiled as he remembered her boldness this morning, her lush breasts spilling out of her bodice and the feel of her hand as she guided him into her moist folds. He was growing hard again, just thinking about it.
Was all his talk about honor and duty coming from his cock? No. He truly cared for the girl. In fact, he might even . . .
The ship heeled sharply. Grainger lost his footing and skidded into the side of a row of water barrels, tied firmly on deck.
“Go below, sir. The wind has picked up. We must make sails smaller.” It was the first mate who spoke rough English. He scurried past toward the rear of the ship.
Grainger righted himself and staggered toward the door. A crack sounded above his head. A piece of the spreader fell to the deck, not a foot from where he had been standing. The door was blocked. He headed for the stern.
Shadow of the Fox Page 19
