by Pride, Mia
“Katherine?” Thomas asked? “My wee sister?” Katherine almost gasped as she stared at the woman who Thomas had believed her to be only a few days ago. Could she be a greater fool?
“Aye,” she nodded with a smile. “I am glad to finally meet my elder brother… and my new sister.”
“Aye, this is your true sister, Thomas. Not an imposter,” Grace said, raising a brow at Katherine, only adding to her misery. With every passing moment, she knew one thing for certain: Thomas’s family would never accept her. They truly hated her, not only for her blood but for her foolish actions. Thomas had been honorable to marry her, but in the end, she would have to be the honorable one and let him go.
As she watched him embrace his sister and mother while arguing with his grandmother, she felt like an outsider and she knew that was all she would ever be. He was strong, handsome, fierce and unpredictable, all qualities she loved. But, she had to steel herself, here and now, from any affection that she thought existed between them. It was clear he saw her as a burden to take on and nothing more.
“I came to tell ye that yer ship is ready,” Grace grunted.
“So soon?” Thomas asked, looking over his shoulder at Katherine. “I had hoped to allow Katherine to heal for a day.”
“When the Pirate Queen of Ireland demands her crew to assemble, they assemble with haste, lad. I suggest ye do the same. Yer… wife… can heal at sea. I will see ye once ye have the treasure and not a day sooner, ye ken?”
“Ye are leaving so soon? But, I only just found ye!” His mother wailed and clung to him.
“I will return soon enough, mother. Then, we shall have more time.” With a kiss for his mother, a hug for his sister, and a scowl for his grandmother, he left the room, leaving Katherine feeling more lonely than ever before, surrounded by his family who would prefer her dead. She was trapped between two worlds and neither seemed to want her.
* * *
Thomas cursed to himself as he stormed down the steps of the inn in nothing but his cursed breeches. Katherine could hardly move, had no dress, and he had used his only tunic to bind her ribs. They needed food, garments, and a miracle. In the light of day, he still understood why taking her as his wife had been necessary to protect her, but what had he been thinking when he softened to her? He could not keep her. She was a Bingham, for Christ’s sake! What was he to do with her?
His family would never accept her as one of their own and he could never go back to England. Likely Captain William had already informed the queen of whatever rubbish he decided to spew to save his own arse. And his queen, who so detested the Irish and Scottish pirates… any pirate that did not work for her… would easily believe the lies and call him a traitor. Once Bingham informed the queen that Thomas had stolen his daughter, that would only seal his fate. Unless… nay. He had no reason to return to England, so there was no reason to appease his queen, even if his honor demanded she know the truth. He was the descendant of pirates, aye, but he was a knight, damn it all! He may have been rough and aye, he had stolen a lass from her own home to defile her, but had he not made the honorable decision to make her his wife?
Only now, he had no idea what to blasted do with her. Suddenly, Katherine Bingham felt like more of an obligation than anything. Here he was seeking out food and clothing for the lass instead of commanding his bloody ship.
“I need two meals sent up to my rooms and a bath for my wife,” he groused to the first serving wench he saw. Her wide brown gaze took in his bare chest before she sent him a salacious smile. Aye, he could use a good toss in the sheets, but he had a wife to meet those needs now… a wife he knew he should not touch if he meant to give her up once all this was over. His poor bollocks would simply need to suffer for now. “We will need a dress for my wife as well… and a tunic for myself.”
With a raised brow, the serving lass chuckled. “Wild wedding night, aye?”
“Ye could say that, aye,” he murmured, and ran a hand through his hair before stomping back up the stairs.
“Food, a bath, and garments are on their way,” he said to Katherine without looking her in the eye. He felt like a bloody bastard. Aye, her father was a monster who abused her, and he could not be sorry for saving her from that. Still, his original intention rankled, pricking at his pride. In the end, he had done just what he meant to do. She would be considered ruined. No doubt her father had already read the damned letter. Mayhap he needed to get Katherine safely back to England after all of this. She could live with her sister and stepmother. It was a fair plan if only he would be allowed back onto English soil.
“I would ask ye all to leave me and my wife, so we may eat and clean up before our journey.” His grandmother nodded at him and he saw affection in her hardened eyes, but he knew she would not show it in front of others.
“Be safe, Tomás. Ye will need to seek help from the Scots if ye plan to search their shores for the treasure, and the Devils of the Deep dinnae help for nothin’, even if ye are kin. Ye will need to seek Niall out at their stronghold, Castle Dheomhan, on the Isle of Scarba. Offer him a cut of the treasure, if ye need. They are allies of ours, but even allies require payment.”
“Aye. My thanks. I will find it. We will return.”
His family began to file out the door, but his grandmother stopped once more and looked at him. “’Tis ill luck to sail a ship without a name, lad. What shall ye name it?”
Confused, he shook his head. “’Tis not my ship to name.”
“Considerate it a…” she looked from Thomas to Katherine, then back. “A wedding gift. I do not agree with yer choice in a bride, but ye are family and I would see ye have something to yer name. What shall ye name her, then?”
Overcome with gratitude, Thomas swallowed hard, vowing that he would earn the honor of captaining this ship. He would not live in the shadow of his family. He would show the world that Thomas Esmonde had the blood of sailors. He would leave a mark on this land, one that proved to the world that his family may be pirates, but they use their influence to help their people.
“I shall name her… The Morrígan.”
With a smile, his grandmother tipped her wide-brimmed hat. “The crow of war and fate, yet protector of the land. How fitting for an O’Malley ship. May the gods be with ye, lad.”
She left just as the tub was brought up, followed by two meals and some fresh garments. He had no idea where the clothing had come from, but it did not matter. They were needed, and he would make sure to leave extra coin for the service, especially since, by the look of the worn green dress and the neckline he was certain would be too small to contain Katherine’s ample bosom, it had belonged to one of the serving lasses. She could use the coin to buy a new dress. He also silently promised to get his wife her own garments as soon as possible.
Once the servants finished filling the tub with steaming hot water, they were finally alone. Thomas walked over to Katherine. “We must bathe. I cannot say how long we will be at sea, or if we shall be able to find safe ports to rest at. Consider this yer one chance to get clean.”
She was silent for a moment, so he looked over at her, tamping down his irritation. He wished to be off. His wife would slow them down with her need for modesty.
“Devil’s bollock, woman! Ye are my wife. I have seen ye bared… somewhat.” She still looked from him to the tub, chewing her lip nervously. “Do ye need assistance? If yer ribs ache overmuch, I can help ye into the water.”
“Ye dinnae want me for yer wife, do ye? Yer family hates me.”
“What I want no longer matters, love. I made the decision to marry ye, to keep ye safe, and I shall honor that. What I need, is to be on that ship. My crew awaits. So ye need to bathe, or I am going to climb in and dirty the water first.”
Something lit up in her eyes, though she tried to hide it. Having no more patience, Thomas unbuttoned his breeches and pulled them down with one swift motion. She gasped at his brazen move, and he stood naked before her, his wife, not caring a jot what she though
t of his body… until her eyes wandered down his chest and locked on his cock. Hells bells. His body responded instantly, and he watched her cheeks pinken as he grew hard before her.
He wanted her so badly, wanted to bury himself in her heat. Instead, he turned, giving her a view of his backside, and climbed into the tub. Katherine stayed silent the entire time he bathed, lathering up the soap on a linen cloth, then rinsing himself off before dunking his head beneath the water. The heat felt divine on his sore muscles, loosening them and making his cock pulse even harder. Thoughts of Katherine’s erotic book flooded his mind. He knew the lass was interested in the ways of love, but she was too injured for him to do anything about it.
Getting out of the bath, he stood in the water, facing away from Katherine so she did not need to glare at his erection again. It only made him ache for what could not be.
Wrapping a linen towel around himself, he walked over to his new wife, who lay flat on the bed, covered up to her neck with blankets. “Katherine. Do ye wish me to leave so ye can bathe? I do not need to be here.”
Licking her lower lip, she furrowed her brow. “’Tis not that. I would like to bathe, but I do not think I can sit in the tub. It will hurt my ribs too much.”
“But ye do wish to bathe?” he asked, unsure of what she needed or wanted and slightly annoyed by the further delay. She nodded slowly and looked away. Then it dawned on him what she really wanted, yet was too shy to say. “Ye want… me to bathe ye, then?”
Her blue eyes locked on him and her blonde hair sprawled across the bed. “Can ye? I cannot do it myself. I shall be brave. Ye are my husband, after all. Even if ye dinnae want me.”
He groaned. He wanted her more than he should, more than she knew. “Fine. All right,” he croaked. He could do this. He had seen many lassies fully naked, even bathed a few himself. He could do this and not lose his head. “Can ye walk?”
“Aye, I am sore, but I can move about. ‘Tis only the bending of my upper body that hurts like the devil and using my left arm where my father struck me.” Her words made him take a deep breath and he silently vowed once more to kill her father.
He put a hand out to her and she groaned as she shifted to lift her body. Before she could do anymore, he slipped his hands behind her back, hoisting her up to a standing position with his arms around her waist. Guiding her tenderly over to the tub, he put his hands on her shoulders and slowly pushed down her nightdress, just as he had the night before. Her skin was warm and creamy like fresh milk and as soft as silk. Once more, her beautiful breasts stood proudly before him, puckering at the onslaught of cold. Trying to avoid contact, he kept his gaze locked on her eyes as the rest of the garment slipped down her waist, over her hips and puddled on the floor.
A large bruise on her right thigh caught his attention and he frowned. No wonder she walked like a wounded animal. He looked at her but decided to say nothing. She did not need further reminders of her father’s abuse. Her delicate hand rested in his as he helped her to stand in the tub, then he turned to grab the citrus-scented soap and the same linen rag he had used for himself. It was not ideal, but this was Clew Bay, a pirate stronghold, not some fancy London inn. Watching the linen lather in his hands, he felt his heart beat wildly, knowing he would have to look up at her body sooner or later.
And then, he did. All the air left his lungs as if he had been kicked in the gut by a horse. Most of her abdomen was covered by the linen wrap, but her small tapered waist and curvy hips were damned perfection. She was young, much younger than he usually preferred, yet her eagerness and curiosity mixed with her innocence drove him mad with need.
The apex between her legs was covered with dark blonde hair, hiding her treasure from his gaze. What he would not do to plunder that treasure, to slip his tongue into her folds and give her the first taste of love she would ever have while tasting of her honey at the same time. Christ. Looking down, he only just now realized he still had a linen towel wrapped around his waist, and an erection so painful he was certain his bollocks were turning blue. He would need this linen to dry her off… which meant he would need to get naked once more.
Clearing his throat, he focused on the bandage around her ribs. “I need to remove this so it does not get wet,” he murmured, reaching over to untie the ends. Her skin smelled sweet and he inhaled deeply. Once it was removed and he could see all of her bared before him, those pert breasts and her enticing belly button, he took a deep breath and picked up the frothy linen square, dipping in the water before rubbing it on her shoulders. Shoulders were a safe place to start. He did his best to focus on just that part of her body. If he could do that, he may survive the mess he had gotten himself into.
He had to remind himself that he did not plan to keep her, so he must control himself. Locking his jaw, he focused on the soapy water… the soapy water running down her shoulders toward her breasts. As one droplet ran the length of the top curve of her breast, he watched with anticipation to see if it would reach her nipple. Gooseflesh sprinkled Katherine’s skin just as the droplet ran over the tip of her breast, clinging to the tempting flesh just before dropping back into the warm water below. He stifled a groan and continued to move the linen in small circles across her back and hips, avoiding her breasts as best as he could. Dipping the linen back into the water, he then grazed it across her ribs carefully, over the yellowish bruise. “It looks to be healing,” he murmured.
“Aye. I do believe it is not broken, after all. It hurts but feels much better than yesterday.”
“Good. That is good,” he whispered as he washed her flat stomach. His hand was so close to her core. He was running out of safe places to touch her. What next, her backside? Her thighs? Her woman’s folds? That made him groan in earnest and Katherine looked at him with hooded eyes. Aye, she knew he was fighting to stay calm. He wondered if she could have bathed herself and if this was not some ploy to get him to crack. It was working.
“Can ye… wash yer own… the rest of ye?”
“I can wash with my right hand, aye. I just cannae bend over to get more water.”
Dipping the linen once more in the water, he handed her the cloth and turned, knowing she was washing her nether area. His resolve was waning. She was already ruined. He could not bed the lass, but could he not touch her? She wanted it; he knew she did. Had this not been part of his plot all along? To tempt her into his bed? Somehow, she was the one tempting him to no end.
“Thomas? Am I… not attractive to ye?”
Spinning on his heels, he looked her up and down and shook his head. “Lass. Ye should not be asking me questions like that unless ye want real answers. I am quickly losing control of myself.”
“I do want real answers,” she persisted. “I want to know if ye are at least attracted to me. I ken ye dinnae want me as a wife. I ken ye only said the vows to protect me. But can ye not at least look at me?”
This was all his fault. He had taken her for one purpose only and now that he had her, he was avoiding that very thing. Her questions were not helping. Steeling himself, he knew what he had to do to keep her away from him long enough to get her to England. “Nay. I prefer the body of a woman, not a wee lass.”
Her sharp intake of air let him know that his words, although untrue for she was as beautiful, more beautiful, than any woman he had ever known, had done what they needed to do. He hated to be a bastard to her, but if she believed he was no longer interested in ruining her, mayhap she would stay the hell away from him before he did something he could not take back, such as stealing her innocence or worse, planting his seed. Nay, he could not mix Bingham and O’Malley blood, as tempting as the thought was.
Pulling the linen from his waist, he tossed it to her carelessly, then turned away to dress. “Meet me downstairs as soon as ye are dressed,” he commanded, without looking at her. “I do not appreciate yer petty games of seduction. They willnae work on me.” He slammed the door, leaving the lass to dry and get dressed. She was injured aye, but not as badly as they ha
d believed. She would be on a ship with pirates as the crew, sailing the seas for treasure. She would need to learn to handle a wee bit of pain. He was an arse, he knew, but there was no other way to get through this. He had to stay focused on the task at hand and forget about this woman he had made vows to the night before. Somehow, he truly did feel like more of a pirate than a knight, yet he knew he was doing the right thing… the honorable thing, even if she could not understand it.
Chapter Nine
Katherine sat on the edge of the bed inside Thomas’s captain’s quarters. Since leaving Clew Bay, they had been at sea for four days and he had hardly spoken to her, nor had he come to bed any day, preferring to sleep on deck with his crew. He claimed it was his duty as captain to be ready in case an enemy vessel should be spotted, but Katherine was quite certain he was avoiding her. After all, he made it clear he was not attracted to her, although he had told her once before that she was beautiful, and she knew he enjoyed kissing her. So why had he suddenly pulled away? Was her body too thin? Or was it the blood that ran through her veins?
Restlessness ate away at her. Aside from the one erotic book Thomas so persistently brought along, she had no entertainment, and she could not very well be caught looking at those images, should someone walk in on her. They also piqued her curiosity and made her want for things from the man who refused to so much as look at her.
The only bit of information he had given her was that they sailed for Scotland, specifically, Dheomhan Castle. She shivered at the thought. How was she suddenly bound to this man who teetered on the line between chivalrous knight and dastardly pirate? He was taking her to a place crawling with thieves and murderers. She had learned that at least the men working for Grace helped to support Ireland, but even they had their own pockets lined with gold. Thomas may not have stolen any treasure from merchants yet, but he had stolen her away from her home and then abandoned her to a life of loneliness. She was used to being lonely, but was that to be her fate?
