A Ravishing Night With The Mysterious Earl (Steamy Historical Regency)

by Olivia Bennet

  Entering the Captain’s quarters, she found him already waiting at the table, with two glasses of wine sitting ready upon the worn surface. She smiled contentedly, as she set the tray down and sat opposite him, meeting his gaze. He could not stop looking at her, and the sight of those golden eyes made her heart beat faster. Ordinarily, such intensity might have unsettled her, but she found she enjoyed Simon’s attention.

  “How was your day?” He pushed the glass of wine towards her.

  She chuckled. “There were far too many turnips, though you will likely discover that when you eat this evening’s stew.”

  “I am sure it will be delicious.”

  She took a sip of her wine, letting it warm her. “And how was your day?”

  He groaned. “I have been drowning in inventories, though things are much improved now that you are here.” He smiled at her. “Are you certain I cannot make arrangements for you, so you no longer have to work in those ghastly kitchens? I feel awful, allowing you to work there, knowing what I know.”

  “I rather enjoy it,” she replied. “There is a sense of peace to be found in the routine of it, and I should hate to leave Ben without assistance. He has been extremely good to me since I arrived here, and I would like to repay him however I may. If that requires peeling endless vegetables, then so be it.”

  “You are a remarkable young lady, do you know that?”

  She stared shyly into her wine. “You flatter me.”

  “No, I speak the truth. I have never encountered anyone like you before. I suppose it is why I did not think such ladies could exist, for you are an anomaly of wondrous proportions. I thank my stars that you were brought to me, though I abhor the circumstances you were placed in.”

  She looked back up, feeling joy spread across her chest. “And yet, I would not change them, for I would not be here if anything had been different.”

  “I have been thinking about what we might do upon our eventual return to England,” he said quietly. “I know you must be worried about it, but I wish to assure you that you have nothing to fear. I will protect you there, as I am protecting you now. If this gentleman to whom you were betrothed attempts to harm you, or speak with you, or touch you, he will have me to contend with.”

  Jemima looked away, struck by a sudden realization. She had not truly planned much beyond boarding a ship and sailing away from England. She had supposed she might find a town in some foreign country and begin her new life there.

  But now…she was not so sure. If she wanted to stay at his side, then she would have to return to England at some point. And step back into the wolf’s jaws…

  “Would I be able to remain on board, when the Evening Star returned to a port in England?” Her tone carried a tremor.

  Simon nodded. “Of course. I would ensure that you were not seen, and that nobody knew of your arrival.” He reached across the table to hold her hand. “I will keep you safe from harm, I promise you. All I desire is your security, and I will do all I can to conceal you.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “There is nothing to thank me for. I care for you, Jemima. I adore you, and I…feel as though I am falling in love with you. I have never been in love before, but I sense it is something like this.” He smiled nervously. “I do not expect those feelings to be reciprocated, but I feel compelled towards absolute honesty.”

  Her heart soared. “I feel as though I am falling in love with you, too, though I am likely even less experienced in such matters as you.”

  He chuckled. “Then it is fortunate that we have found one another, so that we may educate ourselves together.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it softly, the brush of his mouth against her skin sending a frisson of excitement through her body. She had missed the touch of his lips, for it had been a few days since they had embraced in her bedchamber.

  Their eyes connected in an intense gaze, his hand still holding hers. An unspoken sentiment drifted between them, as Simon stood and led Jemima towards his bedchamber. She followed him willingly, her nerves jittering excitedly. There was so much she still did not know, and she was determined not to give herself to him until there was a possibility of marriage.

  However, she could not deny how fervently she desired him, if only within their limits.

  * * *

  Simon closed the door behind them and cupped Jemima’s face in his hands, gazing deep into her unusual, sapphire eyes. He brushed his thumb across the apple blush of her cheek and remembered how that same thumb had brought her untold pleasure, a few nights previously. Her lips parted slightly as she looked at him, as though she was sharing in the same memory. It prompted him to draw his fingertips across the smooth contours of her mouth, delighting in their soft plumpness.

  “Where have you been, Jemima?” he murmured. “I never thought I would find you.”

  She smiled, her eyes glittering. “I have been waiting…waiting for you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips, delighting in the way she responded. The way she pulled herself closer, her body fitting his as though they had been made for one another—he did not think he would ever tire of it. He had been emboldened the other night, driven by the relief of learning the truth. And so, he had behaved in a rather improper manner. He did not regret his actions, for he had brought Jemima pleasure, but he knew it could have ended very differently. He refused to put her at risk of dishonor, or an unexpected child, even if it meant they had to rein in both their impulses.

  However, he could not resist scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the edge of the bed. There, he sat her down and knelt before her. She smiled at him with an expression of nervous anticipation, as he dipped his head and kissed the flat of her thigh, whilst he ran his hand up her shapely calf.

  “What if Brockmire calls upon you?” Jemima said, her voice catching in her throat.

  “He will not. He is still resting, upon the physician’s orders,” he assured, bending to kiss her opposite thigh. It still seemed strange to him, to see her in gentleman’s clothes, now that he knew she was not one. Although, he did not mind so much. There was a freedom to her movements that she would not have had, if she had been restricted by the trappings of female fashion. In a way, he preferred it, for it meant she was comfortable.

  Gently, he continued to kiss his way up the length of her thigh, before reaching the curve of her stomach. Lifting the edge of her shirt, he kissed her bare skin, smiling as he felt her shiver beneath his touch. Rising up, he pressed her back onto the bed and kissed her full on the mouth, his tongue dancing with hers as she pulled him closer by the lapels of his waistcoat. Already, he could feel himself stirring, though he was determined to ignore his own arousal.

  It can come to no good here. It did not matter how much he desired to feel himself within her, such a thing could not come to pass. Not unless, by the grace of God, they found a way to be married. Only then would he allow himself that pleasure.

  He thought about asking James to marry them, as soon as possible. Being a ship’s Captain gave him certain legal authorities where that was concerned, but that would mean revealing her true identity to him. Simon would not put her in that position, not when she had taken such pains to keep the truth secret. He trusted James, but he did not believe that Jemima would agree to taking such a risky move. It would have to wait, despite his desires.

  Letting his hand smooth across the curves of her waist, his palm found its way to her firm, supple breast. Even beneath the bandages, he could feel the pleasant rise of it. Kissing the edges of those bandages, he picked her up in one swift move and set her back down in his lap, maneuvering himself onto the edge of the bed. Looking up into her eyes, and feeling her hands in his hair, he reached behind her and found the knot that held her bandages together.

  Kissing along her collarbone, he unpicked the tight knot, eager to free her from their constraint. All the while, she moved her hips in a slow rhythm, creating a delicious friction against the length of his me
mber. His teeth grazed his bottom lip as he struggled against the intoxicating sensation. It would have been so easy to remove her trousers, and sink into her warm heat, but he could not. He would not. Not yet.

  Instead, he continued to focus on the knot, loosening the ends until the came undone. He was about to unwind the long strips of fabric, when the door to Simon’s bedchamber suddenly opened. Immediately, he turned Jemima away from the door, blocking her figure with his own body. Glancing back over his shoulder, his eyes widened as he saw a figure standing there, looking equally as shocked.

  Chapter 27

  “My Lord?” James McMorrow gaped at Simon from the doorway, his eyes darting between the two figures upon the bed. Jemima had buried her face into Simon’s chest, to hide her face. But it was too late for that. Simon knew his friend had seen everything, if only by the look of horror on his face.

  “Wait outside. I will be with you shortly,” Simon replied curtly. “Do not go beyond my quarters, do you understand?”

  James nodded. “As you wish, My Lord.”

  He backed out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving Simon to hold Jemima tightly. She was shaking violently, her eyes watering with abject terror. Carefully, he tilted her chin up, making her look at him. He knew she was likely worried, but he had sworn to protect her, and he meant that with all his heart. Even if that meant protecting her from his dearest friend.

  “I will resolve this, sweeting,” he murmured. “I promise, I will resolve this. Stay here, and I will speak with Captain McMorrow. Do not leave this room until I have returned.”

  She nodded frantically. “I will…I will stay here.”

  Leaving her on the edge of the bed, and wishing he could do more to comfort her, he crossed the room and exited. James stood a short distance away, with his back to Simon. Judging by his body language, Simon could tell that James wanted to run as fast and as far from the situation as possible. Although, Simon was glad he had not, for this required a great deal of explanation.

  “James…”

  His friend turned slowly, his eyes still wide. “What did I just see?”

  “Sit down, James. You must allow me to explain.” Simon gestured to the nearby armchairs. At first, he was not sure that James would comply, for he visibly hesitated. A moment later, James stalked towards one of them and sat down with a hefty thump.

  “I am all ears, Simon,” he replied, shaking his head.

  Trying to remain calm, Simon took the chair opposite. “Might I offer you some Port before I begin?”

  “Yes, I think that would be useful.”

  Simon poured two glasses, and handed one to James, who soundly downed the entire contents in one go. Undeterred, Simon refilled the glass and set the decanter back down. It gave him a much-needed pause, to collect his thoughts and decide how he was going to explain this to his friend.

  “No doubt you are dubious as to what you just saw?” he began tentatively.

  “You could say that, yes,” James shot back. “Was that Mr. Barton?”

  “In a manner of speaking, only it is not quite what you are thinking.” Simon took a nervous breath. “You see, Barton is not the person you believe he is. Indeed, he is not a ‘he’ at all.”

  James frowned. “What?”

  “She is Miss Barton. Miss Jemima Barton, to be exact,” he replied. “It would appear that she had some trouble back in England, which prompted her to run away, dressed in the guise of a young man. That is why Harry attacked her, because he discovered her secret and wanted to cause her harm. I did not find out her true identity very long ago, but I have sworn to protect her whilst she is aboard my ship, and beyond.”

  “Have you taken leave of your senses?” James gasped. “What is she running from? Is she a criminal? If she has lied so well, have you not contemplated the idea that she might be lying still?”

  In truth, he had, but she had given him no further reason to doubt her. Having been on the receiving end of countless matchmaking endeavors, and endless tirades about marrying this young lady and that young lady, he could comprehend the impulse that had made Jemima run from England. Moreover, the gentleman that she had run from sounded like a true brute, and that was all the explanation he needed.

  Simon shook his head. “She has told me the truth, I am certain of it. I will not relay the information she has given me, but it is cause enough for her to have absconded in desperation. I understand her reasoning, and I will not condemn her for it, because…well, because I am falling in love with her. I know this is unexpected, but it is the way of things, and I cannot change them, nor do I wish to.”

  James looked as though he might keel over. “You cannot be serious?”

  “I am deadly serious. I care for her, James. I cherish her. We have not known one another long, but I have never experienced emotions such as these,” he explained, trying to find the right words. “And that is why I will do whatever it takes to protect her. As such, I must be assured of your discretion. Nobody can know that she is who she is. We must maintain the ruse of her being Mr. Barton, for her sake and for her safety.”

  “Why? What is she running from?”

  Simon sighed heavily. “An unfortunate engagement, and a furious family who want nothing to do with her. She cannot go back to him, and she cannot go back to England.” He paused. “As my dear friend, I must implore you to keep this secret.”

  Please, James…

  James took a large gulp of his port. “Do you think it wise to engage in such improper behavior, if you care so deeply for her?” He seemed to be softening, though Simon could not be certain.

  “Perhaps not, but I long to be near her.”

  “There is a difference between being near a young lady and striving to take her maidenhood.”

  Simon scowled. “You will not speak so impertinently towards me, James. We are friends, but courtesy must be effected.” He took a calming breath. “I have no intention of taking Miss Barton’s maidenhood, not unless we are wed. I can see you do not approve of what you have just witnessed, but that does smart, somewhat, of hypocrisy. I have heard your tales of debauchery often enough, and I am not attempting debauchery. I truly care for her.”

  James arched a suspicious eyebrow at Simon. “You truly do?”

  “With all my heart.”

  “You love this young lady?”

  Simon nodded slowly. “I am falling for her, yes.”

  “She is not simply some concubine, that you are keeping here for your own benefit?”

  Simon swallowed his anger. “No, she is not. I may have kissed her, but I do not wish to dishonor her in any way. I mean it when I say that I adore her. I would not do anything that would cause her harm or bring risk into the equation.”

  A lengthy silence stretched between the two gentlemen, as James continued to sip his Port and stare at Simon in disbelief. As a matter of principle, Simon loathed tense silences, especially ones in which he felt judged. It had been extremely unfortunate that James had walked in on them whilst they were in the throes of passion, but that could not be altered now. All he could do was hope that James would remain loyal and keep their secret to himself.

  To Simon’s surprise, a small smile crept onto James’ lips. “So, you really are besotted with this stowaway?”

  Simon relaxed slightly. “I am, James. I have never known a young lady like her. In all my days, I had never thought to find someone whom I could even envision marrying. But her? She has changed so much, in such a short time, and I do not think I will ever be the same again. In the best possible way.”

  He had not admitted those things to himself, until that very moment. It had not been an overnight metamorphosis, but it had still taken him by surprise. After all, he had gone from being desperate to find a way to remove Jemima from the ship, to holding her in his arms, all in the space of a few short days. Now, he would not have had her leave, under any circumstances.

  “You are positively gushing with emotion, Simon. Surely, this Miss Barton must
be a witch of some kind, for she appears to have altered you entirely.” James chuckled, as he took a more leisurely sip of his drink. “I do not think I have ever seen you behave in this manner. Even when myself and the rest of the men have gone into the port towns, you have never joined us. Not once. And then I walk through your door and find you entangled. It is rather unsettling.”

  “You are teasing me,” Simon remarked.

  “Naturally. I must get all the jests I can out of this.”

  Simon eyed him. “But you will keep our secret?”

  “Of course I will, Simon. Upon pain of death.” He grinned. “I confess, I was shocked, but I am happy to see you so content. Although, you may have some explaining to do with your current wife.”