by Dayna Quince
“I certainly hope not.” He smiled.
Olivia closed her eyes against the sight. It was too much to bear now. She could never look at him again and not be acutely aware of how much pleasure he could bring her. The joy of feeling his body beside hers, against hers, and passionately aroused. When they parted ways after this voyage, she would never be able to see him again. It made her profoundly sad.
Just then, the chicken hopped onto the bed and made some rather aggressive noises.
“Is that chicken growling?” Olivia asked.
“She’s displeased with the light in here. She wants to go to bed.”
“I can sympathize.” Olivia sighed and closed her eyes. She was suddenly exhausted. Her body felt heavy and limp.
“Here.” Colton pulled her up and began to remove her dress.
“What are you doing?” Olivia grumbled.
“Putting you to bed.”
He got the dress over her hips and pulled it down her legs. He tossed it on the floor and pulled the blanket from underneath her to cover her. He stood and turned down the lamps, dousing the room in shadows. There was scant light from the moon, the storm clouds obscuring its luminescence. Olivia could see the silhouette of Colton as she curled onto her side and nestled into his pillows.
She wondered if he’d leave her here alone again, tarnishing could become a beautiful memory of their first intimacies together. He took off his boots and shirt and her heart exploded with relief and joy. He climbed in beside her and took her in his arms. Olivia sank into his embrace and closed her eyes, holding his arm across her middle and silently swearing to never let go.
Chapter 9
When Olivia awoke the next morning, there were many more sounds to be heard. Colton was gone and so was the chicken, but she knew without a doubt that he had been there all night with her, holding her. From the large windows, she could see a dock and workmen busily moving crates back and forth. She jumped out of bed and quickly donned clean undergarments and dress. Returning to sit and watch all the commotion, she barely noticed when Willy entered and brought her some breakfast.
“May I have some fresh water and a bowl?” she asked before he slipped away.
“Certainly. I hope you were able to sleep well, m’lady. The storm tossed us a fair bit and rained a river down on us. Might ye be wanting a bath?”
Olivia turned to face him. “Is that possible?” She smiled with delight. She had not washed her hair since the evening before stowing away on the ship. A bath sounded like pure heaven.
“I can make it happen for you.” Willy tucked his thumbs in his pockets cockily.
“Only if it isn't too much trouble, and the water isn't needed for the rest of the crew, and—”
“The cap'n has already left the ship, but Mr. Timms said it would be all right.”
“Then I would greatly appreciate a bath, Willy.” Olivia sighed as he left and snuggled under the blanket. She could still feel the heavy sated feeling in her bones, but she was even more confused today. He said he would only kiss her and then...
Her cheeks flooded with heat. That was so much more than kissing, and he said so many wonderful things like wanting and needing her. He was so impassioned and absorbed in the moment that it had to be more than just lust.
Didn’t it?
Perhaps she was being naive again. Perhaps that’s just how it was between any man and woman. It made her feel a little sick to think that Colton could be that way with any other woman.
Willy came back with a hipbath and assured her that the water was heating in the galley. Then he returned carrying pail after pail of steaming water. Soon the bath was filled, and Willy returned with two more buckets. “Mr. Timms say you need extra for your hair.” Willy gestured to Olivia's wild mass of curls.
“You are my hero, Willy, and Mr. Timms is correct. I wonder how he knows so much about women?”
The boy beamed under her flattery. “I don't rightly know. He used to be a vicar, but now he is first mate. I think he knows everything.”
“He must indeed.” Olivia chuckled at the boy’s exuberance.
“I'll let you get to it then. Just ring for me when you're ready to be rid of the tub.”
“Thank you, Willy.”
Left alone, Olivia undressed and sank into the blissfully hot water. How quickly she had forgotten the simple joy of bathing in a tub rather than a simple cleansing with a cloth and basin. It was heaven.
She washed quickly before the water cooled, her hair taking the longest. After toweling herself dry and dressing, she returned to the windows to watch the busy dock and brush out her hair. The sky was gray and dreary, the water murky and brown with floating debris crowding around the pilings. Everything her eyes touched upon looked filthy.
She hoped Devon could be found soon and prayed that he was safe.
She braided her hair and rang for Willy. He took the bath and water away and returned to inquire if she would like to come to the deck.
She donned Colton’s cloak and followed him out to the main deck where many of the crew were resting and sipping from tin mugs. She followed Willy up onto the quarterdeck where Mr. Timms was waiting.
“Are you going to tie me to the mast now?” She smiled at him.
“I've been given leave to do so, Lady Olivia,” he said without emotion.
Olivia's smile wilted. “I hope you won't feel the need to.”
“It all depends on you.”
Olivia looked to Willy and the boy shrugged.
“Well, I suppose I will just stand over here and see what dock life is like during the mornings.”
Willy and Mr. Timms did not respond.
Olivia looked out over the bustling port in wonderment. Everything was moving at once, ships, people, and objects. It was a hive of commotion and noise. It seemed pleasant and jovial, but the closer she looked the more grime and depression became noticeable. A stray cat, mostly fur and bone, curled itself into a coil of rope and anxiously licked its fur. A dog weaved through the crowds, head down, sleek as a cat, but also bone thin and weary. It was sad to look at.
Next, a woman wrapped in a thin blanket appeared from behind a large stack of crates, shortly followed by a man tucking his shirt into his trousers. Olivia gasped. The woman and man went their separate ways, and Olivia turned to look at Willy. The boy paid no mind, but Mr. Timms was frowning.
“Willy, will you fetch the sketch book you made me please?”
“Certainly.” He hurried from the deck.
Olivia approached Mr. Timms. “Is he exposed to such indecency so often, Mr. Timms, that the sight of a prostitute has no effect on him?” She tried not to sound accusing, not that it was in any way Mr. Timms fault, but Willy was still a young boy, and innocence should not be treated so callously. Who was here to protect him?
“Aye, my lady. I would guess from the day he was born that boy has seen more in his fourteen years than a man with a full life should. That is why the captain saved him.”
“But he is still being exposed to such things.”
“You cannot hide him from the rot in the world. How will he ever learn to see the beauty?”
Olivia pondered that. “But what of his innocence?”
“I would believe you are far more innocent than he is. Fear not for him. He is strong in heart and mind. He is not the boy you think he is, but a young man growing under the influence of the good captain. While such sights shock you, they are commonplace to him now. We all have different views of the world.”
Olivia felt chastised, although she didn't understand why. Her heart told her to protect Willy because he was just a child, but perhaps she was doing him a disservice. She nodded and turned back to the railing. Willy appeared with her sketchpad, pencil, and a stool, and for the next hour, she sketched the sleeping cat. She was amazed that with all the hustle and bustle, the cat never woke.
She returned to the cabin and picked a book to read from Colton's desk. The day wore on, and she struggled to keep herself o
ccupied until Colton returned. As the sun began to sink into the ocean, her patience was rewarded.
Colton returned just after dusk to change his attire and share his lack of news about Devon, then left again. Olivia sighed in defeat. Again, she prayed that Devon would be found quickly and safely, but even miracles did not work that quickly, as far as she knew. The waiting was unbearable, but that's all she could do now.
Colton and Dirk sat in a tavern closer to the center of the city. The patrons were a mix of seedy criminals and nobility with seedy intentions. They both sipped their ales silently, looking for the right target that might cross paths with a man of Devon’s station. Colton had his suspicions about where to look, but many of the brothels of notoriety that Devon might seek were highly secretive and only accessible if one were invited. Colton was posing as a wealthy aristocrat, dressed in his finest coat and trousers. Dirk sat to his right and would nod to various people who they thought could be of use.
“That's our man right there.” He nodded to a man in the corner by the fire. He wore a garish coat embroidered with bright flowers and a top hat with a red feather.
“How do you know?” Colton asked curiously.
“The red feather. It's a mark of the trade. He searches for rich clientele to give invitations to.”
“Why be so exclusive?” Colton eyed the man in the corner suspiciously.
“The more exclusive, the more expensive. I've heard other things too—exotic women, opium, strange things...”
Colton could only imagine. “How do I approach him?”
“Don't. Make him come to you, flash some coin. If ye look like you got lots a coin to lose, he won’t resist giving you the chance to lose it.”
Colton nodded. He adopted a rather inebriated smile and laughed loudly. “Give everyone a drink on me.” He winked at the bar wench and slapped a bag of coins on the table. Everyone cheered and some even rose to clap him on the back. As the crowd drew away, the man in the corner had disappeared and before Colton could search the room, reappeared by his side.
The man smiled. “Je bent in grote geesten mijn heer.”
Colton blanked. “Beg pardon?”
“Please excuse me,” the man said in perfect English. “I was not aware you were not a Dutchman like myself. I merely commented that you appear to be in great spirits.”
“And well I should,” Colton slurred for effect. “No one is more blessed than I this eve.”
“How fortunate you are. What brings you to our humble city?”
“Gold, silk, luscious women and fine ale, my friend.” Colton clapped the man on the back heartily and nearly tumbled from the stool.
“Ah, is it riches you seek?” The man eyed him shrewdly.
“It is riches I bring. Gold and silk... The women I still need to find.” Colton laughed and the men around him joined him.
“Let me be of service to you, my lord.” The man stepped closer and from his pocket slipped out a large wooden coin. It was painted red.
“This will grant you admission to the finest brothel in the city. There you will find the most beautiful women in the world, gambling, and more than you could ever imagine. A more exciting evening could not be had anywhere else. In fact, some gentlemen find the entertainment so alluring that they stay with us for days, sometimes weeks, even months. We have special gatherings for elite society, and certain levels of the manor reserved for those of special interests.”
Colton raised an intrigued brow. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. His gut told him this was the place where he would find Devon. “Sounds like heaven. How will I find this place?”
The man pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to him. “I promise all your wicked fantasies will come true, my lord.” The man moved away into the crowd, and Colton looked down at the card. All it contained was an address. He looked at Dirk. “What do you think?”
“Sounds like a good place to start. They won't let the likes of me in there.”
“They probably wouldn't want me either. Why don't you head back to the ship, and I will check it out.”
Dirk frowned. “All due respect, Cap'n, I don't think you should go alone.”
“I agree, it isn't the safest idea, but what other options do I have?”
Dirk shrugged.
“Head back, and I won't be too late.” Colton kept a small pad of paper and pencil on hand and pulled it out. He scribbled the address on it and gave it to Dirk. “In case I don't return. I plan to be back long before dawn.”
“And if you’re not?”
Colton scowled as he thought about it. “First and foremost, you get Lady Olivia back home. Mr. Timms will know what to do for me.”
He could tell Dirk didn't like it, but he nodded in agreement.
They parted ways and Colton hailed a hackney. The driver didn't speak English, so he showed him the card. Nodding, he motioned for Colton to get in. The drive only took a quarter of an hour before they stopped in front of a nondescript house in a well-to-do neighborhood. With the red wooden coin in his hand, he climbed the steps and made use of the heavily ornate knocker.
The door opened to reveal a butler who looked both stern and brutal. His faced was lined and his hair a bright white, but his shoulders bulged with muscles beneath his fine coat, and he eyed him with menace.
Colton presented the red coin. The butler nodded and beckoned him to follow. The door closed heavily behind him as they entered the main foyer where candelabras and chandeliers filled the hall with light. To his right and left were receiving rooms filled with people with drinks in their hands, merrily chatting. A footman came to take his greatcoat and hat.
“Op deze manier mijn heer.” The butler turned and headed up the stairs.
Colton had no choice but to follow and hoped someone would speak a language he understood. He was escorted to a drawing room, where women lounged like goddesses and men fawned over them like worshipers. One woman in particular reigned over the room, sitting in a garishly red overstuffed chaise with a bevy of gentlemen around her. The butler led him to her and bowed, then left.
“Hoe doe je mijn heer?” she said huskily as her eyes surveyed his attire.
“I'm afraid I don't speak Dutch,” Colton admitted sheepishly.
“Ah,” the woman laughed seductively. “An Englishman, I see. Never fear, this is a worldly house, my lord. To what do I owe this wonderful visit? Are you in search of sinful diversion?”
“Aren't we all?” Colton said silky.
“I know I am.” The woman slowly got up and took his arm.
“I am Madame Ana. This establishment is mine and offers anything a man such as you could want. How may we be of service to you this evening?” She raised a brow in question.
Colton looked over the face and form of Madame Ana. She would have been a true beauty in her day, but now her skin was aged beneath a thick layer of powder, and the weariness in her eyes not quite camouflaged by the lining of black coal. Her red-stained lips smiled invitingly, but the only stirring Colton felt was a stirring of hope that Devon would be found here.
“I think I would like a tour to gain my bearings. This place seems to hold more treasure than a single glance can allow.”
“By all means.” She bowed her head. “This level of the house holds no secrets from you, but to go further up the stairs certain conditions must be met.”
“Really?” Colton cocked his head in intrigue.
“Gentlemen who book rooms upstairs enjoy the perks freely, but as a single night guest, you must bring a woman of similar interests with you in order to gain access. It adds a certain level of...diversity.” Her smile was liquid and hot.
Colton absorbed the information in silence as he looked up the stairs speculatively then met Madame Ana's gaze. “I've yet to hear such a condition before.”
“You will never find another establishment like De Poorten Van de Hemel, or as you would say in your English, The Gates of Heaven.”
Madame Ana introduced him to a tall
blonde named Aline to finish the tour. A hopeful light had lit her eyes when they met, but Colton would have to disappoint her. He had no interest in any other woman when the taste of Olivia was seared into his brain. They finished the tour, and a footman fetched glasses of champagne.
“Aline, my brother recently traveled to Amsterdam, and I am supposed to meet him. I’m afraid he’s been lost to the pleasures of the city and has forgotten to meet me. This place would certainly appeal to him. Do you think he might be here?”
Aline shrugged her elegant shoulders. “I have no idea, mijn jeer. What does he look like?”
“Well, we actually don’t favor each other in looks. I am much handsomer.”
She laughed seductively and clung to his arm.
“My brother has much darker hair and very green eyes. He can be rather brooding at times, but mostly charming, and he may be nursing a broken heart.”
“Ohhhh!” Aline jumped up and down brushing her breasts against his arm invitingly. “That sounds like Mijn Wilhelm.”
“Yes, that’s him,” Colton said encouragingly, but he didn’t want to appear too eager. “Is he here now? I’d like to tell him that I’m here.”
“Hmmm, I think so. He’s been here for a month, if not more. He can’t leave yet—I mean, I don’t believe he has left yet.” She smiled.
She looked a tad nervous in Colton’s opinion.
“Perfect,” he said smoothly. “Take me to him, and we can truly get the evening started.”
She gave him a sultry smile, and then paused. “Oh, but you can’t leave the first floor without the escort of a woman.” She pouted prettily.
“But I’m with you,” Colton murmured and slowly ran a finger down her cheek.
She was very receptive to his touch and placed a hand on his chest. “It has to be a guest woman. But if you find one willing, I’d be happy to join you.” She leaned in as if to kiss him.
Colton pulled back. “A woman guest, you say?” He stroked his chin. “I guess I should find one then, so I can return.” He smiled wolfishly. “I’m dying to explore all that the Gates of Heaven have to offer.
