Linna : Historical Romance (The Brocade Collection, Book 5)

by Jackie Ivie

  “Who? And why would anyone come for you? Nobody cares that I know of.”

  “You didn’t...tell them?”

  Cord had opened his eyes, spearing her with a confused look. Linna watched as the lamp above his head swung back, then pitched forward, smacking him from behind. Her cry wasn’t heard above the loud cracking noise the glass made, although it didn’t break. Cord didn’t appear to notice as he fell, first onto to his knees, then full out, sprawling directly at her feet.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Linna didn’t move as quickly as she should have. It was due to fright, of course...and something else. She knew it had something to do with the look on his face before he’d fallen, but she refused to think that through!

  She nudged him with a toe. His head rolled a fraction. Otherwise, he didn’t move. His breathing didn’t even change. She frowned, as she realized what had happened. He was unconsciousness. She nearly giggled at his plight. A big strong man like he was, knocked silly from a little oil lamp? That bore remembering if only for teasing purposes later. Her smile died the instant she knelt. Good heavens! The man was burning with fever!

  Linna could feel his heat the moment her knee came into contact with him even through her heavy serge skirt. What had he said? He was exhausted and wet? Linna slid her hand to his breeches, wetting her palm the moment she touched them. He was soaked. What a fool. Didn’t he know the consequences?

  There was nothing for it. She was going to have to undress him, dry him, and keep him warm. She didn’t know what might happen otherwise. She didn’t even know where they were going.

  Linna sighed.

  She’d just have to nurse him. It shouldn’t be too difficult, although chores of that nature didn’t come naturally to her. She’d had practice with a colt just last spring, when one of the mares had delivered twins. One had foundered from birth. Linna had lost her heart to it and stayed for three nights in the stable with it. But you lost that one anyway, Linna, she reminded herself.

  She shook off that memory. Cord didn’t remotely resemble the little colt anyway, all legs and frightened breathing. He actually more resembled its sire, pawing and rippled with muscle....

  Linna stopped the recollection. She wasn’t likening him to a stallion, she wasn’t! It was bad enough he’d already made the comparison with her adding to it.

  She’d have to roll him over. She waited until the pitch of the ship worked with her before pushing. It didn’t work. He simply rolled back. She moved to brace her back to the wall and heave with her legs. That didn’t work either. He simply rocked once and settled back into place.

  Well. She had to get him out of his trousers. That was next to impossible without his help. Oh. Wait! He’d unfastened them. She’d just watched him do it. Linna straddled his lower legs and peeled the wet material to his knees, soaking herself, too. She kept her mind on getting the chore done, rather than what she was actually doing. And seeing. She was merely getting him dry. And warm. She kept telling herself that as she twisted his ankle to reach his boot lacing. That’s when he rolled over, exposing his nudity to the flickering lamplight. Linna blushed severely, but couldn’t keep from looking. And looking again.

  Cord groaned, twitched. Linna moved her eyes back to his boot. It was made of soft leather and laced all the way to the knee. To the knee? She should have known. Nothing he did was designed to make it easier for her.

  The rawhide was soaked with water and completely resistant to her fingers. Linna broke two fingernails as she worked with the boot laces.

  What she wouldn’t give for a pair of sewing scissors!

  Linna pulled one boot off the moment she had the lacing loose enough. That wasn’t soon enough. Her fingers were getting clumsy. It was his fault. His trousers had soaked into her skirt when she’d straddled him, and now she was cold, too.

  She couldn’t imagine how he’d handled it for so long.

  Linna renewed her efforts. She broke another nail before she had the second boot and his pants off, as well. Then, she stood. She had to get him warm. Actually, she had to get them both warm.

  Linna regarded the wall with the hidden cot and realized the obvious. She wasn’t going to be able to get him into the bunk, not by herself. But she could move the bedding to the floor. The latch gave her trouble. Her fingers weren’t cooperating. She was shivering when the plank finally slammed down.

  She quickly stripped off her clothing, stopping at the blouse and chemise. Then gathered the quilts in her arms. That when Cord gripped to her ankle, making her stumble.

  “Where...do you think you’re going?”

  Stomach muscles bulged everywhere, sweat was beading him, his face was flushed, making those green eyes even more startling, and Linna couldn’t think of one thing to say.

  “I asked...you a...question,” he finished before his head dropped to the floor with a thump.

  Linna dumped the coverings onto him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m trying to get you warm. Stop that!”

  “Don’t want quilts. Want...you.”

  His hand crept up her calf, warming her.

  “Really? Well, you can’t have me,” she replied as she shoved the cot-thing back into the wall, and slipped the loop over the peg to hold it into place. If she had to tend to him on the floor, she didn’t want to have the cot in the way. The light wasn’t staying one, either. With the way the ship was moving, something untoward could happen to it. There was also the matter of her own lack of wardrobe and what he might do if he saw it, she reminded herself.

  He groaned, the sound reverberating up from the floor. “I haven’t…got anything...you want,” he told her.

  “Well, that much is true,” she replied, twisting the oil rag back into the oil, where the light lingered for a few moments.

  “Leave me alone. Leave me....”

  She had the light too low to see what he was referring to.

  “Why am I here? Why? Where’s my—? Where is she?”

  “I’m right here, Cord.” Linna knelt beside him and did her best to get a quilt wrapped about him.

  “Mmm....nice.”

  Linna was on her knees, shoving material around him when arms wrapped about her. He pulled her off-balance and then held her to his chest once she fell. He was hotter than before, if such a thing were possible.

  “Cord, I have to get you wrapped.” She was grateful for the dark. She probably looked as wanton as she felt, on her knees and held to his chest, while her derriere met with nothing but air.

  “Don’t want to get wrapped. Want…you.”

  Linna rolled her eyes in the blackness. “You have a fever, Cord. You’re too hot. I have to get you covered.”

  “Not hot. Cold. Mmm, you’re warm. Very warm. Nice.”

  Of course she was warm. It was the severity of the blush as he pushed his nose into the side of her neck and breathed onto her skin.

  “This is ridiculous,” she said.

  “Not ridiculous. Nice. So nice....”

  His voice faded. Linna waited a bit longer before pulling away from him. That action started an instant shiver. That’s not so strange, she told herself, he is burning hot, and you’re nearly naked. He had all the blankets, too.

  Linna stood for a moment in indecision, before the ship’s movement careened her into a wall. She stumbled back to her knees. She couldn’t risk falling atop him in the cramped cell.

  “Where...are you?”

  His arm shot out and burned where it connected with her arm.

  “Right here. Stop that.” She grumbled the last bit as he wrapped both hands about her wrists.

  “Don’t go. Please? I need...want....”

  Linna held her breath.

  “...water.”

  The dark hid her reaction. What had she expected him to say? He wanted her? And did she really want that?

  “Well. If you want water, you’ll need to let me go and fetch it. Lucky for you I brought a bucket-full back earlier for my bath.”

  “You...talk to
o much.”

  He didn’t feel weakened if his next action was any indication. He plucked Linna from her knees down onto him.

  “Don’t need talk. Need...”

  He didn’t have to finish, his fingers were doing it for him. Linna felt his touch along her spine, spreading his fingers across the small of her back.

  “You’re ill, Cord,” she said stiffly, as he pushed her blouse open.

  “Better,” was his reply when he had his arms inside her clothing and wrapped about her, holding her against his chest tightly. Her breathing became shallow in what room he left for her. “No corset. Nice.”

  “I never wear them.”

  “Good. I also like the way you wear your skirts.”

  He moved a hand to cup her buttock, and Linna’s gasp of surprise was swallowed against his neck as she buried her face there to absorb the embarrassment.

  “Umm. Very nice. Have I already said that?”

  “How did you...?”

  “I’ve taken a chill, Linna love. I’m not dead. Come closer. I need to feel all of you.”

  He didn’t wait for her to obey, he simply made certain, sliding her fully onto his length. Linna lay as passively as possible atop him, her knees in the reservoir between his thighs and her feet grazing his calves.

  “They didn’t hurt you?” he asked.

  “Who?”

  “Anyone...the crew. The bastards....”

  The crew? She wondered it, but he didn’t finish. Linna sighed. He sank back into unconsciousness. She could tell by the measured breaths he was taking and how rhythmically she rose and fell with them. She counted to ten, then to twenty for good measure, before moving. It didn’t matter. As soon as she turned her head, preparatory to moving, the hand cupping her buttocks tightened.

  Linna gasped as he rolled to one side, scooping her into the enclosure he made.

  “Nice,” he mumbled against her neck again.

  Linna lay on her back, her head pillowed on his arm, and told herself the forced embrace was nothing. He had an arm about her, encircling her ribcage under the blouse. He had a thigh tossed carelessly across hers, and his nose burrowed into her collarbone. It felt amazing. It was difficult to remember that this was the man who had earned the most cold-hearted treatment she could mete out.

  He was the man who’d taken gold from Rex Fletcher in order to attack Ryan Daniels. Linna wasn’t sure why or how, but the Captain had reassured her that when they reached Nouvelle Larroque, she’d find herself speaking with a magistrate post-haste. Rex Fletcher was a wanted man, after all. The captain had also promised to help her resettle. Resettle where? Linna wondered again.

  Linna had only to get through this voyage to be free of Cord and every other man. That’s all she had to do. But then he had to wreck her carefully designed facade by moving his hand below her waistband to mold it about the mound that was their babe. Linna almost melted in place as his hand fit about the babe.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Larket! Topside!”

  Linna stirred at the heavy knock even before the words made sense. No. They wouldn’t. They wanted Cord to work? No. He was much too ill. He was proving it, too, as he slept through the pounding.

  “Larket!”

  Linna slid out from beneath Cord’s arm, knowing for certain he was unconsciousness as he just let her go. He hadn’t allowed her any such movement all night. Her legs were numbed. Her back ached at having slept in one position on the floor. And she was ravenously hungry. She wrapped a quilt about herself before stumbling over Cord’s feet.

  “Larket! I’m warning—”

  Linna pushed the door open a crack and watched the man’s eyes widen. He was the height of her doorway. Linna wondered where they had found another crewman of such a size. Surely they weren’t all giants, she wondered, as she shoved her hair over her shoulder and faced him. “Cord is too ill to work today.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Well....” Her voice tapered off as she turned to the sleeping mound on the floor. Trust him not to say a word to anyone!

  “Cord got his-self a fancy woman?”

  Linna’s expression froze. She should have waited to answer. It might not have been so acidic. “Perhaps you need your vision checked,” she replied.

  “We don’t allow woman below-decks. This be crew quarters.”

  “Oh, really? Perhaps someone should have informed us earlier,” she replied in a sarcastic tone.

  He wasn’t unpleasant to look at, just big and not very bright from the confusion on his face.

  “He should never have brought ye aboard. He knows the rules. This ain’t going to go over well with the captain.”

  “Oh. Good. At last we agree.”

  “Huh?” He asked it, screwing up his nose and forehead. He was wearing the same sort of kerchief tied about his head as Cord had worn, and his loose-fitting shirt was open to the waist, showing off a nice array of muscle. And she’d thought Cord’s attire was improper!

  “I think I can see why women aren’t allowed near the crew,” Linna commented as he just stood there.

  “Huh?” he asked again.

  She cleared her throat. “And you’ve made the wrong assumption,” she stated loudly. “I am not a fancy anything. I happen to be his wife.”

  “Cord went and got his-self hitched?”

  “I just told you he did, and the word is himself.”

  “Huh?” he replied for the third time.

  Linna would have given him a dead-pan look, but it would be wasted. Cord groaned from the floor then, drawing their attention.

  “How bad off is he?”

  The man pulled the door handle out of her hands and walked right in, brushing past her without an invitation. Linna was forced sideways into the wall to make room. She’d been mistaken. He was tall, but Cord had him by at least four inches. Maybe more.

  “He have a fever? Weakness?”

  “Why would you think that? Maybe we enjoy sleeping on the floor.”

  “What?” He lifted his head and scrunched one side of his face as he looked up.

  Linna relented. She couldn’t take out her temper where she wanted to, and the man who had just forced his way into their chambers was proving to be too easy. “Forgive me. I’m a bit…out-of-sorts. Yes. Cord is fevered. He’s had it all night. And he’s very weak. I couldn’t get him into the cot by myself. That’s how weak he is. If you’d be so kind as to assist me?”

  “Don’t look to me. I can’t heft him for you.”

  “Perhaps if we both tried?” she offered.

  The man stood then and looked her over. Linna knew she was probably a sight. Her hair was falling about her, the blouse was askew, and the quilt wasn’t quite reaching her ankles.

  “You’re pretty, but ye talk funny.”

  “Oh. Bother. I take it that’s a no?” she asked.

  Cord groaned at their feet, drawing her glance again. “Well, I really hate to keep you from your own work, Mister...?” She left it open but he didn’t supply a name. That was just as well. Sharpening her wits on him was a useless exercise. She’d rather not know his name. “You should probably cease staring and go now.”

  “Go?”

  “Someone has to apprise your employers of the situation. It’s going to have to be you. I certainly can’t do it.”

  “You can’t?” he asked.

  Linna sighed. “You just informed me that women weren’t welcome below-deck on this vessel. I certainly qualify as a woman. And I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong impression of me like you did. If you’d give his excuses to the captain, please? Or whoever he reports to?”

  Linna would have held the door open for him, but it was already gaping wide into the hall, swinging back and forth with each roll of the ship.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Excuses for his absence. You’ll have to make them.”

  “Absence?”

  Linna sighed, even louder. “He can’t climb any rigging today. He isn’t capa
ble. Someone will need to be informed, surely. And someone besides myself will have to do the informing. I’m hopeful you’ll be the one to do it.”

  “Oh.” His face cleared. “You want me to go and tell the first mate that Larket is ill.”

  “Ah. Good. We are communicating here. And…perhaps I could also talk you out of some victuals?”

  “You sure do talk mighty fine. Victuals, she says.”

  “Victuals are food. Toast, porridge, biscuits, whatever it is that you have available. Can we get some? Perhaps some tea, too? I’d love some tea.”

  He shrugged, stepped past her to the door and went out into the hall. “I’ll send his man to ye. He handles Cord’s need. I don’t. He can get what you want.”

  Linna didn’t have long to wait to find out what the man’s last cryptic words meant. How could a man of Cord’s few means have a servant? She hadn’t even finished asking herself the question when a man leaning toward obesity in his middle and sporting a long, narrow nose, bright blue eyes, and thin lips opened the door forcefully, by pulling the handle right out of her hands.

  “Where is he? Oh dear! Dear! Cordean! Why didn’t you say something? Anything? If you’ve hurt one bit of that glorious physique, I will never forgive you! Hold this, darling.” He handed her a pile of towels and bent beside the sprawled man, testing Cord’s forehead with a palm. “Mercy! He’s burning up. And you let him lay on the floor with but one covering? As sick as he is? For shame!”

  Then he stood up, put his hands on his hips and faced her. Linna was afraid her mouth was open.

  “Well missy? What have you to say for yourself?”

  “I—.”

  Linna had the strangest urge to giggle. She had to slap her own hand to her mouth, losing half of the quilt and the towels in the process. His eyes narrowed at the state of her clothing. For some reason, it made her feel cheap and tawdry.

  “Oh, so that’s how it is, eh? You’re a fancy girl, taken from the docks. Stupid girl. You should have come to me sooner. He’s of no use to you like this. Now, leave.”

  Cord groaned then, stopping any response she could have made. The man immediately dropped to his side and lifted a hand in both of his. “Cord? There, there. Simons is here to see to you. What did the mean, nasty girl do to you?”