“That would be superb, Captain.” A beaming smile. “Book the passage.”
“The plan is set.” Poole clapped Harry on the shoulder.
“Thank you, my friend.”
Julia returned with a tray holding a plate of hot food and a goblet of wine and set the tray on his lap. “This meal was made by Mrs. Alveraz and it’s her delicious pork and apple pie, with roasted potatoes and parsnips.” She glanced at her father and Poole. “Mrs. Alveraz is outside serving at a trestle table if you’re both hungry.”
“I adore her food.” The professor bounded to his feet and he and Poole disappeared out the tent flap, the men chatting spiritedly.
He breathed in the rich, savory aroma of the pie. The vegetables glistened with butter, the parsnips too, but it was the woman who’d brought him the meal who he needed most of all right now, not food. “Please stay while I eat.”
“Of course but eat slowly.” She removed cutlery from her apron pocket and once seated beside him, handed him the utensils. “You mustn’t forget that this is your first meal in two days and your belly won’t be used to such a large consumption of food.”
“Whatever did I do without you?” He swept one hand around the back of her head and drew her closer, until her lips were a mere breath away from his. “I want to eat you, not this meal.”
“Harry.” She gasped his name, then snagged his fork and stuck some pie into his mouth. “A little less talk from you.”
“I’ve learnt your name.” He moaned his approval for the divine food, although he’d rather have had her lips on his.
“From my father or from Poole?”
“Julia.” He grinned as he said her name.
“Aren’t you clever.” She smiled. “It would have been Poole who blabbed. Am I right?”
“You are.” With her close once again, his soul eased.
Chapter 19
Almost a week later, Julia bumped about on the squabs of the coach Father had hired as they traveled the rutted road from Cabeco to Lisbon. All their possessions had been collected from St. Vincent’s Fort and loaded on the carriage racks, along with Harry’s possessions too.
“You’re very quiet, Julia.” In her olive traveling gown with long sleeves hemmed in layers of lace, Una patted her hand from beside her. “If you’ve changed your mind and wish to admit to the major that Jamie doesn’t exist, then your father and I shall stand by your side.”
“Yes, we shall,” her father intoned from the seat across from her.
“No, I’m not changing my mind on that issue, but thank you both all the same.” Yesterday, after Harry had been released from the infirmary, she’d changed into Jamie’s attire, pinned her hair underneath a brown cap and smeared coal dust on her jaw and cheeks before asking Father to introduce her to Harry as Jamie. It was important that since he didn’t recall her ruse, that she be able to enjoy the use of it in the future, possibly even on board the ship.
“If you change your mind...” Father tugged on the tails of his blue silk waistcoat buttoned over a white embroidered shirt, his white cravat knotted at his neck. “As a family, we shall continue to weather any storms that arise together.”
“I need Jamie from time to time.” Twisting her gloved fingers in her full red skirts, she turned her attention out the partially open window. Harry sat atop his mount in his uniform of royal blue, silver, and white, his saber secured at his hip and his golden hair cut shorter by Mrs. Alveraz, who’d been delighted to bring out her bronze-pivoted scissors when Harry had asked her if there was a barber in the village he might visit for a trim. The elderly lady had sat him on a stool outside the infirmary and chatted away as she’d seen to the chore.
As if he knew her thoughts were on him, he glanced her way from atop his horse, his amber gaze colliding with hers, his leather riding gloves straining over his knuckles. His cheekbones seemed sharper in the late afternoon light, his lips more sensual and his eyes blazing with barely restrained need. He nudged his horse closer to the coach and called out, “Is all well?”
She nodded a silent yes in answer.
“We’re halting on the rise up ahead. You’ll be able to stretch your legs and enjoy the view soon.”
“Thank you,” she called back.
Within minutes, Harry and Poole brought their horses to a halt near the headland overlooking the waters of the Rio Tejo where it met the Atlantic Ocean. Their driver slowed their coach and rattled to a stop at the side of the road. The man bounded down from his perch, set the step in place and opened the door.
Father stepped clear first, offered Una a hand down, then her.
“Thank you.” She kissed Father and Una on the cheek. “I love you both. You know that, don’t you?”
“Of course we do.” A smile as Father shooed her away with a flick of his fingers. “Una and I will stay close to the coach. Enjoy a stroll.”
“I’d like that.” Holding her broad-brimmed hat atop her head, she walked through the grass to a quiet spot under an elm tree which had begun to lose its foliage, the brown and burnt orange leaves blowing across the dusty road as the breeze whipped through. They’d well and truly left the rolling hills and rocky outcroppings of the central peninsula behind, the bustling port city of Lisbon lying directly below the headland. Here, the land swept down in undulating hills to the rippling blue waters of the harbor below. Dozens of ships dotted the bay, this port a hive of activity.
“There’s our British naval ship at berth.” Harry stepped around the trunk and motioned toward the three-mast vessel in port with seamen heaving crates up the gangplank. “She sets sail at midnight.”
“Yes, and in seven or eight days we’ll be home, back on English soil.” She longed to return to the countryside where she and Father lived. Their home was only a day’s ride from the Scottish Borders where Una lived in her glorious little cottage.
Harry glanced back at the coach where Poole now conversed with Father. “Is everything all right with Jamie?” he asked as he returned his gaze to her. “He doesn’t wish to stretch his legs?”
“Jamie is asleep and we decided not to wake him.” Before leaving Cabeco they’d bundled pillows under a blanket on one bench so it had appeared as if Jamie slept, just in case Harry or Poole looked inside the carriage.
“Lucky lad. I wouldn’t mind a restful sleep right now.”
“Is your head bothering you?” She pushed off the trunk and touched the back of his head, the lump less swollen although the spot was still heavily bruised.
“No, and I adore the way you fuss over me.” He caught her hand and smiling, pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles. “Would you care to join me for a short walk? I need to speak to you about a private matter, one which I don’t wish for anyone to overhear.”
“No one can overhear us here.”
“Yes, but I’d still like more privacy than what this spot allows.” He looped her hand through his bent arm and guided her down a trail leading along the slope and when they reached a large, flat boulder out of sight of everyone, he gestured for her to sit.
She did, and he eased down beside her.
“I’ve recalled a memory. I thought you should know.” He stuffed his leather riding gloves in his pocket, his amber gaze darkening as it remained locked on hers.
“Oh, you have?” Her pulse raced. “A good memory, or a bad one?”
“An intriguing one.” Taking her hand again, he slowly pulled off one of her gloves, one finger at a time before he spread her hand over his upper thigh. “Last night I awoke from a vivid dream, whereby I was in your chamber. We kissed, rather passionately, then when I leaned against the wall, I must have knocked something which caused a hidden door to open.”
“I see.” She quirked a brow. “Do you remember anything else?”
“No, but I am constantly bombarded by the urge to drag you into my arms, so I might have my wicked way with you.” He skimmed his hands over her waist, lifted her and set her directly on his lap.
Her pulse sped to a
roaring trot.
“Julia, all I can think about is touching you, kissing you, making love to you.”
“You have a lady awaiting you back in England.”
“I beg to disagree.” He cupped her face in his hands and drew her gently forward, then he covered her mouth with his mouth and from one mind-bending moment to the next, swarmed her senses with a sizzling kiss. Every inch of her heated, burned and throbbed to get closer to him.
“Harry.” She gasped his name.
“When I’m near you, I can barely hold my desires at bay.” He caressed her sides, roamed down over her hips and lifted her even higher on his lap, until his cock pressed firmly against her backside. “Do you feel our connection? Have we been lovers?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t keep that particular truth from him any longer and so she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. “Unfortunately, we are from two different worlds.”
“No, we are from the same world, just different places.” He kissed her again, his breath mingling seductively with hers. “For the record, my precious siren, I intend on making love to you again, and next time I won’t forget it. You have been warned.”
“For the record, my hussar, I intend on steering well clear of you, and I’ll ensure you don’t forget that either. You have been warned.”
“Woman, I do love a challenge.”
“Then consider one issued.” A challenge she would win. For his sake, it was time she let him go. Their affair had never been meant to last beyond the battle.
Chapter 20
Several hours later as the high tide rose at midnight and they sailed out of Lisbon, Harry stood at the stern as hundreds of emotions thrummed so strongly through him. They’d all boarded the naval ship captained by Commander Owenly and been given cabins below deck, his directly across the tight passageway from Julia’s, the lady in question having hidden herself away after their challenging conversation atop the bluff. He’d scared her with his words, although he wouldn’t allow her to remain scared for long. Nor would he allow her to evade him either.
Since Poole wouldn’t enlighten him any further about his relationship with Julia, he intended on enlightening himself. Drat his friend, saying it was all for his own good, that he needed to recall his memories without any further aid from him.
He stormed across the deck and ducked down the companionway and halted outside her door. He was desperate to bang it down and demand more answers.
He barely restrained from doing so. Not tonight though. She needed time and such an action wouldn’t aid him at present, not until he’d uncovered more. Perhaps banging his head against the wall might restore some of his lost memories? A man could only hope.
Growling under his breath, he stalked into his cabin, closed the door and shucked his uniform. In naught but his bare skin, he slumped onto his mattress and thumped his pillow as he settled his head on it. The ship creaked and groaned and the indigo silk bed shades over his head fluttered with the ship’s movement. With thoughts only of her storming through his mind, he struggled to fall asleep and when he finally did, his dreams were filled with erotic images of her once more. His cock got damned stiff and in the morning, when he stirred, he gripped his shaft and worked himself until his seed spurted forth into his handkerchief.
He tossed the linen into the hamper, opened his beloved trunk which had been collected from St. Vincent’s, and shrugged into a white lawn shirt which he left open at the neck, then he pulled on tight-fitting black breeches which held a golden strip along the side seam down both legs. Mid-calf Hessian boots tugged on, he strapped his saber to his right hip and slotted his pistol under his waistband on his left hip. He wouldn’t don his uniform today, or perhaps even tomorrow, maybe not even until he left the ship once they reached port in London. Today he needed to be Harry. Just Harry.
In front of his washbasin under the salt-encrusted port window, he worked soap into a foam and smeared his jaw with bubbles. Dagger in hand, he swiped his bristles away and dabbed the remaining soap clear with a cloth before sheathing his dagger at his wrist. He nabbed a white neckcloth from his trunk and with it in hand, unbolted his door.
Across the darkened passageway, Julia stepped clear and closed her door. She lifted her chin and gasped as she met his gaze, her beautiful brown eyes going wide, then her lashes fluttering down and back up again. She plastered herself back against the dark wood of her door, her sight narrowing in on the exposed skin of his neck. Her breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling swiftly. “I, ah, didn’t expect to see you so soon, Major Trentbury.”
Since she seemed to be enjoying the view of his neck, he stuffed his neckcloth in his pocket and closed his door. The ship rose suddenly at the bow, dumped down, and he lurched forward, barely catching her around the waist before she got flung to the floor. “Are you all right?” he asked as he set her back on her feet.
“Yes.” A breathy answer as she stared into his eyes, her golden locks falling in loose waves all about her face, her white lacy shawl having slipped from her shoulders and now lying looped over her wrists from behind, her burgundy empire gown a vivid splash of color in the gloomy dark. With trembling fingers, she lifted a hand and ran a finger along his skin exposed by the V of his shirt. She wore no gloves and with her fingers on him so intimately, he shuddered with need.
“How did you sleep?” he asked gruffly.
“As well as can be, and you?”
“I dreamed of sliding my cock deep inside you.” The honest truth, which he had no desire to sugarcoat for her. “I had to take myself in hand this morning.”
“Oh, how interesting.” Her chest rose and fell with her quickened breathing.
“I wish it had been your hand on me.” Slowly he ran his fingers through her fair tresses, then opened one long curl like a fan and settled it over the upper swell of her left breast, her neckline sweeping dangerously low. He wanted to drag her neckline even lower, to pull her bodice down and lift her breasts free so he could suck on them.
“Harry?” She wet her lips, her gaze on his mouth. “Please cease looking at me as if you wish to devour me.”
“You say one thing, but your eyes say another.” He caressed her lower lip with his thumb, his cock throbbing with need as he pressed her against the wall, his hips firm against her hips. Dipping his head, he brushed his mouth across her mouth and when she stopped breathing altogether, he lingered, going slower, sucking on her lower lip. “Kiss me back, my love,” he murmured against her mouth.
“We’re in the middle of the passageway.” Yet she touched her tongue to his and a heady wave of pleasure swamped him, along with a healthy dose of primal need as she suddenly delved deeper and explored his mouth in the way of lovers.
Boom!
Wood splintered across the companionway and dinged off the steps.
The ship tilted sharply.
Damn, their ship must be under attack. He held onto her tight as he pulled her up the steps, right past the rubble. On the foredeck, officers bellowed and mayhem ensued. Sailors scurried about as the cannons were fed.
“Incoming,” one of the crew yelled from the crow’s nest.
He pushed Julia onto the ground and covered her with his body as a ball hit the water just off their bow and sent a wave whooshing high over them. Their seventy-gun frigate boomed with responding fire. Swiftly he lifted her to her feet and pressed her against one wall before raising a hand to his brow and searching the waters. A warship flying the French colors approached off their port side at full speed. “The French have lost the war on land, but it appears they now wish to strike by sea.”
“What do we do?” Julia gripped his shoulders and peered around his arm as she eyed the man-o-war closing in, its weight equal to theirs.
“Our English naval fleet is far stronger than theirs, although unfortunately we’re a single lone ship at sea which has already been struck.” A second broadside hit on their port side and the ship shuddered. Their crew readied their guns for fire and as the b
alls shot from the cannons, their ship swayed with a sharp tilt.
He scooped Julia into his arms and raced toward the boat on the starboard side which was thankfully already being readied for lowering. Portugal’s coastline rose a half mile distant and an officer herded civilians into it. Two of the crew took the oars as he settled her safely inside. “You’ll be safer back on allied soil than these seas. When you reach the beach, find the closest fort and I’ll meet you there.”
“I don’t want to be cast adrift without you.”
“I’ll find your family and get them on the next boat. Don’t fear for me. I’ll never leave you, not now, not ever.” He caught the back of her head and with his gaze locked on hers, spoke directly from his heart. “Julia, I mightn’t have all my memories, but deep in my heart I know that I love you. Stay in the boat and remain safe. I will find you and when I do, I will make you mine again.”
“I l-love you too.” She sniffed, tears pooling in her eyes. She clutched his shirtfront. “You’d better keep your word, Major.”
“Lower the boat!” Commander Owenly yelled as he raised a hand to his second mate.
The boat jerked as it got lowered over the side and he lost his hold on Julia just as she lost her hold on him. She waved to him frantically as the crewmen thrust their oars. “Harry, wait.”
He gripped the side of the ship and leaned out to hear her better, only cannon fire soared from their enemy and their guns boomed, obliterating anything she said. Smoke plumed from their artillery as a second warship approached.
“Bourbon is on his way.” Poole slid in beside him with a telescope.
He lifted the scope to his eye and indeed spotted The Cobra’s colors flying with Bourbon standing at the helm of his vessel, his guns aimed at the French.
The Wartime Bride_Regency Romance Page 13
