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Pirates of Britannia Box Set

Page 55

by Devlin, Barbara


  Her cheeks flamed and she placed a hand tentatively on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm. “I am sorry, Thomas. I know I caused ye and Grace much trouble.”

  “Well, ye still have time to help make things right.” Her brows rose, wondering what sort of plan he had. With the glint in his green eyes, she knew it would involve a ship and the sea. She was the wife of a knight who was aligned with pirates… what did that make him? What did that make her? She found that she could not seem to care.

  “Have ye ever heard of the Treasure of Danu?” he asked with a quirked brow. When she only frowned and wrinkled her brow in confusion, he began to tell her about his ancestors, the Sisters of Danu and a treasure they had acquired from the gods in a war over fifteen centuries before. According to legend, years later another war was imminent and in order to hide the sacred treasure containing a golden cauldron, a glowing sword that lit up when an enemy approached, and the Spear of Lugh, one of their sons hid the treasure in a cave somewhere along the coast of either Ireland or Scotland. The treasure, which legend says only reveals itself to the chosen ancestor, had never been located.

  “I believe I am the one, lass. From the youngest age, I knew of my connection to our family’s ancient line. I had vivid dreams of the treasure even before my grandmother told me of it. I can picture it when I close my eyes. I know now why I must find it. The gold in that treasure will be enough to feed, clothe, house, and save many of the people suffering in this land.”

  “And now, because of my father, ye have no ship,” she said quietly, and shook her head. “I am so sorry, Thomas.”

  “I am more saddened by the loss of life and the cargo than the ship. And ye are not responsible for yer father. My grandmother has agreed to give me one of her many ships and a crew in exchange for my pursuit of the treasure. We can begin on the morrow.”

  “How can I help, Thomas? I wish to help.”

  “Ye can help by resting up and staying out of the way.” She did not like his comment one bit and opened her mouth to argue that she had more skills to offer than he thought, when a sudden commotion downstairs caught their attention.

  “Tomás! Tomás!” a woman’s voice wailed from down below. His brow furrowed in confusion and Katherine wondered who would call to him with such urgency.

  “Who is that?” she asked, shifting to sit up in the bed.

  A sudden banging on their door had her scrambling to cover herself with the brown woolen blanket on the bed.

  Without concern for his bare chest, Thomas strode off to the door with a fierce scowl, collecting his sword on the way. As he swung the door open, a red-haired woman wailed and launched herself at him, causing him to grunt with the impact as the woman’s arms encircled him.

  “Och, my wee Tomás! Ye have come back home!” The woman sobbed onto his bare chest and Katherine, though highly confused, could not help but bite back a smile at the scene. Whoever this woman was she had the red hair of Grace O’Malley and clearly a strong affection for Thomas. Could it be his…

  “Mother?” he questioned, prying the woman off his body so he could look down at her properly. “Can it be? Aye, I could never forget my mother’s face,” he whispered. This time, it was Thomas who did the embracing, wrapping her up in his strong arms.

  “Aye! I came to visit my mother and she told me ye were back…” Just then the woman saw Katherine, her green eyes widening at the sight of a woman in her son’s bed. “Oh, I am so sorry. I did not think to… that ye…”

  “Mama,” Thomas said with a low chuckle as he stepped away and stood beside the bed, taking Katherine’s hand. “May I introduce ye to my wife, Katherine Bin… Esmonde.”

  The fact that Thomas could not say her last name in front of his mother made shame flood her. Her father had killed this woman’s brother and destroyed her family.

  “Wife?” his mother said with a smile and a sniffle. “What a joyous discovery, to find ye back in Ireland with a wife, no less!”

  “Wife!” A shriek came from the hall as Grace entered the room, eyes locked on Katherine in a most frightening glare. “Ye married the Bingham bitch?” she spat. “Are ye out of yer mind?”

  “She is a Bingham?” his mother cried. Katherine felt mortification flooding her cheeks and sank down into the bed to make herself smaller.

  “Aye! She is that Sassenach’s daughter! The reason all our cargo has been stolen from under our noses and transferred to the enemy!” Grace’s gaze shot to Thomas and she sneered. “Ye would mix O’Malley blood with this Bingham bitch? Ye should have slit her throat, not married her!”

  “Enough!” Thomas roared. Katherine could feel his anger like a living, breathing thing consuming the room. “She is nothing like her father! She had no idea he was stealing the cargo for himself! She was trying to help the people!”

  “So, ye marry her?” Grace shrieked. “Why?”

  “Because her father beat her! Gave her that bruise beneath her eye and bruised her ribs, simply for being in my company! And, because ye would see her killed! It started with me wanting to ruin her as part of my revenge. I stole her from that bastard’s house, but when I saw her injuries, I knew she needed protection from him… and from ye,” he nodded toward the Pirate Queen. “Ye cannae kill her. She may carry the next O’Malley.”

  Katherine gasped and shrank further into the sheets, mortified by his lie and infuriated that he had been so affectionate with her before and now was treating their marriage as if it was some obligation. Was that truly all she was to him?

  “Oh, Tomás!” His mother wailed. “Of all the brides…”

  “Mother, ye have not seen me in over twenty years, so I would ask ye to keep yer opinions about my decisions to yerself!”

  Just then, yet another red-haired lass entered, this one much younger than the other two. Her green eyes were just like all the others in their family and she smiled kindly at Katherine.

  “Ye both need to shut yer traps. Cannae ye see that ye frighten the lass. She is my new sister, after all.”

  “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 thought 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 th
e 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.

 

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