Wild Lord Taggart

by Tammy Jo Burns

  He broke off the kiss and murmured, “You’re a quick study.”

  “I have had a bit of practice,” she quipped.

  “Thank goodness. Virgins are overrated,” he said before capturing her mouth once more.

  She broke away at his words. Her husband would never say that. He would want his wife to be a virgin, to be his and his alone. A feeling of unease settled over her body cooling her ardor. She tried to pull away when his lips touched hers once more.

  “What’s wrong? Circe?” Lips trailed along her neck.

  “No! Reese, stop!” she ordered, and her eyes flew open in shock at her own words. “It is you! How could you?” she slammed the palm of her hands against his chest in frustration and embarrassment. Circe tried to force him to move as close to the wall as possible. She scooted to the edge of the mattress and continued right over the edge onto the floor. Circe lay there looking up at the ceiling. What just happened? she wondered dazedly. Her body throbbed with unfulfilled passion while mortification set in at the things she had done with that…that…rake and scoundrel. A concerned face suddenly filled her vision.

  “Circe, are you all right?”

  “My name is Miss Hayhurst, and I ask that you remember that, Lord Taggart.”

  “Fine. Miss Hayhurst, are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “What happened to the ropes?”

  “Captain Adams came and released us a while ago. I convinced him not to disturb you. You had just fallen asleep after having gone without for so long. The storm seems to have turned. The good news is it has pushed us closer to the islands, so we are actually ahead of schedule now.”

  “Wonderful. Less time aboard this ship with you.”

  “I knew you’d rejoice in the news.”

  “Now, I would appreciate it if you would get out of my cabin,” she said as she pushed herself up.

  “Not until I make certain you are all right.” When she started to argue, he placed his fingers over her lips. “No argument, you did the same for me.”

  She twisted her head and pulled away from him. “That was different. You were bleeding and knocked unconscious. As you can see, I am in perfect health, Lord Taggart.” She stomped across the minuscule room to the door and held it open for him. “Thank you so much for weathering the storm with me. It was truly a balm to have someone to share the foul weather with, but I would like some privacy now.”

  “Of course, Miss Hayhurst, but there is one thing before I go.”

  “Oh? And what would that be?”

  “This,” he said.

  He turned, gathered her up in his arms, and kissed her as she had never been kissed before. The boys and men she had kissed in England had always been gentle when their lips met. In fact, some of them she even doubted if their lips had ever truly made contact with hers, but the same could not be said for Reese Taggart. When Wild Lord Taggart kissed her, he took possession, ravaged her mouth, and branded her as his.

  “No!” She tore herself away from him. “Leave, now,” she ordered.

  “I foresee you in my bed, Miss Hayhurst.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it,” she countered. “Now, get out,” she snarled, pointing to the hallway. He stepped into the gangway without saying another word, and she slammed the door shut in his face before bolting it to ensure he stayed out.

  “Enjoy the lock now because once I make you mine, no locks will keep us apart,” he said through the door.

  Circe put the back of her right wrist against her swollen lips and stared at the closed door. She only started to relax when she heard his footsteps finally retreat. She slumped against the stationary table. Her body felt achy and swollen all over, tender from his touches and craving so much more. And it throbbed. What is wrong with me? He is not the man I am looking for. He does not want a wife or children. No, push him out of your mind and pretend none of this happened, she silently ordered herself. Instead of doing what she told herself, she pushed herself upright and returned to the bunk. She climbed in and laid on her stomach so that she could inhale as much of his scent that he had left behind, knowing deep down that every man she met from here on out would be compared to Wild Lord Taggart.

  “Bloody hell,” she muttered to the empty room, took another deep breath, and let his scent soothe her.

  * * *

  Reese adjusted his breeches before he went on deck, wondering why he had antagonized her the way he had. He was already in a miserable physical condition, he did not need the sailors pointing it out to him, nor did he want them to know that he found Miss Hayhurst in the least bit fascinating. He worried that if he let on he was physically attracted to her, and that was absolutely all that it was, the sailors would become curious about her. He was not doing it to keep her to himself, but for her protection.

  Sure you are, he taunted himself.

  “Shut up!” he snarled as he found his footing on the deck just as a sailor passed him.

  “Did ye say somethin’, m’lord?”

  “No. Cooped up too long below deck.”

  “Yes, sir,” the sailor replied looking doubtful before he scurried off to his job.

  Reese watched as the other man neared the hatch that went below deck, his eyes narrowed. He slowly relaxed as the man kept walked past Circe’s cabin. “Get yourself together. She’s not yours and never can be. Forget her.” He looked around the deck and found Captain Adams and Schmitty talking in what looked like a furtive manner. When he strolled up, the two men jumped apart as if they were guilty of conspiring about something. He simply ignored them. “Do you have something for me to do, Captain?”

  “No. You’re a passenger, enjoy the voyage and recover from your wound.”

  “Captain Adams, I’ve been forced to stay in that cabin for I don’t know how many days. I’m used to being useful. Tell me what I can do.”

  “How’s your head?”

  “Fine.”

  “Are you fearful of heights?”

  “No.”

  “Go up to the crow’s nest and relieve Red. You’ll need to look for other ships on the horizon and anything else that might cause us difficulty.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Reese moved off and started climbing the rigging. He was fully aware that many of the sailors were watching his progress, wondering if he would make it or break his neck as he tumbled back to the deck. He felt triumphant when he reached his destination and took the telescope from the other man and sent him on his way. He took a deep breath, letting the ocean breeze rid him of the smell of roses and the natural, womanly scent God had blessed Circe with. Feeling his body tighten once more, he cursed himself, then brought the telescope to his eye and turned in a slow circle.

  * * *

  “They were kissing, you say?” Captain Adams asked his right-hand man.

  “Quite passionately, sir.”

  “Her father would not approve at all.”

  “How can ye say that, Cap’n?”

  “If she were my daughter, I wouldn’t approve. He’s not the marrying kind and her father told me that she’s specifically going to Barbados to find a husband. Damn her chaperone for leaving her alone.”

  “You married her and her sweetheart, if I remember right, Cap’n.”

  “So I did, Schmitty.”

  “May I ask why’d ye take on Miss Hayhurst? Ye don’t usually take on passengers, ‘specially women.”

  “I knew her father a long time ago,” he answered. “We went different directions with our lives but have always stayed in touch.”

  “I see.”

  “We must keep an eye on Miss Hayhurst. I promised her father I would watch over her as if she were my own daughter. I don’t want to have to kill that young man, but I will if I have to.”

  Schmitty looked up at Captain Adams expecting to see a teasing smile on the man’s face, instead he could see the other man was deadly serious. It made Schmitty wonder about the history between Miss Hayhurst’s father and the Captain, but he k
new better than to ask. If Captain Adams wanted him to know something, he would tell him, otherwise it was none of his business. He followed the Captain’s gaze up to the man in the crow’s nest.

  “How much longer before we reach Barbados and turn her over to her kin?” Schmitty asked.

  “Too bloody long,” Captain Adams retorted before he turned and walked off.

  Chapter 5

  “Good afternoon, Miss Hayhurst.”

  Circe held her hand up to block the sun and squinted at the man speaking to her. Lord Taggart looked down at her with a look of interest on his face. A few days had passed since the storm and other than checking on his injury, she had attempted to steer clear of him. She sat in a coiled rope, contentedly reading and watching the passing scenery. She was fascinated with the way the porpoises chased after the ship and then played with one another, dancing among the waves and flipping into the air. Then there would be the occasional fin that poked above the water indicating that a shark, and danger, lurked somewhere below the surface. Only when she thought of the shark did she remember that Lord Taggart was looming over her. She took a fortifying breath before she spoke, “Good afternoon, Lord Taggart.”

  Much to her consternation, she watched him lower himself to the deck and lean back against a nearby barrel. She let out a heavy sigh that revealed her irritation with his presence.

  “Why, Miss Hayhurst, do you wish me to go away?”

  “Yes, Lord Taggart, I do. I would like to read without being disturbed.”

  “Oh, but I’m not going to disturb you. I just came out for a bit of fresh air.”

  “Oh?” she asked curiously, cutting a glance at him when he did not reply in some fashion. His eyes were closed. She was irritated with herself, because she was upset that he had given up so quickly and had fallen asleep, sitting upright with his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, instead of trying to verbally spar with her. What is wrong with you? she berated herself. He has finally decided to leave you alone. Enjoy the peace and quiet, she ordered herself.

  Determined to do just that, Circe returned to one of several books she had brought along with her. Upon reading the same paragraph for the fifth time straight without comprehension, she took a surreptitious peek at Lord Taggart. “Reese,” she whispered quietly, letting his name roll off her tongue like a caress. He did not move in the slightest, so she took the opportunity to study him. His overly long hair blew haphazardly in the wind. His dark brows formed a slight ‘V’ on his wrinkled forehead. He had a patrician nose and a strong chin that had an indention hidden by the whiskers that covered the lower half of his face. His face and neck were bronzed from the sun. His strong arms were crossed over his muscular chest. Today, as most days on the ship, he wore no coat or weskit, but only his shirt, trousers, and boots. Just the sight of him was doing things to her body that—

  “If you’re going to stare at me that long, I would suggest you commission a painting. That would allow you to look your fill whenever you wished.”

  “Oh,” she growled and watched a slow grin spread across his face, but never did he open his eyes.

  “You should have said something sooner,” she chastised him.

  “And ruin your inspection? Never. Did I pass?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Am I everything you wished for? More perhaps?”

  “You, my lord, are too full of yourself.”

  “I’d like for you to be full of me,” he replied seductively.

  “You are vulgar.”

  “Since when is speaking the truth considered vulgar?”

  “Do you have a defense for every accusation leveled at you?”

  “When there are so many, one tends to prepare oneself.”

  “I can only imagine,” she said snidely, the wind carrying her words off.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing.” Circe smiled sweetly at him.

  “Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

  “Believe what you must, my lord. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to return to my book.” Circe opened her book to a random page and pretended to be engrossed in what she was reading.

  “It might be more convincing that you were actually reading if the book weren’t upside down,” Reese said with a chuckle.

  Circe looked, really looked, at the book in her hands and saw that he spoke the truth. The book was clearly upside down. With a smirk, she left it that way and quipped, “I find reading this way much more challenging.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, why don’t you read hanging upside down, then I can enjoy watching you be challenged as well.”

  “Why would you get such pleasure from that?” she demanded as she snapped her book shut. She placed it beside her with a thud and stared at Reese while he laughed.

  “Oh, come now, Circe,” he said, calling her by her christian name. “Surely if you give it some thought…”

  She conjured an image of herself reading upside down, hanging from either her knees, or perhaps her feet tied together, above the deck, her skirts hanging about her head. Her head snapped up as the realization of what he meant penetrated her mind. “Why, you—”

  “Circe, please stay,” he said, grabbing her hand to halt her after she jumped to her feet to leave.

  “Why, Lord Taggart? So you may continue to live down to your reputation? So you can continue to humiliate me and talk to me as you would a courtesan or prostitute? No, I do not think so. I have my pride and my dignity, and I will not allow you to treat me with anything but respect.” Circe jerked her hand free of his, scooped up her book, and took several steps away from him when she heard words from Lord Reese Taggart she had never expected to hear and highly doubted if anyone else had ever heard.

  “I apologize.”

  “Pardon?” She slowly turned and studied him. He slowly got to his feet and met her questioning gaze. He looked serious and remorseful.

  “I apologize,” he repeated. “You are right, I have not treated you as a lady should be treated. I am going to Barbados to begin my life anew, and I have done a poor job of it thus far. My only defense is that it is almost impossible for a tiger to change his stripes to spots, but I am going to do my best. I hope you can forgive my crass behavior.”

  “I do.”

  “That easily?”

  “You seem sincere, and I trust my judgment.”

  “Thank you.”

  Circe only nodded her head.

  “Please stay. I’ll leave so as not to disturb you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re not going to tell me that I don’t have to leave?”

  “No.”

  “I see.”

  “I do not believe you do, my lord.”

  “I want to be your friend.”

  “My lord, you are not the type of man who only remains friends with women. You are much too tempting for a woman, let alone a single woman seeking a husband. You do not want to become a husband and I respect that, but I need you to respect my wishes and stay away from me.”

  “If you’re certain,” he said, sounding quite downtrodden.

  “I am,” she said, remaining firm in her decision.

  “Then I wish you a good day and happy reading, Miss Hayhurst.”

  “Thank you, Lord Taggart. The same to you, except the happy reading, perhaps.”

  “Yes,” he said with a crooked smirk, his eyes mercurial as the blues, greens, and grays within them fought for dominance. “Good day,” he said once more and bowed his head politely.

  “You have already said that, my lord.”

  “So I have.”

  He looked as if he were going to say something else, but instead he closed his mouth and walked towards the ship’s wheel where Captain Adams stood. She covertly watched the two men speak and saw the older man nod and point in the direction of a group of sailors. Lord Taggart nodded his head and approached the men. He said something to them and a couple of the men shared a look with Capt
ain Adams. He gave them a nod and they turned back to Lord Taggart. Looking quite put upon, the men conferred among themselves for a moment before taking Lord Taggart to an area of the ship far away from her.

  Circe looked up and saw Captain Adams observing her. Embarrassed to have been caught watching Lord Taggart, she turned her head and looked as if she had a sudden interest in the book she held when that was the farthest thing from the truth. When it appeared Captain Adams was no longer giving her a fatherly glare, she lifted her head and adjusted her position until she could see what task the sailors had given him. She almost burst out laughing when she saw, but managed to only let a strangled laugh slip forth. Across the ship, Wild Lord Taggart, England’s most notorious rogue, was on his hands and knees scrubbing the ship’s deck.

  “Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have a portrait artist aboard this ship right now,” she said wistfully then giggled.

  * * *

  Circe lay in her narrow cot watching the moonlight cast shadows and light through the open porthole window. She shifted restlessly. She was tired of being on this ship. She liked Captain Adams and the sailors well enough. After the initial undercurrents of mistrust, they had grudgingly come to respect her, even though many still steered clear of her. Despite the breakthrough between her and the men, she was ready to be on land and around women. She wholeheartedly wanted to be able to sit and listen to women gossip while they were all working on their embroidery or perhaps go shopping for a new hat or dress.

  The splashing of the water called to her. She rolled to her side and closed her eyes, but sleep was elusive. Circe got out of bed and quickly exchanged her night rail for a day dress. She grabbed her shawl, since the ocean wind could be cool, especially at night, and silently made her way out of her room and up the ladder. She carefully walked across the deck, leaned against the rail, and looked out over the water. The moonlight danced over the waves. A chill wracked her and she pulled the shawl tighter around her.