The Siren's Call

by Candace Osmond

  I guffawed. “You think?”

  “I assume she saw you down below and did it for a rise,” he explained. “Roselyn was never one to shy away from a reaction. It was the only way she knew how to get her father’s attention. I suppose old habits die hard. She’s truly a good person, deep down. I promise you.”

  I tucked my knees closer to my chest, as much as my round belly would allow, and rested my chin atop them. Henry’s hands rested around my ankles, desperate, waiting, pleading. I looked at the man before me and the sincerity in his black eyes. A range of hot emotions still flowed through my veins, but I was tired. And, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than for my pirate king to take me in his loving arms. To tell me everything was going to be alright.

  “I believe you,” I told him sternly, still holding my ground. “But this can never happen again.”

  His big black eyes pleaded with me from above my bent knees. “Y-you forgive me?”

  I waited a beat before responding, softening my tone as I did. “Yes, I forgive you, Henry. I mean, there’s hardly anything to forgive.”

  The relief that washed over him was palpable and Henry hugged into my knees. “Oh, thank God. I thought… I thought I was going to lose you.”

  I pulled at his head, now buried in the blankets that draped over my legs and forced his tear-filled gaze upward to me. I held his glorious face in my hands, rubbing the thumbs under the skin of his eyes. Much like he always did for me. Henry pushed a cheek into my palm before turning and leaving a kiss there.

  “You will never lose me, do you understand?” I reassured the man and placed one of his hands over my belly. “I am yours and you are mine. Forever.”

  Henry smiled and twisted to fetch something from his trouser pocket. A ring. He pinched it between his fingers and held it out for me to see, both of us admiring its simple beauty and the promise it offered. The thin gold band and emerald gems held on by a golden claw gleamed in the dim candlelight of our room.

  “Speaking of forever,” he began. I tried to mask the sudden burst of sheer joy I felt rush through my body. But he saw it and his mouth widened knowingly. “However did you find this?”

  “In the market today,” I told him. “The ring caught my eye. Then Lottie pummelled the merchant into submission after he revealed the other goods he had.” I laughed and shook my head. “Poor guy.”

  “Other goods?”

  I leaned over and fetched the velvet bag from the floor next to us and dumped its content on to the bed. “That’s what Lottie and I rushed back to tell you. Before we were hustled off to Wallace’s. Maria’s been around, long after reaching the shores. She traded these things just a few days ago.”

  “Christ…”

  Henry’s fingers moved over them, scooping up the ship-in-a-bottle I once gave him and smiled before discarding it in favor of his black leather journal. The piece that started it all. My heart broke for the boy contained within its pages. Funny how I would come to fall in love with the man who grew from it. I watched as he pried the pages open and rubbed his thumb over the dried blood stains. His mother’s blood.

  “My mother was a beautiful woman. She would have loved you dearly.” The journal snapped shut and he tossed it on the bed before holding out the ring once more.

  “And I know, without a doubt, that she would have wanted you to have her ring. I want you to have her ring. It belongs on your finger, and your heart belongs to me.” He swallowed hard. “If you’ll so willingly give it.”

  I shifted anxiously in my spot, moving my weight to my knees so I could fully embrace Henry in my arms, kissing his soft pink lips. “I already have. My heart’s been yours since the moment we met. Maybe even before.”

  Happily, he stood from the bed and helped me follow. Henry then knelt on one knee at my feet and held the ring out in offering, smiling up at me.

  “Dianna Cobham,” he began, a slight waver in his voice. “Nothing would bring me more earthly pleasure than to have your hand in marriage. To spend the rest of my mortal life by your side. With this ring, I vow to hold your heart in my capable hands, to protect it, keep it warm, and always put it first. You are the shining light in my otherwise dark existence, and all I ask is that you let me stand in its radiance until we depart this world together.”

  With a deep breath, I wrung my trembling fingers through his messy blonde hair, smoothing it back from his face. “That’s quite the vow,” I said.

  Henry took my hand and held the ring in his other, waiting. “A vow I do not make lightly. Dianna, will you be my wife?”

  “Yes,” I replied finally.

  Quickly, Henry slipped the ring over my finger where it fit so perfectly and then joyously jumped to his feet. Two hands slipped under my arms and he lifted me in the air as we spun in a circle. I laughed loudly, giddy and drunk on the sudden burst of happiness as he set me down and took my mouth in a feverish kiss. Long, hard, and full of desire for me. Our warm lips pressed together as we hungrily drank each other in. Pulling and pawing at what was left of our clothes. I stepped back as Henry’s anxious hands yanked the shift over my head, revealing my completely naked form.

  “Take me, Henry,” I told him, panting. “Make me forget the world exists.”

  His chest heaved with quick breaths and his arousal was evident in the space between us. My skin crawled with hot, prickly goosebumps as every fiber of my being ached for his hands on my body. For him to take me then and there and ravage me until there was nothing left but a spinning room and my trembling legs. His dark gaze pierced the air and he became hungry with desire. A low moan erupted deep from within his body as he closed the distance between us, grabbing my hair in his fist and pulling my head back. His mouth hovered over mine.

  “Gladly.”

  Chapter Eight

  It’s funny how an eternity of assurances still can’t keep the anxiety at bay sometimes. Just hours ago, Henry had professed his love to me and asked to join our lives together. The ultimate act of true love. But, as I lay there in the early morning light that shone in through the tavern’s window, my head nestled into the warm crook of Henry’s arm, I fought with my mind. My worries. Concerned about our near future and what part Maria would play in it. Would I fail? Would my sister kill me instead?

  When I managed to shake the crazy thoughts from my brain, the empty space filled with concerns for my baby. Would it be healthy? Would I carry it to term? What if there were complications during labor? What if I died in childbirth like so many women of this time did?

  I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving this world without being wed to Henry. I wanted our lives to be joined just as our hearts and souls were. I wanted to offer myself to him in the ultimate way. To stake my rightful claim.

  We laid in bed, Henry still sleeping soundly, and I carefully twisted a ring from his finger; thick and silver with the shape of a skull carved into its face. I mindlessly slipped it down over each of my fingers, as I gazed across his bare chest out the brightly lit window, until it fit securely around my thumb.

  I sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to calm my nerves, but the air struggled as I inhaled. In my arms, Henry stirred, waking from sleep. I craned my neck and watched in admiration as he wiped his tired eyes and yawned, the warmth of his glorious body escaping the blankets.

  “Good morning,” I said and kissed his chest.

  His arm, wrapped around and under me, tightened. Pulling me closer. “Good morning, my queen.”

  “About that,” I began and swallowed hard. “I think we should get married as soon as possible.”

  Henry shifted and turned on his side, facing me. “Is everything alright?”

  “Yes,” I told him, moving my still naked body close to his. “I just want to truly be your queen, and you my pirate king. I don’t want to wait. I think we’ve done enough waiting for one lifetime. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, I can’t argue with you there.”

  His searching fingers found my warm thighs and slid between them. My
breath caught in my throat as he guided one of my legs to rest over his hip and my body shivered. His face nuzzled my neck, sucking and nibbling at the tender skin there.

  “When do you propose we wed, then?” he asked between kisses.

  My head tossed back in ecstasy and I fought to form words. “T-today?”

  Henry came to a screeching halt and looked into my face. “Today?”

  I rolled my hips, grinding our centers together. “I don’t want to wait, remember?”

  “Well, then,” he replied with a pleasant grin and tugged at my leg. “I best make this swift. We’ve got a wedding to plan.”

  A long, blissful while later, we stood in the privacy of our room and helped one another dress. I buttoned his shirt as his fingers tightened the strings at my chest. My long red, cotton skirt fell heavily to the ground and threatened to catch underfoot with every step I took. I cursed the garment internally and prayed for the day this baby would leave my body and I could go back to wearing my beloved pants.

  “Are you ready?” Henry asked me and took my hand in his.

  “Yes,” I told him with the utmost certainty.

  We left the room and bound for the stairs, ready to gush to our friends the news and beg for their help in planning the shotgun wedding. Henry had pleaded with me to consider a church, to wear a white gown, and have all the expected things a normal wedding should. Insisted that I must want them. But I told him, again and again, that all I wanted was to be his wife. I didn’t need fancy clothes or a stuffy church. Truthfully, the one thing I wanted most of all was to marry the love of my life on Newfoundland soil. But, since we were so far from the comforts of home, the next best thing would have to do.

  Together, we stepped off the last stair and searched around the early morning crowd for our crew. Our friends. My eyes found the back of Lottie’s blonde head and I made a b-line across the floor toward where she sat at a table with the rest of them.

  “Good morning, everybody,” I greeted, standing at the end of the narrow table. They all looked up from their food and regarded us curiously. “Henry and I have some news.”

  “Christ, it better be good news,” Finn moaned. I saw then, the evidence of a severe hangover on all their faces and I felt bad for what I was about to ask of them. “Not sure we’re fit t’handle a crisis this early in the marnin’.”

  I laughed and turned to Henry.

  “No, I assure you Finnigan,” Henry said. “It’s good news. No crisis here. Except…” He gave the floor back to me, unsure how to proceed.

  I held up my hand that sported the gorgeous emerald stone and waggled my fingers. “We’re getting married.” I pursed my lips in excitement and then added, “Today.”

  Their eyes widened, and Finn called out loudly.

  “Aye, ‘tis about time ye two did it!” he stood and came around the table, slapping Henry on the back before scooping me up in a clumsy embrace. “Congratulations, Lass.”

  I laughed and hugged him back. My friend. I loved him dearly. If it weren’t for Finn and his protective ways, I may not have ever gotten the chance to get to know Captain Devil Eyed Barrett. He vouched for me when no one else would. Took me under his wing and made sure I had a place aboard The Devil’s Heart. I owed him my life.

  “I, um, I was hoping you’d give me away,” I said by way of asking.

  The giant Scot erupted with a massive chuckle. “You want the likes of me walkin’ ye down the aisle?”

  “Well, not an aisle,” I told him. “We’ve decided to get married aboard the ship. It’s the closest thing to home we all have, and I can’t think of a better place to do it. It’s been our home for so long.”

  Everyone seemed to approve of the idea and Finn’s brightened face calmed with a sense of pride. “Of course, I’ll walk ye down the aisle. It’d be me pleasure.”

  He released me back to the ground and Lottie took his place, wrapping her delicate arms around my neck and pulling me close. She whispered in my ear. “I’m so happy for you.”

  Lottie pulled away and we exchanged a tearful glance. I mouthed the words ‘thank you’ and she sat back down. My friend tried to be discreet, but I caught the swift movement of her foot as it kicked Gus’s leg underneath the table. He awkwardly cleared his throat and stood, shaking Henry’s hand with a curt nod.

  “Congratulations, both of you. This is excellent news.” He stopped to adjust his wide leather belt. “So, what is it you need?”

  “I’ll need your help to find a local priest who can perform the ceremony on such short notice,” Henry told his oldest friend, clasping him by the shoulder. “And I’d hoped you’d stand with me.”

  “I’d be honored,” Gus replied and smiled, a genuine expression that actually reached his eyes.

  My heart warmed at the exchange.

  “Lottie, I’ll need your help finding a dress.” The image of my gorgeous evening gown lying in heaps and pieces upstairs flashed through my mind. “I just don’t have anything suitable.”

  Her eyebrow arched, and she snickered. “Another trip to Madam Guthrie, then?”

  I let out a small laugh and nodded. She would be the best choice. “Finn, can you round up the boys? Let them know? And perhaps get them to help clean up the deck?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain!” Finn replied half mockingly. But I knew he’d get the job done.

  ***

  With bellies full of hearty breakfasts, we all set out with our duties. Lottie and I took a carriage to Madam Guthrie’s and entered the quirky clothing store. I wasn’t in the least bit surprised to find her ready and waiting for us. As if the old woman knew we were coming.

  “Ah, good morning, my lovely ladies,” she greeted, sipping tea from a delicate piece of china. Today her wispy grey hair was twisted up with a white silk turban. “Did you enjoy the party last night?”

  “It was wonderful,” Lottie replied. “The food was excellent. And I may have drank a little too much wine. My body pays the price this morning.”

  Madam Guthrie let out a low cackle of laughter and set her tea down on a small, round table for a refill. She glanced up as her long bony fingers gripped the teapot. “Care for a cup of tea, ladies?”

  “No, we’re fine, thank you,” I told her. “We’re here for a dress.”

  “A dress?” she said with a guffaw. “I do believe I sent you on your way with a gorgeous garment just yesterday, did I not?” Her eyes examined my face and teased me somehow, with the possibility of knowing. Knowing that the very dress she spoke of laid on the floor back at The Kraken’s Den.

  I felt the skin of my cheeks turn red. “It’s, uh, not quite what I need for today.”

  “Oh? What sort of dress are you hoping to find, then?” She began slowly walking through the store, sipping her hot tea and adjusting things on shelves with her free hand.

  “Something suitable to get married in?” I told her.

  Madam Guthrie spun around, a sense of purpose splashed across her face, and she set down the teacup. “A wedding, you say?”

  “Yes, can you help me?” I asked her, and side-eyed a quiet Lottie who stood dutifully next to me. “On short notice again? I’ll pay you extra.”

  She shook her head and waved me off. “Nonsense. Dressing brides is one of my favorite things to do. I’d be honored.” A pleased grin widened across her wrinkled face. “And I have just the thing.”

  “Wait!” I called after her as she scuttled through the many rows of clothing. “It can’t be too fancy!”

  “I know!” she called back from somewhere.

  I chewed at my bottom lip. “And the wedding will be outside, so it can’t be too thin!”

  “Of course!” her voice rang back, further away now.

  Unsure, I turned to Lottie, chewing at the nail of my thumb.

  “See?” she said and raised her brow as the word witch mouthed silently.

  I laughed with a sigh, brushing her off.

  “Seriously,” she said just above a whisper and nodded toward the lit
tle table with the teapot where two empty cups sat. Waiting. “She knew we were coming.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I told her.

  We heard the sound of Madam Guthrie shuffling her way back to the front of the shop then and we turned to meet her. The old woman emerged from the back of the store with a long, thin garment draped over her arms. The fabric seemed to be a mix of silk and some sort of sheer. It wasn’t white, but a subtle grey. Like fog over the ocean, early in the morning. A light dusting of clear gems sprinkled down over the fabric, catching the sunlight like freshly fallen snow. I admired the way the waist cinched just under the breast, and the long sleeves it offered. But most of all, I loved that is didn’t have a corset.

  “Madam Guthrie,” I said in total awe. “Wherever did you find something like this?” I knew it was out of place, not of this time. Women in the 1700s coveted their poofy dresses, heaps of fabric, and tightly packed corsets. This… this was something I would have wore in my time.

  The woman gave me a cheeky grin. “I made it.”

  “What?” I said, confused.

  “I had a vision for this dress, many years ago,” she explained. “I knew no one would buy it but, still, my hands begged to create the cursed dress. I’ve held on to this ol’ thing for nearly twenty-seven years. Just waiting for the perfect woman to grace me with her presence and wear it beautifully. You’ll do just fine, I imagine.”

  I tried not to think of the odd timing. How this lady had the sudden creative urge to make such a dress as many years ago as I was old. It didn’t make sense, anyway. Unless time existed in a way we had no means of grasping. That the layers of our world weren’t, in fact, neatly stacked and strung along in a train-like formation. Past, present, and the future. Perhaps… everything existed at once, in some form or another. Connected in an unearthly way. The future affecting the past just as much as our actions trickled into the days ahead.

  I still stared at the dress in awe. “Well, it’s… it’s perfect,” I said. “More than perfect. I’ll take it.”