Again (15 page)

Jonathan looked down at Sara, a skeptical grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

She stood wantonly close, her shoulders thrust back, her bodice cut dangerously low. 

He stepped back.
 
“Why are you here, Sara?”

She reached up and patted her hair that she had so meticulously piled upon her head.
 
“Because I believe we seek the same thing.
 
We are lonely and we need someone to love us.”

“I do not believe I ever said I was lonely, Sara.
”

“There is no need to be coy, Jonathan.  I know we need each other.”
 
She reached up to trail a finger down the front of his shirt.
 
He deftly grabbed her wrist and held it away.

Anger flashed in her eyes and she sneered.
 
“If my sister cared for you, would she not be here?
 
Mayhap at this moment she is enjoying Sir Galen’s touch.” 
She smiled, pleased when she saw Jonathan’s jaw clench.

She stepped closer and stared into his eyes, lowering her voice to a whisper.
 
“I am here, Jonathan.
 
She is not.
 
We are both lonely.  Please, take me.
 
Let me sail with you.”  She seductively touched the lace of her bodice, enticing him to look, but his eyes never left hers.

“Sara, as tempting as your offer is, it will never be that way for us.”

Batting her eyelashes, her eyes wide with innocence, she said, “Do you not find me attractive, Jonathan?”

“Indeed, Sara, but...”

Without a word Sara flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, her lips pressed fiercely against his.

Jonathan immediately grabbed her wrists and pried her off, holding her at arm’s length.  No longer were the lines around his eyes soft and laughing.
 
“As I was saying, Lady Sara, you are most attractive, but there is more to it than attraction.
 
Pleasures of the body must be paired with the longing of the heart.”

Her glistening eyes betrayed her hurt and frustration, and her small bosom rose and fell with her angry breaths.
 
She yanked her wrists from his grasp and stood glaring up at him, hands clenched in tight fists at her sides.
 

Jonathan continued, “You deserve someone who will love you, not just bed you, and
that someone cannot, and will not, be me.”

Tears spilled over, staining her cheeks.
 
Her foot came down hard on the deck. “No one will love me.  Everyone loves dear, sweet Catherine.  I will just grow up to be an old spinster.”

Jonathan wiped away the tears that trickled down her face.  “I doubt that very much.” His voice softened again.
 
He tilted her chin up so she would look at him.  “You will find someone.”

“No, I will not!” she spat out.
 
“Oh! Catherine will live to regret this!”  She spun away and ran across the deck, her slippers pounding.

Cedric and three other crew members scrambled above deck.

“Sir!
 
Is everything alright?”

Jonathan sighed and nodded his head at Sara’s departing figure.
 
“Cedric, follow her at a distance to see that she arrives to the castle safely.
 
I do not want her to do something foolish.
”

≈

“You said once that you thought me to be beautiful.”
 
A deep breath steadied her voice.
 
Do you still believe that to be true?”  Sara stood in the doorway of the hawk mew.  Her silhouette filled the doorway, her hair now flowing around her shoulders.

Lord Oakley slowly turned around at the sound of her voice.  Facing her fully, his eyes slithered hungrily down Sara’s body, digesting the implication of her unexpected presence there. 

“My dear Sara,” he said with velvety smoothness.
 
He extended his hand, inviting her to approach him.

She stepped into the room and placed her hand in his. 

Drawing her closer, he reached behind her to close the door.
 

Her thin body startled at the sound of the latch sliding into place.
 
The mew was dark with only the early morning sunlight seeping through the windows high above.
 
She fought the shiver that ran up and down her spine and glanced at the bolted door.
 
She was trapped now.
  

No, she reminded herself.
 
Not trapped, for this is what she wanted.
 
This is why she came here, was it not?

Lord Oakley turned her face towards him, his fingers light on her chin.
 
“I meant every word then as I do now.”  Gathering a handful of her hair, he placed it to his nose and inhaled deeply.  “So fresh.”  He fondled it between his thin fingers.  “So soft.”  He reached for the lace of her bodice and lingered there, reveling in her slight tremble.  “So very, very...womanly.”
 
He whispered the last word with the smooth voice of a hunter knowing his prey was within his grasp.

Sara looked up sharply.  “Womanly?”

A wicked smile crawled across his face as he drew her further into the darkest part of the room, backing her into a corner.  “I find you very beautiful, Sara,” he whispered.
 
“Much more beautiful than your sister.”

Sara’s face lit up in triumph.  Before she had a chance to respond, Lord Oakley’s lips fell eagerly upon hers, devouring their innocence.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as his lips raked against her neck and her throat.  His hands were everywhere all at once, wrenching her dress down to her waist. 

She gasped at the sudden coolness of the air upon her naked breasts and Lord Oakley’s wet tongue as he dragged it across her nipples.
 
Her fingernails bit into her palms as her hands clenched in response.  She felt helpless against his power, revolted by his foul breath, yet she was determined to stay still. 

She heard him curse beneath his breath as he fumbled with his breeches and chuckle as he set himself free.  She found strength by envisioning her sister’s face when she told Catherine her little sister was now a woman.
 
With a satisfied smile, she allowed him to lower her to the dirty straw-covered ground and closed her eyes against his grunts and groans, prepared to endure
his intrusion.

≈

Catherine awoke feeling devilishly happy.  Thoughts of her time aboard
La Helena
brought a blush to her cheeks.  She touched her lips, remembering how Jonathan had so gently taken them.  She could scarce remember a time that she had given in so completely to her desires.  She relived the pressure of his arms around her, the feel of his hair tangled in her fingers, the beating of his heart against her breast.  She had not known what a kiss could be until then.  She smiled to herself, feeling a little bit wicked. 
So unlike you, Lady Catherine.  What would they all think of you?
 

She laughed out loud as she reached above her head in a cat-like stretch.  Pushing the bedcovers away, she got out of bed and padded to the window.  The sun was already making its way up the sky.  Jonathan would have set sail by now, she mused.  So be it.  The passion they shared last night would sail away with him, their secret tossed to the wind and scattered across the waves.
 
The kiss she shared with Jonathan was the beginning of something new for her.
 
He found a passionate woman inside of her and skillfully coaxed her out.
 
Now she was certain that her relationship with Galen could be so much more and she was determined to bring the same spark to life between them.

The sound of clashing swords and the shouting of men in training made its way to Catherine’s window.  Below, Galen came into view carrying swords and lances towards the training ground.  Catherine leaned out of the window, “Galen!” she called to him. 

He looked up and smiled.
 
“Good morrow to you, Catherine!  It is almost midday!  I trust you are rested?”

She leaned forward a bit more, letting her hair cascade around her shoulders.
 
She smiled with satisfaction when she saw him pause, taking in her beauty and the sheerness of her nightgown.

His smile promptly faded as he looked quickly around him and then back to her.  “I pray you dress yourself, Catherine, with haste, lest you attract unwanted attention!”

Catherine laughed as she withdrew.
 
She summoned Emelie to draw a bath and turned her attention to selecting her gown, humming to herself as she rummaged through her trunk and then her wardrobe, ignoring the maid’s curious glances.  When the bath was steaming, Catherine abandoned her search, undressed, and lowered her body into the rose-scented water. 
 
Like a lover’s touch, the water inched its way up her legs, over her thighs, up to the cleft between her legs, the place that only just last night burned with need.
 
She sank lower to feel the caressing water cover her hips, her stomach, and her breasts before she finally leaned back, fully immersed.
 
The feel of Jonathan’s hands on her waist, his fingers stroking her back and arms was still etched in her mind as she smoothed the scented water over her ivory skin.
 
Why have I not felt like this before?
 
Her mind was alive with questions. 
How can a kiss, a mere touch, make me feel so alive?
  She took extra care to wash her hair until the rich color glimmered.
 
Perhaps all she needed was to be awakened to such sensations.
 
Yes, she was positive she could be with Galen and feel excitement and passion with him.
 
She would be happy to be his wife.
 

She quickly stood up and took the towel Emelie offered her as she stepped out of the tub.
 
She smiled.
 
Naughty Catherine.

Catherine rejected the dress Emelie had placed on the bed, choosing instead a gown fashioned in deep green fabric that fitted snugly about her waist.
 
The neckline scooped low to reveal the tops of her full breasts.
 

Emelie brushed Catherine’s hair and fluffed it until it was dry, fanning the locks over her shoulders and down her back.

Confidently, Catherine went to watch Galen and the other men training as they engaged in mock attacks. 

Unaware of her presence, Galen’s face was focused, intense, utterly engrossed.
 
His stance and his movements were smooth and graceful, but his muscled legs, wide shoulders and chest held restrained force, ready to react at any moment.

One by one, the men stopped their maneuvers and stared at her, their jaws slack and eyes round.  Galen, about to reprimand the men for stopping, saw Catherine and quickly turned to face his men.  “Rowan, stand in my stead.  The rest of you, carry on!”

Giving his sword to Rowan, his second in command, Galen quickly closed the distance between him and Catherine.  He stood before her, taking in the full length of her, his eyes reflecting a mix of approval and confusion.

Realizing the exercises had not yet resumed, he turned and cried, “Carry on, I said!”  Taking Catherine’s arm, he led her towards the garden.

“Such a beautiful day, is it not, Galen?” she asked, her voice lilting.
 
The sky, so brilliantly blue and the sun so gloriously bright, were no match for Catherine’s disposition this morning.

His eyes narrowed in response.
 
“You are in a fine mood.”

They walked a few minutes in silence.
 
She could feel Galen’s burning gaze on her, but she would not look at him.
 
She rather enjoyed seeing him a bit confused.

“What brought you to the training?” he asked.  “Is something amiss?”

“Do I need a reason to watch the men train?”
 
She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes.

He pondered her question.
 
“Nay, but you have never shown an interest before.”

“Then it is far past time I should, Galen.
 
After all, they are part of the family.”

“Family?”  Raised eyebrows betrayed his surprise.

She shook her head.  “Pay no mind.”  She hooked her arm through his and they walked in silence.

“I daresay the men saw a different Lady Catherine today,” he ventured at last.  “It seems your beauty had them mesmerized.”

“Hmm, I cannot say I noticed.” 
’Tis unladylike to flaunt yourself,
her mind chided.
 
Her heart paid no mind.
 
Ah, but you must admit that the feeling is simply delicious!
  

Galen stopped and turned her toward him, studying her face and hair.  His eyes followed the lines of her neck down to her shoulders and to her bodice.  She felt her body respond to his attention, with a quickened pulse and a tightening in her belly.  She lifted her chin with invitation.

His brooding eyes locked with hers, searching for an explanation.
 
Catherine did not miss the flicker of uncertainty that flashed before it melted into desire.
 
The way he cradled her face in his hands, so strong, so tender, took her breath away.