Caversham's Bride (The Caversham Chronicles - Book One) (22 page)

But Lia was different. How could this slip of a girl, willful though she may be, evoke such emotion in him? In sleep, she appeared an innocent angel. Her long, dark lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. How well he knew the unique shade of green hiding behind those lids. It had haunted his every waking moment from the first time he saw her.

It wasn’t going to be easy, but he had to apologize to her. At least he had to if he wanted again what they’d shared before.

The next morning, Ren returned to the cabin after he’d breakfasted, heard the damage reports, and checked their coordinates and speed. He found the books had been put away, and Lia sitting in a chair under the open windows, an open book of poetry in her hands. She stood immediately and closed her book.

How was he going to open a conversation with her? How could he tell her he was truly sorry for what he’d done? He sat on the edge of the bed, unable to look at her. With his elbows on his knees, he dropped his head in his hands and covered his eyes, wondering where to begin. Lia spoke first, relieving him of his ice-breaking burden.

“Thank you for saving us last night,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, still unable to meet her direct gaze or speak the words he wanted so much to say. Instead, he said, “Lia, I wish to apologize for my behavior.”

“It is forgiven.”

His head snapped up, shocked that she would so readily forgive when he’d behaved so boorishly. “Why?”

“I’ve had a lot of time alone here. Time to think. I know my actions were partially to blame for your anger.” She lifted her eyes to his. “But, Your Grace, there is much I do not understand.”

He nodded. “Myself as well. I’ve never been in this situation before, so we both are treading new ground here. My head tells me I’ve made a horrendous mistake in forcing you to remain with me but,” he looked away and heaved an exhausted sigh. “I can’t let you go.”

“Seeing as we are now bound eternally,” Lia said, “I would that we have an amiable relationship.”

Ren stood and paced the expanse of the small cabin, he glanced at her and nodded, agreeing with her assessment for the future, but still he needed to explain. “You see, a part of me knew this wouldn’t work,” he said. “I was admittedly taken by your looks, so much so that I was willing to hope you might....” He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stop the headache that was building. “They do things differently in Morocco, and I cannot blame my friends for talking me into keeping you.” He met her gaze directly, hoping she might see the remorse in his heart. “In actuality the decision was, and always had been, mine.”

“I see.”

He held up his hand to silence her, wanting to complete his thought. “I don’t think you do. Please, hear me out.”

Lia leaned against the carved head of the bed, and took a deep breath. She lifted her gaze to meet his, signaling him to continue. He asked her a few questions to see what she remembered. Upon realizing she had virtually no recollection of anything prior to waking in the harem, he decided to fill her in about their first “meeting,” the events which followed, and his reasons for doing what he did.

“Thank you for caring,” she said. “Not very many people would involve themselves in something so dangerous.”

He nodded, accepting her gratitude. He began to pace the width of the cabin, trying to find the courage to continue, worried he was just going to anger her as he had before.

“The night you were released from the harem, when you appeared educated and refined enough to pass as.... as.... a proper wife to someone like myself, and you said you were a gentleman’s daughter, and that you had a brother.... Well, that’s when I conceived our
arrangement
. Regardless of what you believed, or heard, I never intended anything other than marriage, as it is the only way to have an heir whose legitimacy will never be questioned.”

He stood again and walked to the bank of windows and stared at the watery horizon.

“The reasons I purchased you and married you are still the same. I need an heir, and yes, I considered sending you back to your country after you gave me that heir. But that was only if we did not get along.” He stopped at an open window and sighed. He searched her face for understanding, forgiveness, and thought he saw a glimpse of something to grasp and nurture. “There are moments when I think there is a spark of something that a relationship might be built upon.

“What I did was wrong. Never, in any of this plotting, did I consider your feelings, or think that I might come to care about....” Ren broke off unable to continue, wondering what she was thinking. When she said nothing he turned to continue staring out the window. Willing to turn the boats around and head back to Italy if she asked.

Lia came to stand next to him at the bank of windows. “I keep thinking about something Maysun told me when we were in the harem.” He felt her hand on his back, and the warmth of her heart seeped into his skin to soothe his troubled soul. Her touch was a balm to him. Her forgiveness could heal him. “She told me that I could be as happy as I allowed myself to be.” He couldn’t respond, still somewhat afraid of what she might say. “I have accepted my fate because now I have made a vow before God, albeit unwillingly, to have you as my husband.

“I know you do not love me, but is it possible for us to live out our days in a companionable partnership? I will bear your heir and any other children you wish. Just don’t take them from me. Because even though they are yet to be born, I know I will love them.”

He swallowed past the lump in his throat, turned, nodded and quickly left the room.

C
HAPTER
T
WELVE

T
hat afternoon, as Lia tied the end of her braid with the leather strap, there was a knock on the cabin door. Rising from the chair, she pulled up the neckline of her dress, uncomfortable at having so much of her chest exposed, and smoothed the wrinkles from the mint green muslin with her hands. She opened the door to find the wrinkled and weathered face of Angus. His hazel eyes softened, and he smiled. Lia hoped it was a sign that all was well above deck.

“I’ve returned to fetch yer tray, and to tell ye that the lad says he’ll be takin’ ye above deck for a stroll in a bit. The sunshine and fresh air will do ye good.” He collected her tray and mug. “It’s not right for a person to be cooped up, never gettin’ any sunshine. I said as much to him, and this time I seem to ha’ got through.”

The old man left the cabin, and Lia wondered about him. He openly called her husband ‘the lad’ or used his Christian name, both of which told her he had some relationship or influence over her new husband, even if it was minor. She considered it a blessing to have someone aboard this vessel who was sympathetic to her desires for fresh air and sunshine, and said a quick prayer of thanks.

She didn’t have time to consider the gray-haired Angus long, because her husband soon opened the door and stood in the entryway. Their eyes met, and his warmed to a molten silver as his gaze caressed her body from head to toe. He smiled a slow, lazy grin that sent a shiver coursing through her body. He’d had the same look in his eyes once before—in the palace, the night he took her to his bed for the first time.

“I thought you might like to take a stroll above,” he said, his voice soft and deep. “The weather is fine and
Sea Witch
is just off the port side. She’s probably close enough to see your brother making mischief on deck.”

“Really? How is he?” She ran to the trunk and grabbed the light shawl draped over the lid. Wrapping it about her shoulders, she nearly knocked Ren over in her rush to get topside. She chattered nervously as she practically ran up the gangway stairs. “I was afraid for him last night, weathering the storm all alone. I’d wanted to ask you about him, but....”

Up on deck, the brilliant sunshine blinded her. She squinted, shading her eyes with her hand. After being in the cabin for two full days, her eyes took a while to adjust to the direct light. Ren took her hand as he led her the rest of the way to the port rail on the main deck. He pointed out Luchino next to the forward mast. Her brother was seated on a stool working on something she couldn’t identify.

“If I know Cully, he’s got the lad practicing knots,” Ren explained. “He says the boy wants to be a sailor.”

Lia looked up at Ren, her expression serious, “Oh, no. I have other plans for him. Luchino will go to a university and make something of his life.”

“Of course he will,” Ren said. “But don’t deny the boy his dreams. He’s still very young.”

She smiled as she watched her brother attentively work rope in his hands. A wave sent her back into Ren’s chest, and as she moved to distance herself, his arm kept her in place. Her brother lost his seat when the same wave hit
Sea Witch
then scrambled to regain it.

She tilted her head back to look up at him. “My brother doesn’t swim well. I’m concerned for his safety.”

“Cully is keeping a close eye on him—which in itself is a tedious job. Your brother has a tendency toward mischief I hear.”

Lia smiled at Ren, remembering what a handful Luchino had been back in Naples before their parents’ death. “He hasn’t had much laughter in his life since Mama and Papa died. It was difficult to keep his mood up during the time we were in Genoa. My cousin Ugo is much older than Luchino, and teased him mercilessly. My brother’s spirit had been beaten so low that he rarely left the nursery without me or Maura at his side.”

“The boy’s doing fine over there.” Ren nodded his head toward
Sea Witch
, “With Cully and his crew. The men have taken to calling him Lucky because very few can pronounce his name.”

“Maybe Luchino’s English will improve, since he is immersed with a crew that doesn’t speak Italian.”

“Cully is able to understand your brother well enough. The other men likely have a harder time.”

Just then the two ships pulled within shouting distance and Ren whistled a high piercing sound, causing Lia to put her hands over her ears. Cully and another man came to their starboard rail.

“Get the boy,” he shouted to the men on the other ship.

Before long, her brother stood at the rail and waved to her. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Are you having as much fun as I am?”

“Oh, yes! Why just this morning I read another book of poetry.”

“Yuk! I climbed part way up the main mast yesterday before the storm.” Her brother pointed at the tallest center mast. “I would have gone all the way up, but someone stopped me.”

Lia’s heart fell into her stomach. So much for Cully watching her brother. She made herself a promise that if they made it to England safely, she would never let him get into anything even remotely dangerous again.

“Be careful, Luchino!”

“I will, I will,” the boy replied.

Her brother turned and went back to his post near the forward mast, where he continued practicing his knots.

“Please take care of him,” she said to Cully as the two ships pulled further apart.

The other captain bowed, and shouted, “My men and I are doin’ our best to keep Lucky safe, Your Grace.”

She turned a curious green-eyed gaze to Ren. “Why do they address you? He’s my brother, the man can speak to me.”

He chuckled and said, “He was speaking to you, Your Grace.” Awareness dawned, turning her cheeks that endearing shade of pink. “You will grow accustomed to your new title, wife, hopefully before we arrive in England.”

Ren guided her away from the rail and led her up into the rear of the ship, where she leaned against the railing of the wheel deck. He dismissed the helmsman and took the wheel. Lia looked around and saw that they were alone.

Ren held a hand out to her. Sensing he needed something from her to move forward in their unconventional relationship, she slowly, almost hesitantly, placed her hand into it. He brought her close, positioning her in front of him, between his body and the wheel. With this man, Lia felt a deep sense of security she hadn’t had in nearly a year. A wave rocked the boat and before she fell forward and hit the wheel with her body, Ren’s arm wrapped around her again, holding her steady. She held onto his forearm, and after the wave passed, she lifted his left hand off her waist and studied it closely. Dry patches and calluses dotted his palm at the base of the fingers, and up toward their tips. She rubbed her fingertips over them softly, as if committing the feel of the rough spots to memory.

“How did you get these?” she asked.

“From holding the wheel. It can get difficult to manage during a storm.”

“Like last night?”

“Yes.”

She rested against him in silence for a while, relishing the tenuous truce they’d come to.

He took his hand from hers and rested the broad palm flat against her lower belly, pulling her close, holding her possessively. She closed her eyes, and drew a deep, nervous breath, as her body reacted to his closeness. Her womb clenched beneath his warm palm, and she felt her core grow moist. Her breasts ached for his touch. And she wasn’t the only one becoming aroused, she thought, as she felt his swelling manhood pressing into her low back.

With one arm holding her securely and the other on the wheel, her new husband lowered his face into her hair. She heard him slowly breathe in, felt his chest expand, then the distinct sensation of him pressing his lips on her head.