Miss Lavigne's Little White Lie (27 page)

He kissed her temple. “Are you all right?”

“
Oui.
” She wiggled her hips to find a more comfortable position.

Daniel sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes closed and ecstasy swept across his handsome features. Her pulse sped, and she shifted her hips again.

He stared down at her with passion darkening his eyes. “You’re the best thing ever to happen to me, Lis.”

She beamed with his compliment. Daniel began moving with caution, whispering endearments in her ear and kissing her as he slid in and out of her. Each movement began to feel more and more natural. She rocked her hips in rhythm with his, just as they had done when dancing.

“Yes, sweetheart, just like that.”

His hand cradled her bottom and tilted her hips to sink even deeper into her. Lisette lifted her face, and he ceased movements to kiss her with tenderness.

He brushed the hair from her eyes. “So perfect,” he murmured.

Her heart doubled in size, she was so filled with love for him.

Daniel shifted his weight to his knees and pulled her down the bed to bury himself within her again. His thumb brushed her spot and pleasure shot through her limbs, making her fingers and toes tingle. With each slow thrust, he stroked, bringing her closer and closer to coming.

Another sweep and thrust sent her soaring high over the summit, springing into the clouds with a joyful cry.

Daniel hugged her tight against his chest, twined his fingers with her hair, and pumped harder and faster. His vigorous movements were possessive and thrilling. She smiled and licked her lips.

“Ah, Lis, yes.”

He issued a strangled call with his head tossed back. A moment later, he rolled to his back, pulling her with him, and collapsed into the mattress. Lisette laid her cheek against his chest and listened to his solid and strong heartbeat. She placed a kiss over his heart. Some day it would belong to her. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Twenty-four

Serafine glanced wistfully as Amelia’s hand clutched her rounded belly. “I declare, this child is a natural-born pugilist like his father,” her friend said, a blissful smile softening her expression.

“Is he kicking again?”

“He has enlisted the aid of his elbows and knees this time. My gullet will be black and blue before he is birthed.”

They were ensconced in Amelia’s quarters, embroidering dressing gowns for the child. Serafine had grown to care for her companion over the past weeks, and with Lisette favoring the company of her husband, Serafine and Amelia had become each other’s confidants.

Serafine didn’t begrudge Lisette her happiness with Captain Hillary. Quite the opposite. She rejoiced in seeing her younger cousin settled into an advantageous union. Serafine no longer worried for any of their futures. Regretting she would never have the same opportunity as Lisette wasn’t the same as envy, was it?

Jabbing the needle through the simple frock, she frowned. Serafine would never know the honor of being a wife or the joy of motherhood. She had thrown away her aspirations four months prior, gambling on a man who had later broken her heart. She was a fool.

“You’re fortunate to be loved,” Serafine said. “To have your whole life ahead of you with a child on the way.”

Amelia glanced up from her task. “Don’t allow the lack of eligible gentlemen aboard the
Cecily
to discourage you, dearest. We will arrive in England any day.”

“I don’t expect my prospects will improve in London.”

Her friend nibbled her bottom lip as she concentrated on making a perfect stitch. “It’s true it’s late in the season, but I am certain a few good men have held out for someone more to their liking. We’ll call on Bibi the moment we arrive. My dear friend will have the latest
on
dit
concerning the marriage mart.”

Serafine inwardly shuddered. She could never enter the marriage market given her state of impurity. Deception at any stage of marriage seemed a recipe for doom. There was no sense in engaging in pretense with Amelia either.

Serafine cleared her throat and focused on the delicate white fabric and light blue stitching. “I won’t be entering the marriage market.”

“Why ever not? I thought you wished to wed and have children.”

“I do, but just because a fish wishes to be a bird and sprout wings doesn’t make it possible.”

Amelia clucked her tongue. “I hardly think of you as one given to nonsense. A fish with wings? Stop speaking as if you’re an anomaly. You are a lovely, engaging young lady, and there will be a gentleman to fall for you. You will see.”

Serafine abandoned the tiny garment on her lap. “Even if that were so, and I doubt the validity of your claim, I couldn’t possibly marry.”

Tossing her embroidery on the table, Amelia huffed. “I take umbrage, mademoiselle. Have I ever been known to tell a falsehood? And why can’t you marry?”

Serafine’s cheeks heated when confronted by her friend’s aggrieved glower. “You couldn’t possibly understand. Look at you.” She flung her hand up and down from Amelia’s head to toes. “You’re exquisite with your flaxen hair and ivory complexion. You’re the epitome of a lady.” Her voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes.

She covered her sob with her palm and turned away in mortification. Never had she shed tears in another person’s company, aside from Lisette.

Amelia’s chair legs scraped against the planks as she staggered to her feet. “Serafine.”

Her compassionate tone ripped open the wound in Serafine’s heart she had thought almost healed.

Amelia patted her shoulder then rounded the chair to hug her. “Dear girl, you cannot think poorly of yourself based on your coloring.”

Resentment surged within Serafine’s chest, making it tight and her shoulders stiff. “And why not? Others take no issue with devaluing me based on my outer appearance.”

“Tell me who,” Amelia demanded. “Daniel will have him quartered and fed to the fish.”

Serafine recoiled. “Blessed be! No one on ship. The captain wouldn’t really do such a horrible thing, would he?”

Amelia’s lips twitched. “I have never known him to dole out such severe punishments. But it sounds frightening, no? He should add it to his repertoire of threats.”

Serafine released a breathy chuckle and wilted on her chair. Her head dropped forward, and she contemplated the mess that had become her life.

Amelia dragged her seat closer and sat. Their knees almost touched. “I can see your heart is breaking. Won’t you share what makes you suffer so?”

Having never spoken of her shame to anyone, Serafine’s secrets weighed on her. Her leaden limbs sagged, and her chest felt crushed under the heavy burden. She looked into Amelia’s caring face, and all she wanted to do was release her painful past.

“His name was Isaac Tucker.”

Amelia nodded, her expression one of graveness. “There is always one who breaks a poor lady’s heart.”

Her friend was too kind, and a consummate liar. “You have never suffered a broken heart.”

“I have
too
had my heart broken. By my husband, of all gentlemen. His rejection devastated me, and I suffered for nearly a year.”

Serafine gulped. Heavens, if Amelia could suffer heartache, anyone was at risk.

“But as you can see, even hopeless situations have a way of correcting themselves,” Amelia said with a soft smile. “You may or may not have a future with your Mr. Tucker, but you cannot give up on love.”

Serafine lifted one shoulder, willing to give lip service only to her friend’s declaration. “I’m sure you are correct.”

Amelia’s arched brows lifted. “Mr. Tucker is from New Orleans, I take it?”

“
Oui.
” Serafine had never traveled farther than two miles outside of the city.

“I see. And does he show a fondness for architecture?”

Serafine’s eyes narrowed. Had he returned to America without her knowledge? “You’ve met Mr. Tucker?”

Amelia pursed her lips and screwed them to the side then back again as she seemed to mull over her response. She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “We met in London a few days before the
Cecily
departed for New Orleans. If memory serves, the gentleman was traveling to Edinburgh next, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has returned to Town. He seemed quite enamored of the architecture.”

Isaac had been in England? But he was to be on the Continent. Her stomach churned as her imagination ran wild with possibilities.
Mon
dieu, Serafine. Have you learned nothing?

She picked up her embroidery again and sniffed. “With any luck, our paths shall never cross.”

***

Daniel leaned back in his chair and kicked his boots up on the desk with a contented sigh. He was supposed to be reviewing the logbook and finalizing documents for their arrival, but his wife proved as distracting in the other cabin as she was when in his office.

Lisette’s sweet voice lifted in song and drifted through the open doorway. He could close the door and mute the disruption to some degree, but he enjoyed listening to her. She was singing a French folk song, but a moment ago, she had belted out a gospel hymn that had his toe tapping.

With a low growl of frustration, he eyed his ledger. He must complete his work now, or he would be up half the night when he would prefer to retire with Lisette. Twirling the quill between his fingers, he conjured an image of his wife dressed in her maidenly cotton nightrail and smiled. She had proven herself a pleasing bed partner in many ways, and her innocent eagerness to learn aroused him more than the most experienced of courtesans ever could.

He had happily indulged her curiosity by teaching her common terminology for body parts and the acts of copulation itself. When her full lips had formed the word “cock” the first time, it had sounded both sweet and vulgar. Daniel had employed every bit of willpower not to urge the lesson in a completely inappropriate direction.

Devil
take
it!
She was his wife, good and proper. He would do well to remember the fact and treat her as such.

Daniel swung his legs from the desk and leapt from his chair to close the door, but he halted at the threshold. Lisette sat at the table with Rafe, concentrating on the pieces of ropes in her hands. She had taken to practicing knots with her brother every day, encouraging him to demonstrate the square knot, figure eight, and thumb knot while she imitated his movements. Lisette’s patience seemed endless as she attended to her brother’s strict routines without complaint, and her devotion was reaping marked results.

Rafe leaned his head against her shoulder. “Right over left. Left over right,” he recited.

Lisette tied a passable square knot then held it out for Rafe’s inspection. The lad lifted his face and smiled at his sister. “Splendid work, Lisette.”

Daniel suppressed a chuckle as Rafe parroted his sister’s words of praise usually reserved for him.

She wrapped an arm around his bony shoulders and planted a kiss atop his head. “You are kind, monsieur.”

Rafe didn’t shy away from her embrace, as he tended to do at the start of their journey.

Daniel’s gut contracted and the smile fell from his face. Lisette would make an excellent mother. She already was the perfect mother figure to Rafe. They hadn’t discussed children, but Daniel had taken no precautions. What if she opposed the idea as vehemently as Cecily had?

He gave himself a mental shake. Lisette was reasonable, loving, and thoughtful. She didn’t possess an ounce of vanity. She would welcome his issue when the time came.

Daniel leaned against the doorjamb to observe Lisette and Rafe further. Neither one looked up from their tasks. This was his family, the ones he cared for most. They were his to protect, and each day they drew closer to England lessened his fears that they might not survive the journey. And once he had them back on solid ground, he would never allow either of them to step foot on the
Cecily
again.

The boards creaked as he shifted his weight and Lisette’s head swung around. Her rose-colored lips curved into a charming smile, and his pulse launched into a frenzied rush of desire.

“The air is cooler as we approach England,” she said. “I fear I might catch my death in London before we set sail for warmer climes again.”

Daniel pushed from his slouch and wandered to the table to place his hands on her shoulders. She lifted her face, and he kissed the tip of her nose. “I shall endeavor to find ways to shelter you from the chill, luv.”

“Will we be long in London?”

He slid into the hard wooden seat beside her and scooped up her ropes, turning the knot to inspect it. “Not bad.”

She beamed as if he had paid her a real compliment, such as bestowing upon her the designation of an Incomparable, which she was to him at least. He had never known a woman like her, and he possessed no desire to seek out another to test his hypothesis.