Virgin Star (19 page)

A warm firm mouth covered hers. He pulled back slightly. "Open up, Shalyn," he whispered huskily as he gently bit her lower lip. "The business works best with two people participating.''

She gasped with a sudden deep breath, her lips parting with an invitation. Seanessy did not waste

the gesture. A cry sounded in her throat as she felt the gentle molding of his mouth on hers, the warm intrusion of his tongue. The slight tremble of her lips, like an uncertain cry, told him she was indeed a novice at this, and with effort, he called upon all the gentleness he knew.

So tenderly did he first kiss her, she felt a strange sense of wonder, mixed potently with some small distress, which he answered with the sensual press of mouth, deepening, fueling a tingling warmth surging from far inside, growing, spreading, until—

The pleasure magnified as his tongue teased with a beguiling eroticism that sent her into a soft swoon, melting and helpless. He broke the kiss but did not release her. "Dear Lord," he said, brushing his lips against hers, "you taste like warmth and sunshine. Shalyn," he said her name. "Shalyn ..."

He kissed her again, deeply and yet gently, and somewhere in the space and wonder of this kiss, he had lifted her up, while pressing her tighter to him. Quite suddenly it changed.

Her consciousness riveted to the heat there, to the press of his hand on the small of her back as he forced her against him there—

She panicked, braced for the rutting, the terrifying rutting—

Seanessy felt the exact moment he lost her. A bucket of ice water might have just fallen over her head. He lifted partially from her to stare into the dark pools of her eyes.

"What's this, Shalyn?"

She bit her lip, anxiety changing her face. He peered through the darkness to see the unexpected emotion. "What were you thinking to make you suddenly afraid?"

"I ... I thought you would... you know…" She couldn't finish. She suddenly remembered a surge of

dread, a feeling of helplessness as hands came to her person ...

"I'm afraid I don't."

She searched his face. "I can't say it."

"Why not?"

"It shames me."

"Just give 'it' a name—" He abruptly recalled, "Oh wait. I remember. You called it 'rutting, am I right?"

"I don't mind when you kiss me," she whispered, her hand touching her lips where she felt the lingering sensations.

A bemused smile changed his face as he wondered at an honesty as beguiling as her innocence.

"But I don't like the rest."

He considered her for a moment. "More than that, it seems. The rest frightens you, a bit more than a virgin's fear too, I'd wager. Do you remember an unpleasant experience?"

As he asked the question, he watched her hand wrap around her wrist, rubbing. "I don't remember, Seanessy! I remember feeling ... helpless, and I don't know! If s all so vague."

With his own alarm, he took her delicate wrists in his hands, studying them, as if he could see marks left from ropes. Someone had tied her up. Strong warm fingers gently soothed and stroked the trembling limbs as he forced himself to remain calm, marveling that he could. "So tell me, Shalyn: just what is it you know about the physical play between a man and a woman?"

She felt so curiously, disastrously close to tears. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and shook her head.

"Shalyn, I need to know. I want to know what has happened to you."

"I don't know, Seanessy!"

"Tell me this then: what is it you imagine happens after kissing?"

She held herself against a chill. "Mating."

"Mating, another fine euphemism. Shalyn," he began, his voice gentle, his tone quite frank. "You can believe there is nothing you can say to me I haven't heard before. Look at me, child: they are just words. Words have no potency unless matched by action. I'm trying to figure out what happened to you. Tell me what you imagine, ah, mating is?" He hid his fear of her answer, if there was an answer. "Do you even know?"

"Mating is ... well, when a man tries to fit, fit that part of his body into the woman. It doesn't usually work, I know. It doesn't work, when somehow... I don't know! I know people who have children have made it work somehow but I ..."

"You suffer a deformity!" '

Seanessy’s brows crossed as his mind raced over this, placing her words alongside the exclamation and creating a telling picture. Some man must have tied her up—-no doubt to avoid the girl's remarkable ability to defend herself, only to find himself unable to perform. "Dear Lord." He managed to temper the violence of his emotion, but it was hard. "You know, I can hardly wait to meet your past, Shalyn. I believe it will be a singular pleasure." He bent over and retrieved her hat. "Here, Shalyn. Can you walk still? Good. We are already quite late. Now let me attempt to explain a few facts to you—"

"Facts?" she questioned as they resumed walking, her mind settling uneasily on the subject. "You mean about ... mating?"

"Why not?" He grinned as he gently placed a protective arm around her shoulder. "I've always been quite certain that knowledge is both liberating and enlightening. Every young woman should be fully informed on the subject of physical intimacies between men and women, if only to save her the shock of her wedding night. So let’s see…”

Shalyn listened intently as he began his explanation, not realizing how the arresting conversation eased her from the terror of an experience she somehow couldn't remember. but nonetheless felt its lingering effects. Of course she knew most of what he told her, except for the disconcerting parts where apparently her experience had led her astray, despite her maddening failure to remember what that experience was. That was a surprise. To her credit, she only started blushing when he finally got explained certain variations, and she realized she was imagining these things with Seanessy. Her heartbeat grew more rapid, and she swallowed as she turned the startling images around in her mind:

"Does everyone do that?"

"Aye." He chuckled at her surprise. "Adam and Eve were only the first. Now I see an enlightened— very!—expression on your face. I suppose I can rest assured the remaining parts of your education will come the old-fashioned way."

They came out of the park and onto the street, and Seanessy began pointing out the sights as they walked into the London night. She forgot all about their conversation and only because the London night was a marvel to her. London! Carriages and riders made their way along the street even at this late hour. People congregated outside taverns and eating establishments. The faint scent of roasting pork reached the street, mingling with the pungent odor of chimney smoke. A boy standing on the corner hawked newspapers. Another man stood on a crate and with Bible in hand, shouted verses at the indifferent passersby. A group of young boys taunted the poor man, and he turned his ferocious passion on them.

A couple strolled arm in arm nearby, laughing at some shared amusement, and she studied the woman's slow unhurried gait, her fine and pretty clothes: a pale rose-velvet cloak and matching hat, a fetching parasol used in the night as a walking stick. She caught sight of a white-clothed chef standing in the alley for a breath of cool air as they passed— everything and everyone was a source of fascination to her.

Which Seanessy noticed. "So you don't remember ever being in London before, Shalyn?"

She shook her head. Seeing this brief glimpse of its famous nightlife and hearing the raised English voices still felt exciting, foreign, and new to her. She had the strangest sense that she had been here once long ago. She must have been here as a child. The image of the lovely Tudor-style house rose in her mind's eye again and she was about to tell him this, but they turned down the gravel road leading to the famous hotel, the Connaught.

The Connaught rose six stories, one of the tallest buildings in London, its ornate carved-stone facade a tribute to modern architecture. Golden light came from any number of the windows. Seanessy greeted the grooms pleasantly before turning to warn her.

"Shalyn," he whispered as they started up the stairs. "Show me some mercy here from your, ah, warring countenance. Grant me a truce, if only temporary. Mind everything I say, without exception, no matter if you don't understand. For your own safety. Will you, Shalyn?"

Cautioned by the rare seriousness of his tone, she nodded. "Aye." The last thing she wanted was someone's—anyone's!—attention. He swung his cape off his shoulders and placed it about hers, watched how it enveloped her shoulder to toes. The wide-brimmed hat covered her head and shielded her face.

She looked as if she were masquerading and was pleased with the effect. He pulled the hat down a bit. Butcher already waited with Kyler. Seanessy took Shalyn by the arm and escorted her up the wide steps to the front doors.

The moment they swept into the brightly lit space of the entrance hall, everything became a blur of movement. The doorman greeted Seanessy, who dismissed the necessity of the doorman leading him to the waiting tables in the game room.

Shalyn's gaze swept the rich place, its dark polished furnishings, the magnificent chandeliers with the new modern gas lights ingeniously shaped like candles. Men she recognized from Seanessy's ship approached and surrounded him as they moved down the hall.

"The place is swarming with 'em, Cap'n. A head count of fifty-five."

"His apartment number?"

"The entire second and third floor—the duke is residing in twenty-seven, -eight, and -nine, ye know— the north suite. Two men posted at the door—"

"Only two?"

"Dogs inside, Sean—trained killers by the looks of em.

"Dogs? Well, Butcher, take a turn through the kitchen. Now." Seannessy stopped and turned to the men as they approached the crowded hall where music and raised masculine voices drifted to them. "I want humiliation made worse with no bloodshed—"

"No bloodshed? And so how do we get Butcher through the door?"

"Which lovely ladies are working the house tonight?"

"Oh, I've seen Kelly, Teresa, and Mary—"

"Fetch Mary, will you. That lady's ample charms can take out the men without a shot fired—'tis the oldest trick in the book. She lures the beggar down the hall where you wait, then her scream draws out the other."

Butcher nodded. "Let me do the rest, Sean. I'll need the master key."

"Tell our dear concierge it's for a charitable cause and hand him a donation," Sean said. "Oh yes, and for the little beasts, those dogs of his: send someone to the ship for those miniature barrels—you know, Oly's mugs—and set these around their scruffy necks." The other men laughed, interrupting him midsentence, and Sean chuckled too. "And a bouquet of flowers with my card should be just the thing to draw him out for an introduction."

"Aye, aye." The men rushed off.

Shalyn didn't understand a word they said, but then she wasn't thinking of it as they turned a corner and Seanessy's arm swept her into a wide open space. Tables crowded the hall. Men gathered at the white-linen-covered tables with cards and dice and chess sets; drinks of ale, port, and whiskey; decorated bowls of fruit and cheese; and plates of bread. An enormous counter ran along the opposite wall, where four men rushed to fill drink orders. The greatest novelty was the wall behind the counter. Shalyn stared into the longest looking glass she had ever seen, the mirror running the entire length of the bar, reflecting the room. Musicians serenaded the patrons from the corner, the gay melody drowned in the boisterous noise of the men.

She realized with some astonishment that a good portion of the men here were Seanessy's from his ship. Men called exchanged greetings. Slight movements brought Shalyn's keen gaze to the far corner where, oblivious to the plotting and seemingly in deep commune, Frenchmen gathered at four of the tables. Seanessy conferred in whispers with a group of men, some familiar, and just when she imagined he had quite forgotten her presence, one of the men appeared at her side. "Shalyn, our beautiful young troublemaker!"

Her amber eyes greeted the handsome young man. Richards. Bright blue eyes danced with excitement and merriment. He sported two ivory-handled pistoles as well. "May I escort you out of the way? The captain wants you seated around the corner. If you will." He motioned with a sweep of his hands.

A swift pang of disappointment surged through her. She hesitated briefly. Surprised by the power of the desire, she very much wanted to watch Seanessy and see what was going to happen. Richards gently took her arm, leading her around the corner. He obsequiously fetched her a chair and set it against the wall.

Shalyn sat down reluctantly only to realize she stared straight ahead into the long mirror. She had the best seat in the house, a front row seat for the theatrics in the room. She bit her lip as her interested gaze peeked from behind the hat, only to see Seanessy laughing as he sat at a table with Kyler, Ham, two well-dressed men, and the three men wearing the dark blue uniforms of British naval officers. One of these men was no less than, "An admiral!" She noted the round face, heavy jowls, long sideburns, and graying sides, neatly cropped hair. "Richards, is that not the gold braid and uniform of a British admiral?"