Read DD-Michaels-END.rtf Online
Authors: The Dangerous Debutante
And the minutes dragged on. Became an hour.
"Papa? Do you think they met with any trouble?"
"Difficult to say. But nothing Courtland and the men couldn't handle, I'm sure. Ah, good morning, Eleanor."
"Good morning, Papa," Eleanor said, then smiled at Morgan. "Going out for a ride, Morgan?"
"No,
I
—
w
hat are you doing out here?"
"Worrying, along with everyone else." She raised her arm, pointing toward the horizon. "Is that a sail?"
"Where?" Morgan stood on tiptoe, knowing that was a silly, useless thing to do, and shaded her eyes as she squinted toward the horizon. Her heart was pounding, her breathing uneven. Where she had always felt confidence when the Black Ghost Gang rode, now all she could feel was fear. How did
her papa stand it, each time Courtland and the others went out on a
run? "I don't see anything, E
ll
y. Papa, do you see an
y
—
o
h, wait! T
h
ere!
There!"
"Morgan, stay here," Eleanor said quickly. "I know you want to run down there, but you really should remain here an
d
—"
Morgan didn't hear why Elly thought she should remain on the terrace, and she didn't much care, either, as she ran down the stone stairs and onto the rough stones th
a
t separated Becket Hall from the sand and water.
Only when she'd reached the hard-packed wet sand and turned toward the small village that had been built for the men and women who had come with them
from the island did it occur to her that Eleanor might have been warning her away in case there were injuries aboard the
Respite.
Injuries, and worse.
Morgan stopped on the sand, her breathing now ragged with fear rather than exertion, and waited as the sloop tacked toward the natural harbor.
"Be all right, be all right, please be all right," she murmured over and over again as the
Respite's
anchor finally appeared, sliding into the water, and men climbed into the rigging to lower the white sails.
A lifetime later, as Morgan walked slowly, hesitantly toward the village, the first longboat made its way back to shore, loaded with the men from the
Respite.
Morgan walked faster, faster, and then broke into a run when she saw Ethan climb out of the longboat
,
walking the last few yards through the thigh
-
deep water.
"Ethan!"
He looked up just in time to see Morgan running toward him full-tilt
,
her long
dark
hair flying out behind her as she launched herself at him, clinging to
his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He spun in a circle, mostly to help balance himself, and allowed Morgan's kisses on his face, his hair, his throat
,
before she leaned slightly away from him, still with her legs clamped around his waist.
"You're bleeding," she said, touching her fingers to his temple.
"Nothing fatal, Morgan," he assured her as she looked to be torn between worrying about him and wanting to beat on him for daring to worry her. He'd both hoped for and had expected no less from this woman; his woman. "Some wood splintered thanks to a lucky shot from a French cannon and hit me, that's all. I'm fine. We're all relatively fine, and Marianna's safely on her way home, the Stars and Stripes already hoisted high. An amazing sight. It was all amazing."
"There was a fight? You were shot at?"
Ethan wanted to remind Morgan that he'd been out on the water all night, and he wouldn't mind if she stood on her own now, but she was wiping at his face, bemoaning the streaks of smoke and gunpowder.
And then he nearly staggered to the ground as Spencer Becket walked past him, delivering a considerable slap to his back as he said, "Well done! Welcome to the family, Ethan. Morgan
,
for God's sake, get down off the man. You look a proper idiot."
Morgan dropped her feet onto the sand, but didn't let go. "Spence approves? What did you do, Ethan?"
"Nothing nobody else did." Ethan told her, grinning. "God, Morgan, it was magnificent. We laid back, waited for the
Mariann
a
to make her break into open water, and then swooped down on the Frenchman when he showed himself. Cut him off, turned him, chased him halfway to hell, and then took him down. Courtland was magnificent, you should be very proud of your brother, all your brothers. Jacko kissed Court on the head when it was over, and then someone broke out some rum for everyone."
Morgan looked at this man she loved, and sighed. "Oh, God. And you're happy, aren't you? Nearly delirious with it. I suppose you'll want to do this again, won't you?"
"If the occasion rises, yes," Ethan told her, then became serious. "At the moment, however, we have something else to discuss, as I seem to remember a proposal we're still lacking."
"Good God, man, what are you doing!" Morgan glared down at Ethan, who had
gone down on one
knee in the wet sand, and then at the crowd of men and women from
the village, all of them congregated on the shoreline, and most of them looking at her and Ethan.
"Get up you idiot," she warned quietly. "Everyone's watching. Oh, God
,
here come Papa and Eleanor."
"Good. The more the merrier," Ethan told her, taking Morgan's hand in his as he smiled up at her. "And now, Miss Becket, having the permission of your esteemed fathe
r
—
a
nd Spence
r
—
a
nd cognizant as I am of the dubious honor I am bestowing on you, will you marry me?"
"I can't believe you're doing this," Morgan said, her gaze meeting that of Jacko, who was grinning at her even as he
used a large handkerchief to wipe grime and sweat from his face.
"Neither can I, imp, so hurry up and say yes, before I change my mind."
Morgan looked down at him. "You wouldn't dare."
"No, I wouldn't. Say yes, Morgan. I love you more than I need my next breath."
"I love
you, too, Ethan Tanner," Morgan said quietly. "Yes, I'll marry you. I'll even live in your drafty castle. Now stand up and kiss me."
"I can see I'll be hen-pecked for the next fifty years, if I'm lucky," Ethan said, getting to his feet once more. His hands cupping her face, he then did as he'd been ordered
,
as Morgan slid her arms up and around his neck and he gathered her more fully against him.
There were a few cheers, a faint spattering of clapped hands, and
then everyone went
back
to their own business as the sun rose more fully into the sky, as gulls laughed overhea
d
—
e
ven as Morgan and Ethan slipped away, hand-in-hand, not
to
be seen for the remainder of the
day.
EPILOGUE
Morgan half-sat against several pillows looking down at Ethan as he lay propped on one elbow, using his fingertips to draw out the battle on her bare belly.
"..
.
so when the Frenchman made his move for the
Marianna,
Court gave the order and we cut straight across...
h
ere."
Morgan giggled. 'That tickles. Now, where was the Frenchman?"
"Right here, beside your navel. Pretty little thing, that."
"The French ship?"
"No." Ethan smiled up at her. "Your navel. I like the way your belly is so flat, and then there's this surprising little hollow, just here..." He laid his palm on her belly, dipped his middle into that hollow, moved his fingertip in small, light circles.
Morgan closed her eyes for a moment as something tightened inside her. Pleasurably. "You...
y
ou were telling me about the battle."
"Hardly a battle, darling," Ethan said, his attention straying even as he bent to place a kiss between Morgan's full breasts. "But feel free to consider me a hero if that makes me more attractive to you."
Morgan pushed him onto his back and rolled over with him
,
to brace her arms on either side of his body. "How attractive did you want to be? Because I think you've been
attractive
three times so far, and the sun hasn't gone down yet. Should I also mention that I'm ravenous?"
Ethan pulled her close, began nibbling on her earlobe. "I heard knocking earlier. Do you think anyone's worried about us? After all, we might starve."
"Knocking?" Morgan pushed herself up, grabbing the bedsheet that had come undone earlier. She slipped to the floor, wrapped the sheet around her body. "Someone left food out there for us, I'm sure of it," she said, walking barefoot to the door to the hallway.
"I was wondering about your sudden modesty. But don't tell me you're going to step into the hallway like that."
Morgan grinned at him. "Why not? Besides, everyone is down at dinner by now. Still," she added, one hand on the door latch, "you might want to cover yourself. It does you no good to lie there looking so very good
,
because I refuse to climb back in that bed until I've had something to eat."
Ethan pulled up the coverlet. "Fickle woman. You'd probably sell me to a traveling tinker in exchange for a joint of beef."
"You
are
a joint of beef," Morgan said, then felt herself blushing as she depressed the latch and opened the door, hoping to see that someone had indeed left a tray in the hall for them.
But there was more in the hallway than the tray.
"Hello, Morgan," Callie Becket said as she sat crosslegged on the floor, munching on a chicken leg she'd obviously purloined from the covered silver tray in front of her. "There weren't any more legs in the kitchen after dinner. You don't mind, do you? I like legs best."
Morgan glared at her younger sister. "Cassandra Becket, you are too old to pretend you're a child and too transparent to tell a lie with any hope of being believed. Why are you really out here? What do you want?"
Cassandra bent her head forward so that her light brown curls
h
id her face. "There was nowhere else to go. Eleanor is off helping Odette at the village because Bertie Cassel broke his leg in the rigging last night. Rian and Fanny have their heads together like always, and Court and Papa are in the study talking to Mr. Eastwood, who just arrived from London. There's no one to talk to and nothing to do, and if you weren't going to eat the chicken leg, why shouldn't I?"
She tossed back
her curls as she looked up at Morgan defiantly. "Besides, what
are
you and Ethan doing in there all day? I asked Court and he just told me to go away."
Morgan was caught between sympathy for her sister and embarrassment, with a bit of hunger thrown into the mix just to help make everything more complicated. "Callie, not now."
The girl got to her feet, still holding the chicken leg. "Not now, Callie. We're busy, Callie. Oh,
grow up,
Callie. Well, you know, Morgan, I'm almost fourteen and I think I am grown up, and I think it's time you all realize that I am, because some day I'm going to be even older, and then you'll
all
be sorry!"
Morgan stuck her head
out into the hallway to watch as Cassandra stomped off down the hallway, her curls bouncing, the large bow at the back of her gown hanging crooked and bedraggled.
"Poor little thing. Not a child, not a woman. I should get dressed and go after her," Morgan said as Ethan, clad only in his breeches, reached past her, picked up the tray, then closed the door. "But I don't know what to say to her. We'll take her to London one day, won't we, Ethan? I should tell her that. I mean, if I'm going to be a countess, I should be able to find my own sister a suitable husband."
Ethan put down the tray and lifted the silver dome, his own stomach reacting to the smell of roasted chicken. "It probably would be good to get her away from Becket Hall at some point," he agreed, ripping off the remaining chicken leg and holding it out to Morgan.
She looked at the thing and shook her head, her appetite gone. "We're leaving now, one by one. Some day Papa will be all alone here, in this great pile. He and Eleanor, of course."
Ethan wiped his hands on a serviette after putting down the chicken leg and spared only a moment to look at the thing wistfully before taking Morgan's hand and leading her back to the bed. "Why Eleanor?" he asked, watchi
n
g as Morgan climbed back into the bed, the sheet still wrapped around her.
"Because that's the way she wants it, I suppose. I don't think she cares where she is. Oh, I've seen her look at Jack Eastwood from time to time when he comes here to talk to Pap
a
—
h
e handles the sale and delivery of our goods in London, you understand. But that's all she does. Look. And he doesn't look back, so what does it matter? But Chance is gone and Spence is gnawing at the bit, wanting to go fight Napoleon. Rian and Fanny will leave one da
y
—anyone with a single eye in their head knows those two will be together one day, even if the world would say that's wrong."