Rexanne Becnel (21 page)
Authors: Heart of the Storm
She stared at his handsome, weary face, and her lips parted in unconscious longing. At once Cyprian reached for her hands.
“Come closer, mermaid.” He drew her arms apart and tugged just enough for her bottom to slide forward on the slippery tub floor.
Eliza glanced frantically toward the tall window and the streaks of afternoon sun that poured their winter warmth into the room. This could not be proper. Not by anyone’s standards!
But Cyprian laughed as if he sensed her very thoughts. “It feels even better in the afternoon,” he murmured.
Better than last night?
Her eyes widened and despite herself she wondered if that was even possible. But as Cyprian unfolded her bent legs so that they rested across his own legs, then pulled her right up to him, her protests died. This was what she wanted; why pretend otherwise?
Her eyes widened and despite herself she wondered if that was even possible. But as Cyprian unfolded her bent legs so that they rested across his own legs, then pulled her right up to him, her protests died. This was what she wanted; why pretend otherwise?
Still, as Cyprian began to work his magic, she resolved to draw him out afterwards, to talk to him and begin to understand him—and understand what they might come to mean to one another. More than anything she wanted to make him happy—to make him happy with her.
N
ot an hour later Eliza clasped the length of a fluffy white towel around herself, clutching the ends to her chest. “No, Cyprian. Absolutely not. We cannot possibly share the same bedchamber.”
ot an hour later Eliza clasped the length of a fluffy white towel around herself, clutching the ends to her chest. “No, Cyprian. Absolutely not. We cannot possibly share the same bedchamber.”
“We can and we will,” he stated. He stood with his arms crossed and his legs splayed. And not one stitch of clothing to cover him.
Eliza glared at him with what she meant to be an inflexible fury, but which she feared came across as helpless pleading. Considering that he’d just proven to her that it
could
be better in the afternoon, she was hard-pressed to be stern with him. “It’s … it’s just not right,” she argued rather lamely.
could
be better in the afternoon, she was hard-pressed to be stern with him. “It’s … it’s just not right,” she argued rather lamely.
“I say it’s right, and anyway, it’s my house. What I say goes.”
“Just like on the
Chameleon?
Oh, Cyprian. You revel in breaking all the rules. But I—” She broke off and looked away, suddenly miserable. She’d always done what she was supposed to do, until now. She’d always been a proper young lady and an obedient daughter.
Chameleon?
Oh, Cyprian. You revel in breaking all the rules. But I—” She broke off and looked away, suddenly miserable. She’d always done what she was supposed to do, until now. She’d always been a proper young lady and an obedient daughter.
Unaccountably she thought of Cyprian’s mother. She’d been a proper young lady once, and probably an obedient daughter too. But that hadn’t prevented her from bearing a child out of wedlock. Was that to become
her own fate, too? Eliza lifted her chin and stared back at him, fearful now. “What would happen if I were to become … you know, to become with child?”
her own fate, too? Eliza lifted her chin and stared back at him, fearful now. “What would happen if I were to become … you know, to become with child?”
His face closed in a frown, chasing away the smug confidence that had been there before. “That’s not going to happen. There are ways to prevent it. Ana will help you—”
“But what if it
does
happen?” she insisted. “After all, it happened to your mother.”
does
happen?” she insisted. “After all, it happened to your mother.”
She knew at once that she’d angered him with her words, for he yanked a clean pair of breeches from a tall wardrobe and pulled them on with jerky movements. “I won’t abandon you, if that’s what you’re worried about. How can you even think that of me?”
Though Eliza took some solace in his response, it did not really solve anything. “You would let a child of yours be raised a bastard?” she asked very softly.
“No!” He advanced on her as if he meant to shake some sense into her, but he stopped just short of touching her. “No,” he repeated, clearly struggling to regain his calm. “No child of mine will be raised a bastard.”
“I see,” Eliza sighed, fearing she truly did see. He’d marry her, but only if she should accidentally become pregnant. Was she now to wish for or dread just such an occurrence?
“So it’s agreed. You’ll share my room.” His expression gentled and he reached up to smooth a long wet curl from her bare shoulder.
But Eliza shook her head and stepped back. How could she make him understand? He would dismiss her concerns about what the others might think. Even Aubrey. But she couldn’t dismiss them, so she said the one thing she hoped would sway him.
“I never once, in all my life, imagined that I would become a fallen woman.”
He let out an exasperated sound. “You’re hardly a fallen woman, Eliza. That’s just a lot of religious crap.”
“All right, then, perhaps ‘kept woman’ is a more appropriate term.”
His brows lowered in returning anger and he grabbed her by both shoulders. “You worry too much about what others think. You and I are the only ones whose opinions matter here.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” she retorted as she tried fruitlessly to pull free of his iron-hard grasp. “You have no family to worry about you—to be ashamed for you. But I do. I do,” she repeated in a lower tone when he straightened up and slowly released her arms.
She backed away, then holding tight to the damp towel around her, she turned and moved to the window. Outside afternoon had given way to the early dusk of winter. But even in December the expansive grounds that surrounded the stone-walled estate were green and verdant. Late-blooming flowers still showed here and there, pink moss roses and nodding cream-colored chrysanthemums. It was very like the magical island in the story Aubrey loved so, where boys needed never to grow up. Aubrey imagined he could become one of those boys. But Eliza feared that Cyprian already had. He denied she could become pregnant, and refused to understand that her concerns for propriety were valid. It seemed a natural part of his personality to thumb his nose at society any way he possibly could.
She heard his footfall as he approached and she shivered in undeniable yearning when his palms slid slowly up and down her arms. “Don’t fight me on this, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of her damp hair and pulled her so that her back rested against his chest. “We don’t have to answer to anyone here, just each other. I please you. You please me. Together we’re good, Eliza, better than I could ever have believed possible. Don’t ruin it now when it’s only just begun.”
Eliza closed her eyes and struggled to remember why
she was fighting him. “It’s just begun, but where shall it end?”
she was fighting him. “It’s just begun, but where shall it end?”
“Why should it ever end?” he answered, turning her in his arms. He tilted her chin up and kissed her with unbearable tenderness. But though Eliza rose into his kiss and reveled in the thrilling quiver that began again, a part of her knew, nevertheless, that he was wrong.
It had to end and eventually it would. But for her to think it could end in marriage—with their children tumbling happily about this lovely house, and she and Cyprian growing old together—was foolish beyond words. Her father would never allow it for one thing, and anyway, Cyprian did not really want to marry her.
She pulled out of his embrace and once more turned away from him.
“This has to end eventually. We cannot go on in this suspended state. You and I …” She shook her head in frustration. “And there’s Aubrey. He must be returned to his father. You know that.”
He didn’t reply for a long moment, and she was too afraid to turn around and face him. Finally she heard him sigh.
“None of these decisions needs to be made right now, Eliza. We’re both tired. You’re upset. We’ll talk about this later—tomorrow—after we’ve both had a good night’s sleep.”
He came up behind her and planted a light kiss on the side of her neck. “I’ve a few things to see to now. If you need anything just ask Ana. She’ll take care of everything.”
Eliza nodded and slowly he stepped away. She heard the sounds of him dressing but she continued to gaze blankly out the window, for she feared the powerful hold he had on her. Just a touch, a kiss, a smile, and all her arguments died.
He left the room with only a brief goodbye, but Eliza felt his departure as keenly as if her heart had been torn
from her chest and departed with him. She knew, however, that she must hold onto her own will, for her future and Aubrey’s depended on it.
from her chest and departed with him. She knew, however, that she must hold onto her own will, for her future and Aubrey’s depended on it.
They were on British soil now, and their real lives awaited them. If only she could convince Cyprian of that. He had to release Aubrey, and he had to accept the reality of the relationship he was forging with her. Until then the least she could do—if she retained any shred of self-preservation—was to maintain the semblance of propriety. They might make love in his huge tub in the afternoon, but she must have her own bedchamber, whether he liked it or not.
Still, that would not solve the greater problem that faced her: she was becoming emotionally entangled with Cyprian. It wasn’t just physical anymore. And while physical entanglement was already foolish in the extreme—after all, she could become pregnant—an emotional entanglement was an invitation to utter disaster. He was not a man who desired marriage. That was far too conventional for him, especially marriage to a woman like her. The fact was, her social standing might very well be the larger part of his attraction to her. Through her he could mock her uncle and all he stood for. By ruining her he once more thumbed his nose at them all.
It was an enormously depressing thought and she had to quell an unexpected sob. She was a fool to stay here any longer. Though something in her dreaded that truth, it was no longer avoidable. The time had come for her to return to her old life. Despite her foolish reluctance, it was the only choice left to her.
Aubrey stared down at his feet and the plain work brogans Oliver had brought for him. “It feels strange, after going without shoes these past two weeks.” He grinned up at Oliver as he tried them out. “Look, my limp doesn’t show nearly so much.”
“I expect in time you’ll have no limp at all,” the young sailor answered from his sprawling position in a cane-backed planter’s chair.
“And I expect my father will be so pleased that I shall have anything I want. And the first thing I shall ask for is a sailing vessel all my own.”
Oliver raised his brows. “Is he so rich as all that?”
Aubrey shrugged. “He’s got lots of ships that trade all over the world. I know. I know! You can be captain of one of them and teach me everything about sailing. I can be the first mate.” He jumped up and down, grinning at the sharp sound of new leather striking the wood floor of the bedroom he’d been given. “Where’s Eliza? I want to tell her all about my new plan.”
A narrow crease appeared on Oliver’s forehead. “She’s with Cyprian.”
That slowed Aubrey’s madcap dance around the room. “Is she going to marry up with him?”
Oliver shifted in the chair. “I couldn’t begin to guess at that.”
But Aubrey only stared harder at him. “If he were to ask her, I’m thinking she would say yes.”
“Say yes to what?” Xavier asked, entering the room through the open door.
“To marrying Cyprian,” Aubrey replied. “I think Eliza would, if he asked her.”
“So do I,” Xavier agreed. Then he too turned his scrutiny on Oliver. “Don’t you have an opinion on that?”
Oliver shot him a dirty look. “He’s not likely to ask her, so there’s no point to your question.”
Aubrey moved to stand before the sullen Oliver. “You could marry one of my sisters, you know. Jessica is in desperate need of a husband, at least that’s what I’ve heard my father say. And all the young lords think she’s quite beautiful.”
Oliver rumpled the boy’s hair affectionately. “And do
you think your father is desperate enough to choose a penniless sailor like me for a son-in-law?”
you think your father is desperate enough to choose a penniless sailor like me for a son-in-law?”
“But you’ll be a captain, remember? You’ll be captain of my ship, just like Cyprian is captain of his ship.” He nodded earnestly. “I think it’s a very good idea, Oliver. Don’t you, Xavier?”
“I’ve known of more unlikely pairings than that. Pairings that have brought immense happiness to both halves of the mismatched couple.” He clapped one huge hand on Oliver’s shoulder. “Can’t you be happy for Cyprian and Eliza, Oliver?”
Oliver stared up at his longtime friend. “If Eliza is happy with Cyprian, then yes, I can be happy for them. I know that she doesn’t care for me in that way,” he admitted. “But I will not see him hurt her,” he added more forcefully. “And I think that’s just what he’ll do.”
“I will not let him hurt her either,” Xavier promised. “But unlike you, I have hope for them. It may take time for our captain to recognize how valuable she is to him, but it will do neither of them any good if we interfere too swiftly. Let us just enjoy our homecoming, shall we? And see where circumstances may lead us.”
Cyprian decided to leave Eliza to her own devices for a while. Though she hadn’t argued further with him, he knew she was not yet resigned to her position in his household. Perhaps a little time to herself would help. And it would allow him the chance to pursue some important private business.
Though it was the dinner hour, Cyprian’s man-of-business answered his summons at once. They sat in Cyprian’s teak panelled study, with two squat tumblers and a finely cut crystal decanter of Barbados rum between them, the doors closed against interruption.
“They received word even faster than we expected. A special messenger was dispatched on horseback, straight from the harbor at Portsmouth. He arrived in London
four days past and Haberton has since learned that you are captain of the
Chameleon
. He and Miss Thoroughgood’s father and fiancé have wasted no time in beginning their pursuit of you.”
four days past and Haberton has since learned that you are captain of the
Chameleon
. He and Miss Thoroughgood’s father and fiancé have wasted no time in beginning their pursuit of you.”
Cyprian’s hand curved around his glass of rum, but he did not lift it to his mouth. Her fiancé was searching for her. Did the man not realize that her reputation must be destroyed by now? Or did it not matter to him?
His fingers tightened on the cool glass. Could the man want her as badly as he himself did, to the point that he’d have her back no matter what might have happened to her?
“What do you wish to do?”
“Send him to the bottom of the sea,” Cyprian muttered, gulping the rum angrily.
“You said you’d not hurt the boy!” The solicitor jumped to his feet. “You promised—”
“I’m not going to hurt the boy!” Cyprian snapped.
“But you just said—”
“I was speaking of someone else. Not the boy!” Cyprian struggled to repress his irritation and control his tone. “I was thinking of someone else. I have no intentions at all of harming young Aubrey.”
The man sat down, mollified but not entirely reassured. “What do you intend to do about the boy, then?”
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