When she came at last to stand before him, he saw her eyes, teal-blue and shimmering in the candle glow. Her knuckles grazed his cheek as their eyes met. He caught her hand, so fine-boned, so delicate. He brought it to his lips and kissed her palm.
She led him to the bed. He followed her, trembling. And he continued to tremble, all through the sweet tempest of their lovemaking.
When at last they both lay still, filled with their love, he kissed her forehead in reverence and knew that should he die upon the morrow, he had already received the greatest glory on earth. He’d known sensual pleasure before, a good deal of it—but never like this. Because the difference lay in the loving, in the aching to touch the heart as well as the body; in the vast depth of longing to be completely united.
She stirred against him, and he touched her chin to raise her eyes to his. The tenderness he felt for her then was overwhelming, and he was stunned by the sadness he found in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked her, and she shook her head. “By God, you must know how I love you!” he told her vehemently.
“I don’t deny it,” she said softly. “And forever will I be grateful for it.” She paused. “All that touched my mind was that it didn’t seem right that all the wonder between us should be wrong.”
“Ah, my love! Before God I feel that our love is sacred. Brianna, believe what I say now: I would give anything to make you happy. My ship, my land, anything that I hold. You already know that I’d give my life, should you require it. Brianna, the only thing that I cannot do is harm in any way—”
“Hush, Sloan, oh, hush!” She turned to him, fighting back the tears she could not shed. “I could not love you so if you would hurt your wife, who is sick and who bears no ill will to others. Sloan, let it lie. I beg you. Hold me, and talk no more of it.”
He did. He held her as he would the most precious thing in his life, for that was what she had become.
Chapter 13
The morning was glorious, and Sloan was convinced as they walked, arm in arm, from theSea Hawk, that Brianna had never been more beautiful. He intended to be very discreet, of course. He would not cause her discomfort for anything in the world. But she had been anxious to come ashore, and he had been happy to bring her. He felt that they were safe here. He trusted these people implicitly, because they were determined to go William’s way. He would introduce Brianna to the lord mayor as a lady of humble means, traveling to be a companion to Princess Mary of Orange. And, in fact, wasn’t that to be the truth?
He smiled at her; she glanced at him, and quickly returned his smile. Sloan frowned then, wondering why she seemed so nervous, for it had been her idea to come ashore. He assured her that he would not have her on shore if he weren’t convinced of the wisdom of it. She merely flashed him another smile, and asked him some question about the port town.
She was somberly garbed in forest-green wool, and he watched her with affection as they moved along. Her footsteps seemed tiny today, very ladylike. She had dressed modestly for the Puritan community. He smiled secretively; it was very difficult to equate the demure maid of this morning with the wanton temptress of the night. Her hair was tightly secured at her nape and the neckline of the green gown was at her throat. He lowered his eyes a little unhappily, shivering at an unexpected flash of foreboding. What could be wrong? he wondered. Then he carefully weighed his position again, and came up with the same conclusion. They were quite safe. Perhaps it was just her nervousness—and that terrible sadness he caught in her eyes when she wasn’t aware of his scrutiny—that was touching his soul. Yet she loved him, and he her, and in that they were complete. In time she would cease to reflect upon the things that could not change. He would see that she did. By his honor, he vowed silently, he would do everything in his power to make her happy, to give her peace. To let her know that she was cherished as few wives could ever be.
In the tavern the lord mayor became quickly entranced with Brianna, as did a young man joining the party, a very solid sort of citizen in a black coat and black breeches, and a tall black hat, introduced as Luke Farley. As a casual discussion ensued, Sloan quickly learned that he was one of the Puritan leaders.
“We do quite well, here, that we do!” the lord mayor boasted proudly. “We bring about the England that the late Queen Bess, and even His Majesty Charles, did so intend. We don’t persecute our people for any religious belief!” He nudged his companion. “Ah, but Luke here is longing to set forth for the Massachusetts Bay Colony—to one of the Puritan towns there! But they are not so tolerant as we, eh, Luke?” He leaned across the table, his merry eyes twinkling. “They send those who are not ‘God’s chosen’ away from God’s towns!”
Luke Farley flushed and his fingers tightened a little nervously about his tankard of ale. Then his eyes rose to Sloan’s, and he shrugged. “Surely, Lord Treveryan, you are aware that the condition of the Colonies cannot last long. Our charter was rescinded, and even now, we have representatives at court trying to regain it!”
Brianna glanced curiously at Sloan as he answered the young man. “I’m aware of the difficulties, sir. But I’m afraid it will be a long while before the new charter is obtained. James is busy with other affairs now.”
“Aye, that he is,” Luke Farley murmured, and then again he shrugged. “I do not expect to hear of a charter until William and Mary come to England.”
“You are confident of their success?”
“And equally confident that our charter—when it is obtained—will not be the same.” He gazed at Brianna. “Forgive me, Mistress MacCardle, for you appear confused by our conversation. Previously, the laws were such that only those of our profession—our religion, as we term it—could hold public office. Perhaps we have been intolerant of others. But please understand that those of the Massachusetts Colonies battled the seas, disease, death, and great loneliness—when they were under persecution!”
Brianna smiled—this was her opening. “Mr. Farley, there is little you need explain to me. I spent my childhood in a Puritan household. In fact, my family are not far from here. Perhaps you know of them. The Powells?”
“The Powells?” Luke questioned her, rather sharply. But Brianna did not have a chance to answer then, for Paddy suddenly appeared at the table, his old hat in his hands as he begged their pardon for the interruption.
“It’s sorry I am, Cap’n, to disturb you, but the carpenter wishes to consult with you before doing certain work upon the hull.”
Sloan appeared surprised, but not annoyed. He glanced at the party at the table with a grimace. “You’ll excuse me, gentlemen, Brianna?”
“You, sir, we must excuse!” The lord mayor laughed. “But I pray, do not deprive us of the company of this lady.”
“We will guard her with all our honor,” Luke promised solemnly.
“I will return quickly,” Sloan promised.
Brianna noticed that he whistled as he left the taproom. In fact, she noted every little thing about him then, the breadth of his shoulders, the assurance of his gait, the darkness of his hair. Everything. With her eyes she followed him until he had left the tavern, and she felt when he departed as if everything that was beautiful in life left with him. She weakened. Tears brimmed on her lashes that she feared she would not be able to blink away, and she brought every rationalization she could think of to the fore of her mind. She could not leave him, she had been a fool to think that she might. But even as she stared after him, her heart seeming to bleed from the pain, Luke Farley was speaking the words that were to sever her from Sloan.
“Mistress MacCardle, you were asking after the Powells. I know them quite well. A number of the family are planning a move to the Colonies.”
“Ah, your pardon, sir?” Brianna forced herself to swallow and turn to him.
