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Wiping the beads of sweat from his brow, Robert turned his attention to Celiese. She was smiling still, the delight in her expression far different from the usual cool disdain she had once turned upon him. Her fair curls fell about her shoulders in a fair cascade, framing her exquisite features with a glorious silver haze. Perhaps the ice she had appeared to have running through her veins could be warmed with a little effort, and he regretted his haste in setting her free before he had sampled her favors to the fullest.
She and Michael were in no position to refuse him any request, and he still might have the time to enjoy the charms of her shapely figure if he delayed the meeting he had demanded she attend to a more opportune time. With that thought in mind he gestured at his soiled clothing and said, “I had planned to talk with you earlier in the day, and as you can readily see my appearance is now unsuited for a discussion on any topic with a lady. You will be here for supper, of course, as we all want to celebrate your marriage, so I will talk with you before we dine.”
Celiese looked up at Mylan, knowing he wanted to leave immediately, but he did no more than narrow his eyes in the slightest of frowns, and she saw he expected her to agree. “Thank you, I will look forward to speaking with you then.” Picking up Mylan’s cast-off clothing, she walked ahead of him up the path toward the imposing home. “What shall we do? I thought he knew you wished to leave immediately,” she whispered anxiously.
“I said only that I wanted to leave as soon as you were free to go. Perhaps he did not think we’d wish to spend our wedding night on board the Falcon.”
She frowned impatiently. “This is not our wedding night. Why didn’t you tell Father Bernard this was our second wedding?”
“That we were married in what he considers a pagan rite would not have mattered to him. In his view we were not married, and now we are. Did you not feel the same way?” They had reached their room and he held the door open for her to enter.
She walked to the bed and folded his bliaud neatly upon it before she turned to face him. “I had spent five years in your country, and while I did not fully understand your beliefs, I thought the fact that you held them to be true gave them value. I have always considered us to be married, it was only you who continually said we were not.”
He could do no more than stare at the bewitching creature who stood so proudly before him. He could detect not the slightest bit of hope or happiness in her emerald gaze. She was regarding him as though they were strangers discussing a topic of only slight interest, and he found her cool detachment impossible to return.
“Well, Lady d’Loganville, you are now truly my wife in the opinion of those who matter most to you, your beloved countrymen. Regardless of what I now call myself, or to whom I choose to pray, they will forever see me as a Dane and distrust me, but at least whatever sons I give you will be legitimate and free. That was your greatest worry at one time, or at least that was what you gave me to believe.” His amber gaze had a mocking shine, taunting her again with the unspoken accusation that her words had been lies.
Startled by the unexpected turn of the conversation, she swallowed nervously. “I not only said that, but I meant it. Perhaps you do not prize your freedom as highly as I do, because you have never lost it.”
“Have you forgotten the brief time I spent as Raktor’s prisoner? Be
fore then, I had been too badly injured to enjoy most of life’s privileges that freedom affords. Perhaps that was the same desperate feeling of helpless rage you felt at being my slave.”
“Your slave?” she responded bitterly. “I have never been your slave, never! In every way I was a wife to you.”
He shrugged, as if the truth of what their relationship had been held little interest for him now. “Whatever. Since we now share the same faith and have been married by a priest there should be no further need for discussion of the subject.” He began to walk away, then turned back as an afterthought. “I want to bathe, can I trust you to remain here while I do?”
“Of course,” she answered as though insulted, but she had not forgotten how desperate she had been to escape the house that morning, and obviously neither had he.
“Take another nap, if you wish, or send Marcela to bring you something to eat. We have hours to wait until Robert will be ready to see you.” He hesitated to leave her when she seemed so unsettled, but he wanted to change his clothes and go out to the Falcon to alert his crew to their unexpected change in plans.
“I will be all right,” she promised, her mood too guarded to allow him see how greatly she needed his courage to face what still lay ahead. Even when things did not go in Mylan’s way he had a quiet confidence she envied, for none of her dreams were coming true as she had hoped they would, and she was simply worn out by troubles that never seemed to end. The bed had been a comfortable one, and she would lie down again rather than pass the hours pacing up and down attempted to find some way to outwit the villainous duke when none existed.
“I think I will take a nap. You’ll find me here later.”
“Just see that I do.” Mylan strode into the adjoining room so as not to disturb her rest. He bathed quickly, and then dressed in his own clothing for a change and went down to the docks to speak with his men. He wanted them to be ready to sail at a moment’s notice. The river would be difficult to navigate at night, but if they had to flee under cover of darkness his ship would be ready.
*
When Mylan returned from his errand Celiese was still sleeping soundly, but the two damp trails her tears had made showed clearly upon her flushed cheeks, and he stood beside the bed wondering what more he could possibly do to insure the delicate beauty’s happiness. He seemed to have succeeded only in depressing her thoroughly, when he had thought marrying her in a Christian ceremony would finally make her content.
She did not appear to be in the least bit grateful that he had saved her life with his wits alone and with promises to Robert that would take him a lifetime to fulfill. Despite his best efforts, they could not converse without arguing no matter what the subject, and he felt the same sense of hopelessness he had battled all week. He had missed her terribly, but she had apparently dismissed him from her mind, undoubtedly blaming him for the misfortune she had caused herself. Even after he had explained how hard he had labored to save her she had tried to run away from him at her first opportunity. Nothing he did pleased her, not one single thing!
As he watched her sleep, he recalled there was one time they enjoyed the harmony that should exist between a man and his wife. Unfortunately, the tender peace they found in each other’s arms eluded them with astonishing speed during the rest of their waking hours. Seeing no reason to wait any longer to capture what pleasure he could from his willful young bride, he hurriedly cast off his clothing and slipped beneath the light blanket. He drew Celiese into his arms, covering her face with sweet kisses until she opened her eyes and smiled.
Snuggling against him to get more comfortable, the pretty young woman’s expression took on a seductive glow as she greeted him. “Mylan, I…”
“Michael,” he corrected her softly, and then lowered his mouth to her throat to nuzzle her silken skin with playful nibbles. He enjoyed the sweet, warm softness of her skin so greatly that his play swiftly turned to passion.
“Michael, then,” she replied as she lifted her arms to encircle his neck. She loved his strength, which he held in check to enfold her in the fondest of embraces. She slid her fingertips across the taut muscles of his broad shoulders to enjoy the fiery warmth of his deeply tanned skin. At least he had not been furious with her for the manner in which she stopped his mock battle with Robert, but she had not wanted to see him hurt, no matter how slightly, and the possibility he would suffer a severe injury had been too great.
“I want to leave here as swiftly as possible,” she urged. “I fear your life is in grave danger as well as mine.”
“Am I the reason for your fears?” Although he could not believe he was, he leaned back, watching her expression closely as he lifted his fingertips to wipe away the last drop of moisture from her cheek.
She felt no need to reply to so obvious a question and pulled him into a loving kiss, the only response she would give. She had missed the closeness they had shared during the voyage, when their entire world had existed of no more than the deck of the Surf Falcon and the small stretch of beach where they had made their camp each night. She wanted to return to that joy, to a far simpler time before their lives had become so unbearably complex.
Mylan sensed the same urgency in her enticing affection that throbbed within his own heart and tightened his embrace, pulling her supple form firmly against his own to savor each marvelous curve of her lithe figure. He spread her shining curls out upon the pillow and kissed her eyelids gently before he brushed his lips against hers. He lost himself in dreams of desire, drawn closer and closer until they were no longer two separate souls but one vibrant being whose heart beat in time with love’s most ancient rhythm. A thousand pretty verses came to mind and yet he gave voice to none, afraid to speak for fear of breaking her captivating spell.
