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Well, it’s what you deserve.
It was, he knew that. He had no right to take from her what he had. After this night, she’d never be the same. Now she knew the rewards of desire, knew what pleasures her body could achieve.
He growled at himself. He never should have sought her out. Never touched her the way he had.
In all honesty, he hadn’t meant to touch her. His intentions had been honorable enough.
Well, not completely honorable. He had intended to kiss her. To hold her.
Ah, face it, Drake, you’d meant to seduce her! Who do you think you’re lying to? You know the truth.
He cursed and cupped his head in his hands.
“Captain?”
Morgan tensed at Barney’s voice. Straightening up, he glanced to where Barney stood in the entrance of the galley. “What is it, Mr. Pitkern?”
“Mr. Pitkern, is it?” said the quartermaster with a hint of humor in his voice as he entered the room. “You must be suffering much to be so formal when it’s just the two of us.”
“Two? You mean you’re out and about without Pesty?”
Barney joined him at the table. “Well, I was thinking of having a bit of rum, and she don’t like it much when I drink.”
“She’s a true woman then.”
Barney plopped his mug down on the table and poured himself a liberal amount of drink. “In some ways she’s a greater nag than my sweet Bertha.”
Morgan frowned at the mention of Barney’s wife. The old man seldom spoke of her. “Is that what has you up?”
Barney heaved a weary sigh, lifted the mug from the table, and took a hearty swallow.
“Today be her birthday,” he said after a few minutes of silence. “I was just trying to think about what she’d want for a gift, if she were still here.” Barney sat down across from him and smiled sadly. “She so loved lilies. We had a yard full of them. I was just thinking that we spent the first month of our marriage planting those lilies in her garden. It was too early in the year, I thought, but she proved me wrong.” He gave another sad laugh. “Funny, she often proved me wrong. Even when I was right!”
Morgan smiled, thinking about Serenity and her knack for doing the same to him. “Do you ever miss living on land?”
Barney cleared his throat and shook his head. “Never. ’Tis Bertha I miss.”
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in his own thoughts. Each longing for something they couldn’t have. Aching for something that was useless to want.
Barney poured himself another mug full of rum. He finally broke the silence. “Funny how love can make you happy no matter where you live. I could have had nothing more than a tin shack and dirt to eat when I had Bertha, and life would have been as good as if I lived in a palace.”
Morgan contemplated his words.
For some reason, they made him think of his mother. He could barely remember her most of the time, but the one memory he carried of her most clearly was an image of her with his father. They’d been laughing together as she played his father’s favorite song on the pianoforte. His father had stood just behind her, his hand lovingly placed on her shoulder. They had looked so happy that day that Morgan had stared at them until they realized he was in the room.
It was an image he could never forget.
Nor could he forget the terrible sadness his father had felt at her death. The years he had heard his father crying alone in his room when he thought no one could hear him. The lock of black hair his father kept concealed in his fob watch.
Even now, he could hear his father telling him that losing his wealth and titles had been nothing compared to losing his precious Beatrice. Money could be regained, but people were irreplaceable.
Morgan sighed as he realized he would never know such love. He would live out his life alone with no one to comfort him. No one to care what happened to him.
And in that moment, he made a startling discovery about himself—deep down in a part of his heart that he had long ago shut away, he wanted to know what it felt like to want to live and die for one person.
What would it be like to hear a woman whisper she loved him, whisper that she’d never want another man?
He ached for it.
