Enticing Miss Eugenie Villaret (23 page)

Finally, shortly after four o’clock that afternoon, they sailed into Road Town’s protected harbor, and dropped anchor.

“Andrew, my lord,” Mr. Whitecliff said—Will had so far not been able to get the man to call him by his first name—“Let’s see if we can chase down that rascal of a vicar.”

“I want to go as well,” Eugénie said.

“Yes, and I,” Cicely added.

Whitecliff rubbed his chin. “Well, I suppose there’s no harm, as long as, that is, you two do not convince the vicar to marry you in town this afternoon. Your mother would have my hide.”

Cicely and Eugénie exchanged looks, and an unspoken communication seemed to take place between them. Finally, Cicely said, “We won’t, Papa.”

Will helped Eugénie down the ladder and into the boat. Once they were seated, he murmured, “What was that about?”

A small smile graced her lips. “If we find him, we’ll bring him back to the ship.”

He slipped his arm around her waist. “Let’s hope he’s there.”

Once on shore, they made their way to St. George’s church, a large wooden building painted white, surrounded by a low fence, not a half mile from the docks.

A pale, harried-looking young man with light red hair giving directions to a middle-aged negro woman stood at the entrance to the church.

After she left, Will said, “I am Viscount Wivenly. We’re looking for Mr. Stewart. Would you happen to be he?”

If it was possible, the young man turned even whiter. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, my lord. The Mr. Stewart you are searching for is off island at present.”

“Then who are you?” Whitecliff asked in his brusque fashion.

“I am Mr. Anketil Stewart. Mr. Stewart’s nephew.”

Andrew ran a hand over his face. “Are you in the holy orders?”

“Well . . . yes . . . yes, I am.” Stewart appeared about ready to lose his luncheon. “After a fashion, that is.”

Eugénie, who’d been next to Will, stepped forward. “Mr. Stewart, his lordship and I would like to wed, as would Miss Whitecliff and Mr. Grayson. Can you perform the service?”

Stewart took a breath, then let it out. “No. I am still only a deacon. Though I am able to perform most services, I cannot marry anyone.”

Will’s jaw began to ache from being clenched. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer to his next question. “When will your uncle return?”

A bead of sweat dripped down Stewart’s face. “You see, my lord, that’s just it. He was supposed to have been back a senight ago.” The man ran a finger around his cravat. “You are not the only couples waiting.”

Cicely turned to Eugénie, with tears in her eyes. “What shall we do now?”

“Mr. Stewart”—she lifted her chin—“is there another church or vicar on the island?”

Taking out his handkerchief, he mopped his face. “Uh, no, none at all. I’m terribly sorry, but I have members of the flock to attend to.”

With that he dashed off.

Will swore fluently under his breath. “Now what do we do?”

“I cannot believe there is only one church on this island.” Eugénie’s lips formed a thin line. “Let’s ask around. I think Mr. Stewart was hiding something.”

Will and his group were almost to the end of the path when a woman stepped out of the building they were passing.

“Excuse me.” The woman, the same one the deacon had been speaking to earlier, glanced over her shoulder toward the church, as if she was afraid of being seen.

Eugénie stopped. “Good afternoon, ma’am, can we help you?”

“Are you looking to be married?” the woman asked.

“We are.”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but there
is
another vicar on the island. He is a Mr. Petherick.”

Will closed his eyes and gave his head a shake. “Why would Mr. Stewart lie?”

She looked around again, and said in a low voice, “He’s at St. Michael’s. On the north side near Great Carot Bay. It’s up on the hill.”

“That still,” Will said with clenched teeth, “doesn’t answer my question.”

A door closed, and the woman moved away. “The older Mr. Stewart don’t like Mr. Petherick. He’s called the pirate priest. I must go.”

She lifted her skirts and ran to the small building to the left of the church.

“The pirate priest?”
Cicely and Eugénie said in unison.

“I don’t know if this . . .” Whitecliff’s voice petered out as his daughter glared at him.

Cicely put her hands on her hips. “Andrew and I are marrying, Papa. As long as he is legally able to perform the service, I don’t care what he’s called.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “I must agree with Cicely, sir. To my mind, we’ve waited long enough.”

“That is what I think as well,” Eugénie chimed in.

Whitecliff glanced over at Will. “I’m with them, sir.”

The older man nodded. “Very well then, but not a word to your mothers about his moniker. We’d never hear the end of it.”

As one, they headed back to the docks.

“Can you imagine,” Cicely said with a laugh, “the stories we’ll have to tell our children?”

“My father,” Will responded, “will dine off this for a month, and my mother will be the envy of all her romance-reading friends.”

“Oh, if only Papa were here,” Eugénie said wistfully.

Will tucked her arm more securely in his. “I’m sorry he’s not here to see you marry, my love.”

“As am I.” She straightened her shoulders. “He would be happy for us.”

Whitecliff patted her arm. “I’m certain he would be.”

For several minutes silence reigned, then Cicely said, “Papa, can we leave this evening, or must we wait until morning?”

He glanced at the sky. “It will be dark in just over an hour. The safest course is to wait.”

“But, Mr. Whitecliff,” Eugénie said as they stepped onto the pier, “surely we can make it to Soper’s Hole before dark.”

“You know, Eugénie, I believe you’re right. Let’s get ready to cast off again.”

Will groaned, and Mr. Whitecliff gave a bark of laughter. “Never fear, my lord. Anchoring in Soper’s Hole will give us a good head start on to-morrow’s sail. As long as our pirate priest isn’t gone, you will be wed before the day is over.”

One more night before Will would be able to make Eugénie his wife in truth.

As they rowed nearer to the ship, the savory scent of meat cooking made Will’s stomach grumble. He’d been so busy worrying about the marriage, he’d forgotten about food. That had to be the first time he’d done that.

Eugénie leaned closer to him, and his senses filled with her musk and lemon fragrance. How was he going to manage to be with her tonight? He needed her so much, the thought of not having her next to him didn’t bear thinking of.

She cupped her hand around his ear and whispered, “I shall come to you.”

Will sent up a silent prayer of thanks as the row-boat reached the ladder. As Eugénie reached toward the ladder, he tried to steady her. “Be careful.”

She flashed him a quick smile and scrambled up the ladder like she’d been born to it. It occurred to him that she probably had. Now all he had to do was suffer through the rest of the evening until everyone had gone to bed. An image of Eugénie naked in his bed imprinted itself on his mind. This was going to be a very long evening.

N
athan tightened his grip on Miss Marshall as they strolled down the main shopping area before making their way to the waterfront.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I think we’re being followed. Try to act naturally.”

He brought them to a halt in front of a shop window. Though he still couldn’t see anyone, the prickling on his neck didn’t change.

When they reached the harbor, there were still quite a few ships anchored out. Vincent’s schooner was positioned toward the north end. A good place to sail out quickly.

Miss Marshall’s hand tightened on his arm. “Which one is it?”

“I’m going to point to the center of the harbor. Vincent’s ship is the one with three yellow masts just to the right.”

She heaved a sigh, then laughed as if Nathan had told her a joke. “I see it.”

“The dory should be on the beach, directly in front of the yacht.”

They resumed walking, but slowed their pace as he and Miss Marshall approached the boat with the name
Belle Amie
painted in yellow. It was exactly where it should be. A number of people strolled and hurried around them. “Miss Marshall, do you see anyone who looks out of place?”

She smiled as if he’d once again said something witty. “No, do you?”

“Nothing.” They might get through this with no one the wiser. Yet instinct told him someone was near, and watching them. “I will hand you into the boat before I push it off the beach.”

“Won’t that tax your strength?”

It would, but he’d pay for it later when they were safe. “If they are searching for me, they’ll look for a man who is suffering from weakness.”

Miss Marshall nodded and laughed, allowing him to assist her into the dory. “You’re right, of course.”

He pushed them off, scrambled in, then grabbed the oars.

A tall white man dressed as a sailor sauntered along the beach. “Are you going to Mr. Beaufort’s ship?”

Nathan stiffened. “We are.”

“He sent me to row you out.”

Nathan raised a brow of inquiry, and the man continued, “He’s already got all his other dories aboard and doesn’t need this one.” The man waded into the water, leaned in close and pressed a piece of paper into Nathan’s hand. “You can trust me, Mr. Wivenly.”

He opened it and recognized Vincent’s familiar scrawl. “Thank you, Mr. . . .”

The man gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “No names.”

The hair on Nathan’s neck stood up. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. Vincent would die before betraying them. Nathan exchanged glances with Miss Marshall, giving his head an imperceptible shake. She inclined her head slightly, and clutched her reticule with one hand and the bench with the other. He placed his hand surreptitiously half-way down one of the oars. He had a choice—attack now, when the man wasn’t expecting it, knowing there was a chance he was wrong, or wait until they were in the harbor, where it would be more dangerous for Miss Marshall and possibly him as well.

As the sailor lifted his leg to climb in, Miss Marshall struck his head with her reticule. He staggered back, giving Nathan time to pull strong strokes, propelling them into the harbor.

“Bitch!”
the man growled. “All of your kind should be in shackles.”

Her spine stiffened, but the only thing she said was, “If you need me to row, I am able.”

Nathan’s intention to head in a straight line had been thwarted. He knew that during their flight from the thug he’d gotten off course. After a few moments, while they were approaching the boats at anchor, Nathan said, “Look for Vincent or Conrad. If you don’t see them, we’ll have to think of something else.”

Soon they heard shouts of welcome directing them to his friend’s sloop. “Thank God.”

Miss Marshall’s smile was genuine this time. “Mr. Beaufort is truly our savior.”

When they arrived at the ship, Conrad reached down to help her up the rope ladder. “Did you have any trouble?”

“Just a bit.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I’ll let Mr. Wivenly tell you.”

Nathan hooked the lines up to the small boat for it to be raised before following her to the deck.

“What happened?” Vincent asked as soon as Nathan was aboard.

He handed his friend the note and told them about the man.

Vincent scrubbed a hand over his face. “We’ve either been compromised, or I have a traitor. There is nothing I can do now. We must depart quickly before anyone else attempts to stop us.”

The anchor and sails were being raised as he spoke. Soon they were maneuvering their way out of the crowded harbor into the Caribbean Sea.

Nathan would be home soon. He just hoped he was in time.

With the wind coming from the east, the
Song Bird
made a speedy trip to Soper’s Hole on the southwest end of Tortola. Eugénie stood at the rail gazing out over the water, William’s arms encircled her as the sun sank below the horizon, encased in streaks of red clouds. Their luck was in, as her papa would have said. “The weather will be good tomorrow.”

“How do you know that?”

“Red sky at night, sailors’ delight. Red sky in morning, sailors take warning.”

His hand moved over the small of her back. “It is always correct?”

She shivered with pleasure as the tip of his tongue touched the outer shell of her ear. “Always.”

“Then God and fate are with us.”

“I didn’t believe in fate before I met you.”

William’s chest rumbled with laughter. “I’ve never been able to escape it. Nor would I want to. It brought me to you.”

Eugénie turned in his embrace. “And you to me. I never believed I could be so happy and content.”

His lips touched hers, and for a moment she pretended they were all alone on the ship. Then the squeal of a young girl and a crash brought her back to reality. She touched her forehead to his broad chest. “Should we go see what happened?”

“Not yet. They have Miss Penny, your mother, and the Whitecliffs. Let’s stay here and enjoy the evening for a while longer.”

After they’d eaten and joined the rest of their friends and family for another game of charades, and tea, Eugénie rose, and made a show of yawning. The sooner she could be with William, the better. She couldn’t wait until they did not have to sneak around. “I am for my bed. We have another early morning tomorrow.”

Fortunately, all the adults agreed and the children were struggling to keep their eyes open.

As Eugénie neared her cabin, her mother said, “Eugénie, Marisole will sleep with you tonight. I had a cot set up.”

“
Oui
, Maman.” Eugénie bussed her mother’s cheek. “I shall see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

What Maman didn’t know was that Marisole slept like the dead and would awaken promptly at five o’clock in the morning. As long as Eugénie was back in her bed by then, no one would know she’d spent the night with William.

A little over an hour later, she lay on her side, waiting until the deep breathing of her maid indicated Marisole was sleeping, before slipping out into the passageway to William’s cabin. The moment Eugénie’s hand touched the latch, the door opened, and he pulled her in.

William’s naked body gave off heat as he swooped her up, carrying her the few steps to his bed. She wanted to run her hands over his chest, and rub her own bare body against his.

“I heard your mother and was afraid you wouldn’t be able to come to me.”

“Nothing can awaken Marisole until she is ready. Besides, she will not betray us. Still, I do not wish to put her in an awkward position.”

Placing his hand under Eugénie’s nightgown, he slowly dragged the palms of his hands over her as he moved up her body, lifting the garment. “After tomorrow, I shall be paying her wages.”

Eugénie caressed his strong chest, twining her fingers through the short curls covering the skin and sinew. “Nevertheless.”

William stroked her back and derrière. “I won’t argue with you.”

Heat pooled in the place between her legs as he palmed her breasts. Her breath came in short pants. “Never?”

He laughed softly. “And deny myself the sight of you in a temper?”

“You are no—” His fingers stroked her center. “Oooh. That feels
splendide
.”

“I love it when you forget your English.”

He inserted one finger into her sheath, and she was about to forget much more.
“Vraiment?”

“Truly.” His tongue circled one nipple, causing it to furl tightly. “God, you’re beautiful. I’ve missed you. I’m besotted with you.”

She’d missed him as well. Eugénie stroked his back, then his chest again. “I like that you are, but it’s too dark for you to know how I look.”

“I can feel it.” He bent his head, and took the now aching nipple in his mouth. “You taste like an exotic creature from the sea.”

Frissons of pleasure raced through her, and the apex of her thighs throbbed in earnest. Oh Lord. Eugénie arched into him. “William, I want—”

“Shhh, my love. To-night, we take this slowly.” He licked and nipped at her neck. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Suddenly, Eugénie was much too hot. She remembered just in time to keep her voice to a whisper. “I want this off.” She tugged at her nightdress. “Help me.”

“In a few moments.”

He moved over her as he raked his tongue over her breasts down to her navel, then stopped. Every nerve in her body was on edge with wanting. If he didn’t enter her soon she was going to scream. “Now?”

“Not quite yet.” He chuckled wickedly. “Have patience, my sweet.”

Eugénie spread her legs and wrapped them around Will, tugging. “I don’t want to wait.”

All she’d succeeded in doing was to pull his head and shoulders down to her already wet mons. His lips nuzzled her, and she almost cried out loud. He licked the nub nestled in her curls.

What was he doing? She gripped his head with her knees as her body sizzled. If he kept this up she would burst like a star. “I don’t think you’re supposed to . . .”

Her protest sounded weak even to her. Eugénie bit her lip, but a low moan escaped despite her effort.

“Like that, do you?”

She nodded, then remembered Will couldn’t see her. Eugénie grabbed on to the sheets as the spiraling tension in her core tightened, then clamped one hand over her mouth. Just as she reached her peak, William entered her. In two, maybe three strokes, they both tumbled over the edge together. She’d died and gone to heaven.

He chuckled. “That is why the French call it the little death.”

“
La petite mort
. I’ve heard the term, but did not understand it.” She sucked in a breath, thankful for the breeze through the small port window. “Now I do.”

Will rolled off Eugénie as he sucked in huge gulps of air. The small cabin’s one port-window allowed little in the way of a breeze. He stroked damp strands of hair away from her face. He wanted to cuddle her close, but it was too damned hot. What he wouldn’t give right now for crisp autumn weather and a fire. He laid his hand over her gently rounded stomach. “Can you feel how much I love you.”

“Yes.” Eugénie closed her long slender fingers around his. “I love you as well.” Her voice hitched. “I never thought to have this much joy.”

He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, kissing away the tears. The thought of her crying, even with delight, unnerved him. “I never believed I’d find a woman who’d love me more than my title. If I hadn’t met you, I would have allowed my mother to pick my bride.”

“Oh no, William, you would not have done such a thing?”

“It doesn’t bear thinking of now. I can’t imagine my life without you, my love, I adore you.”

He traced her lips with a finger as she smiled. “But now, my lord, you will live under the cat’s paw.”

“So I’ve been told.” Will bent his head to kiss her when he heard the splash of something falling in the water.

“I told you not to bring your doll!” a high voice shrieked.

“You did not!” Jeanne cried.

Then there was a louder splash.

Eugénie was out of bed and yanking the door open before he could move.

“I’ll murder them,” she muttered, and ran out into the passageway.

Thank God, he hadn’t removed Eugénie’s nightgown. Will groped around and found his pantaloons and a shirt. After donning them as quickly as he could, he followed her to the deck.

“Jeanne,” Eugénie called, “do not attempt to swim, just tread water until I get there.”

One of the sailors dashed out holding a lantern. “Don’t worry, miss, I’ll get her.”

The sailor started toeing off his shoes, and Will jumped in. He broke the surface and looked around. Jeanne. Her long-sleeved nightgown floated around her. She held something in her left arm and her free arm splashed around as she struggled to keep her head above the water.. Her nightclothes were probably weighing her down. In a few strokes, Will had her.

“Over here, William.” Eugénie held a lantern while the ship’s hand lowered the ladder.

By this time, it seemed as if everyone was at the rail, and more lanterns had been lit. With the child in one arm, he swam to the side of the ship. “Here, give me the doll.”

After he had the toy in one hand, he boosted Jeanne up the ladder with the other.

The little girl’s lip trembled. “You’ll take care of Charity, won’t you?”

“Yes,” he assured her with more calm than he felt. Good God, she could have drowned. “Go on now.”

By the time he’d climbed up, Aunt Sidonie was dragging away the two girls.

“Andrew has fresh water on the stern for you to rinse off,” Eugénie said, pressing a towel into his hands. She pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly. “Thank you for saving Jeanne.”

All he wanted to do was take Eugénie in his arms and comfort her. “Are you all right?”

She nodded several times before answering. “Yes, though I shall thrash my sisters.”

Anger was good. “I’ll help you. They won’t be able to sit for a week.”

It was the first time that night he’d been able to see her clearly. Eugénie’s dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders to her waist. Her light-colored muslin nightgown had ruffles around the neck and cuffs. She looked slightly disheveled, and her lips were still swollen from his kisses. With everyone awake, including Marisole, she wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of the night with him. Will raised her hand to his lips. “Until morning, my love.”