Lucky's Lady (The Caversham Chronicles Book 4) (32 page)

"Please—" She said when her breathing returned to normal. "I must finish..."

"I know. You have work to do," he said, "but I needed that." The combination of the hitch in his voice and the feel of his cheek on hers were doing odd things to her insides again.

"You cannot come in here and upset my female sensibilities–because you do, Lucky," she confessed. "How can I then be expected to return to my previous task without so much as a hiccup? It takes me several minutes to recover myself so I can think properly again."

"Before this day is through, Mary, I will have you in my arms and I will kiss you senseless. Then I will make love to you as though I've been away for ten long months. There will be no one waiting on you to complete a task or awaiting your presence, your instruction, explanation, nothing. I will have your undivided attention and you will have mine," he vowed. "Today, Mary. Before the day is through. Because I have had enough of waiting."

The room felt as though all the air had been sucked out because she couldn't catch a breath. She trembled from the promise in his words. Her womb quickened in anticipation of their loving and the rush of tingling excitement to her core caused her give an involuntary and very audible moan.

He smiled as he pushed away from the wall, releasing her. Mary-Michael dragged in a shaky breath, met his beautiful gold-flecked gaze, and smiled. "I promise you, Captain," she rasped, "I cannot wait." He gave her a moment to collect herself, and when she nodded, he opened the door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Watkins," he said, "for taking care of that for me." Then he was gone. She heard his footfall as he strode down the hall, down the steps, and out of the building.

She motioned for Robert to return and the two of them finished calculating the times and pay, though her mind and heart were on the
Avenger
where she knew Lucky waited for her to be done.

 

E
very other Friday was a long day for Mary-Michael. She loved bringing smiles to her crews. Knowing they were now able to pay their bills and put food on their tables and clothes on their children's backs was truly a satisfying feeling. In a tradition that had begun when Mr. Watkins and his friends started the shipyard, one of the owners always dispensed the pay to their many employees, thanking each man for his loyalty to the company. The procession of men filing into the offices began when the early shift was done for the day and it ended when Mary-Michael handed Robert his pay before she locked up the office and went home.

Only this evening she lingered in the office, going over her final notes on Captain Ross'
Lady S,
while hoping for a visit from Lucky. The blatantly erotic promise he'd made earlier in the day had been in the back of her mind all afternoon. And when Victor came to drive her home, she'd handed him a note for Mr. Watkins. In it she'd said be working late with Captain Gualtiero on his instructions for refurbishing their older boats. She was sure he would be able to read between the lines, after all the entire plan had been his idea.

"What time would you like me to return, Miz Watkins?" Victor's question jarred her, causing her to draw a momentary blank. For as much as she'd love to spend the entire night with her captain, Mary-Michael couldn't. Saturday was a work day. The best thing would be to schedule a time for Victor to return for her. To have Lucky walk her home might cause gossip if they were seen alone together in the dark. Then again, no one knew better than she did how to slip through the streets alone. She'd been doing it since she was a child.

"It could take a few hours," she told the elderly servant. "What if I have both captains escort me home, Victor? Do you think I will be safe enough in their company?"

"Well I suppose you'd be safe enough, Miz Watkins," Victor said. "That Captain Ian has grown up to be a strappin' big fella. 'Course that Captain Lucky is just as big. But you walkin' with two men, and not one bein' your husband, don't look good to those that want to be startin' somethin' no good." Victor took his hat off and wiped his brow with his forearm. "I'd rather come back for ya after I eat my dinner. I can wait while you finish up."

Panic rose in her breast, Mary could see her evening ending abruptly with Victor returning and not finding her here. Or worse, finding her and Lucky in a passionate embrace. "As I don't know how long I will be, it makes more sense to have the captains escort me home." She wanted that to be the end of the conversation. Nodding to the note in his hand, she reminded him to give it to her husband. "Please tell Sally not to hold dinner for me either. I had my lunch so late I'm not feeling hungry this evening."

Victor grumbled about her not eating enough as he walked out of her office, and she could hear him still grumbling through her open office windows when he exited the building. Mary hated upsetting the dear man. From the moment she began working for Mr. Watkins, even before she married him all those years earlier, Victor had taken it upon himself to be her protector when he wasn't driving her husband or assisting him with dressing. As Mr. Watkins began to get frail, Victor's responsibilities became more of the personal nature to her husband whose mobility was more and more limited each week. But tonight she couldn't have their servant waiting while she and her captain reacquainted themselves.

She pressed her hand on her belly. Her nerves causing the butterflies to start dancing again.

When their dinner guests left the night before, Mr. Watkins called her to his room and reminded her that she had a wonderful opportunity during this next week to try for a child again, if that was still what she desired. She confessed that it was, and he'd said, "Then hurry Mrs. Watkins, for I cannot guarantee how much longer I can stay around to claim the babe as my own."

Through all the guilt over what she'd done last summer, and what she still
wanted
to do, Mr. Watkins had never judged her or made her feel that her desires were shameful.

No one could ever understand her affection for that dear, sweet, old man. He had consoled her after she knew she didn't succeed in conceiving a babe the year before. At times, when she was in a particular sadness, he'd confess that he regretted marrying her instead of adopting her. But each time he said that she reminded him that she fully realized what she would be giving up when she married him. Too, she never would have had the opportunity for the education she did receive as his unwed daughter.

Only she'd never ever thought the desire to be a mother would tear her heart as deeply as it had. If she let it, it could ruin her. She fought the pain of loving him on a daily basis, and struggled to maintain control over that part of her life. And she did for the most part—unless Lucky was near. Then all rational thought flew out the window.

When Lucky was near she wanted nothing more than to create that child who would be her heart, and inherit everything Mr. Watkins built and she would maintain. When Lucky was near she felt a deep sense of calm that all would work out just as God planned for her.

"One pound sterling for your thoughts, my lady."

Her gaze snapped up to see Lucky standing in the doorway. His ruggedly handsome face smiled back at her. Perhaps his looks were not the current fashion, but just looking at him made her tingle all over and weak in the knees. Thankfully she was seated behind her husband's desk and would not fall at his feet, thus appearing like a silly girl.

"They aren't worth that much, Captain," she said when she found her voice. "You would be overpaying me for utter nonsense."

"I don't imagine utter nonsense ever runs through your head," he said. "May I come in?"

She quickly went to the door and scanned the antechamber making certain they were alone. "Yes, please." He crossed into the room and she slid past him out of it. "Excuse me," she said. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" he said to her retreating back.

"To lock the door so we will not be disturbed." Mary-Michael felt his eyes on her as she walked. She wished she didn't have this underlying feeling of guilt weighing on her. It was as though the guilt kept her from being truly happy in the relationship—such as it was—with the captain.

On her way back up the steps, she slipped into the privy closet, took care of her basic needs, and looked at herself in the mirror. She was a mess. She released the snood and loosened the braid in her hair. Having spent the first half of the day outdoors in the wind, some of her hair had escaped both braid and snood and curled like wisps around her ear. The puffy bags under her eyes stood out because of the many sleepless nights spent worrying over Lucky, over the construction of his ships, her husband, and most especially the guilt over desiring another man while still married. She was such a weak-willed woman where Lucky was concerned, and she wanted him in a way that was entirely sinful. He attracted her unlike any man she'd ever met before. To describe their attraction using the moth and flame metaphor was underestimating the willingness of the moth to be consumed.

Mary-Michael understood all the reasons why a woman would find Lucky desirable. Not only was he incredibly handsome, he was also a good man. He came from a large and loving family, with a similar religious upbringing to her. He was enterprising and driven to succeed. All traits any woman would admire in a husband.

And she was a flawed human. She was an adulteress—one who was lying to him and would take something from him that she knew he would cherish. All to satisfy her selfish desire to become a mother. There was nothing worse she could do as a woman, as a human. But she was already too far into her quest to back out now. All she had left was hope that God might one day forgive her.

As she stared at herself in the mirror, she didn't understand how this man could even
want
to be in her company. This line of thought caused the return of an old insecurity. Mary-Michael again doubted her worth as a woman. She knew she was not the most feminine of ladies. She had an out-of-the-ordinary lifestyle with regard to her choice of profession, and even her home life—living in a sexless marriage with her mentor. But she did want those other things that normal women had—a man to love her, and children to raise. Lately she felt like she'd made a mess of this whole desire to become a naval architect. But she didn't understand how wanting one could make her unworthy of the other. Did having this education and working in a man's world make her undesirable, or unworthy of love?

Mary-Michael didn't want to think too much on it anymore. Lucky would leave her soon. She wanted to enjoy their time together while he was here. And hopefully he would leave her with a babe for her to love in the many years to come.

Again she thought about what his reaction would be to learning of her deception. If Lucky ever learned he'd left her with a child, he didn't seem like the sort who wouldn't care. In fact, just the opposite. She remembered the night in her room when he told her of his Goddaughter, Maura. Knowing that he would keep and plan to raise a child not his own told her he cared about children and wanted a family. If she thought much on the magnitude of her deception at all, the guilt could consume her.

That was the main reason she had to keep from losing her heart to this man.

With one last deep breath to help strengthen her resolve to continue with her evening, she opened the door of the lavatory and went back to her office. Being late on a Friday, all the men had left and she and Lucky were really alone. She remembered his promise from earlier in the day. He said before the day was done he'd have her alone, and sure enough, he did. She wondered if he always got what he set his mind on.

When she reentered the room, she saw him staring out toward the dock where his ships were moored. "Where is Captain Ross this evening?"

Lucky turned and gave her a smile, his cocoa-brown eyes alight with happiness. "I believe he is moving into his new cabin. The man hasn't been this excited about anything since Sarah told him she was carrying Hamish."

"I hope he takes the time to eat dinner." She was chattering, she knew. Nervous tension began to rise again, as it had that morning, and she didn't know how to quash it.

"He's a big boy. Remember, he used to live here. And he knows how to find a pub."

"He doesn't suspect us, does he?" She was sorry she'd said it as soon as the words were out of her mouth. But, again, her nerves and guilt were making her uncomfortable.

He gave an odd chuckle and it made her wince. "He figured it out last night."

Her eyes burned and she squeezed them shut to force back the tears. She wouldn't cry. What she needed was to minimize the number of people who might suspect. Might even make an accusation to a grand jury.

"He won't speak of it if that's what you're afraid of," Lucky said.

She exhaled. "You're certain?"

"Very."

For as much as she wanted to apologize for asking if Ian knew about them, she wanted him to understand her position more. It's always easier for the man, he could leave and face no repercussion for having an affair. She, on the other hand, could easily face the gallows for what she's doing. "It's just... I wouldn't want him to think my morals were anything less than incorruptible. My reputation must remain untainted in order for me to continue to live here after you leave."

"Mary, he will say nothing. I swear to you."

He came to her then and took her hands in his. Looking down at her face, he gave her a crooked grin, his eyes full of mischief. "If he does, then I'll make him walk the plank."

She fell into his embrace and buried her face into his chest. Mary-Michael needed what Lucky could give her so very much. She could tell herself it was just the seed she needed from him so she could conceive a child. But with the way she missed him these long months past, and with the supreme joy her heart felt when she saw his ships the day before, it would be a lie. If he knew what her consequences were, he didn't seem the type who would continue with an affair.