The Marooner (Pirates of the Coast Book 3) Page 13
“Of that, I am assured.” Lord Ferrers smiled. “Now, let us adjourn to the drawing room, for refreshments.”
In the fancy chamber, the use of which Leland never quite fathomed, Sophia drew him to sit beside her, on a sofa, and he played the dutiful, doting spouse for her benefit, although it was no great task, given he adored her.
“I was just telling my brother and sister that, perhaps, some day they might travel with us to America.” She thrust her chin, striking her matronly pose. “It might interest you to know that my husband renamed his ship for me.”
“How thoughtful.” Wilhelmine sighed.
“Indeed, Leland has done so many lovely things for me that I have longed to do something for him, and you are going to help me.” Taking his hand in hers, Sophia pressed her lips to his knuckles. “I have a gift I wish to give him—to all of us, really, and it has tested my patience, as we crossed the ocean. But now we are gathered, and I would reveal my news.”
“What is it, Sophia?” Gabriel furrowed his brow. “Do not keep us in suspense.”
Puzzled, and anticipating some revelation relating to a new dress and slippers, Leland just sat there, until she framed his face and held his stare.
“I am with child.”
Had he thought she glowed? In truth, she shone brighter than the sun, and then she kissed him.
His ears rang, and his heart raced, and her words echoed in his brain, until it dawned on him what she declared. By the time he gathered his wits and shook his head to clear his thoughts, he discovered they were alone.
“Why did you not tell me?” Now he exercised great care, as he lifted her to his lap.
“I just did.” She tittered and kissed him again. “It is not wonderful?”
“Of course.” In awe, he set his palm to her still flat belly. “I am going to be a father.”
“Yes.” She nuzzled his temple and licked the crest of his ear. “This is the first of many, I hope. And you need never fear being alone, again.”
Indeed, that was his most intense fear, which he had long ago confessed to her. In some respects, the anxiety plagued him, because his world revolved around his wife, and he should have known his bride would find a way to comfort him, as she put his needs before her own, in everything.
“I love you, Sophia.” He rested his forehead to hers.
“And I love you.” Shifting, she hugged him tight. “Now, let us rejoin my family, as they linger in the foyer, and Papa has something he wishes to say to you, which might further allay your concerns.”
“Oh?” He stood and carried her with him. After placing her on her feet, he wrapped an arm about her waist, because he needed to be near her, and she did not push him away.
The long case clock chimed the hour, and Lord Ferrers, along with Wilhelmine and Gabriel, presented a united front.
“Given the relative urgency surrounding your nuptials, I was grossly remiss in my duties, Leland. Permit me to correct the oversight.” The earl stepped to the fore. “Welcome to the family.”
EXCERPT
THE BUCCANEER
**Enjoy an excerpt of Cager and Francie’s story**
Boston
May, 1818
The love of a good woman could destroy a man’s peace of mind, because she often forced him to confront the less-than-noble aspects of his character, in order to win her heart, and he rarely recovered his sanity after the battle. It was for that reason Cager Tyne, former bosun of the pirate ship Black Morass turned captain of the renamed, respectable merchant vessel Lady Madalene, never sought more than free and easy access to a light skirt. Give him a three-penny upright or a disgruntled and dissatisfied wife, any day of the week, and he was happy.
Yet, as he admired the shapely arse of Francie Osborne, the young and pretty housekeeper and self-described Jane of all trades in the Cavalier home, as she bent to set a bucket on the floor and her cotton frock stretched taut across her hips, he was tempted to take up the fight, if only to savor a taste of her flesh.
“Will you fetch me another cup of coffee, pretty lady?” Sitting at the servant’s table in the kitchen, he held out his empty mug and smiled, which he knew from experience would ruffle her feathers, a pastime he rather enjoyed. “As I am quite thirsty this morning.”
“Get it yourself, Mr. Tyne.” Ah, there was the governessy tone that never failed to set his blood on fire. “I do not work for you.”
“Aw, now do not get your cute little nose in a snit.” As Cager imagined running his fingers through her thick blond hair, he licked his lips and relished the red flush of her cheeks. “I only want to be friends. Why do you always frown at me, Francie?”
“Because I know who you are, what you are, and what you want, and I am not interested. And it is Miss Osborne to you, sir.” When he stood and blocked her path, Francie bared her teeth. Bloody hell, he could have proposed to her, then and there. “Now get out of my way, as there is work to be done, and I have no time for the likes of you.”
“But I have time for you.” In a flash, he snatched the bucket and mop from her grasp. “Now why do you flee, when I just want to become better acquainted, beautiful Francie? Would that not be nice?”
“Mr. Tyne—”
“Cager.”
In that instant, she gave vent to a snort of frustration, and he could have kissed her silly. All that spirit wrapped in a dainty package he could not wait to unwrap, if she would simply cooperate.
“Mr. Tyne, give me back my things, and let me pass.” With her foot, she tapped an impatient rhythm, and he could not stifle his amusement. “Fine. I will dust the back parlor, first, and you can stand here, all day, and hold my mop and bucket.”
“My, but you are a stubborn bit o’ fluff.” Given her uncompromising demeanor, he shrugged, as he followed in her wake. “We could have fun, you and I. Why will you not take a chance on me?”
“Because fun is all you want, I am a good girl, and my father raised no fool.” She smoothed her crisp white apron. “What is your excuse?”
“You are a saucy wench, but I like that in my women.” He wagged a finger. “Mark my words, I will have you.”
“Would you care to wager on that, Mr. Tyne?” At last, he snared her attention, as she turned, faced him, and squared her shoulders, and her ample bosom distracted him. “Tell me, what can you afford to lose?”
“Are you that sure of yourself?” Surprised by her new tack, he rocked on his heels, because he was not only a betting man but also a winner. “Or would you prefer I think that, when in truth you are curious about me?”
“You are too bold by half, sir.” She snickered, as she returned to the kitchen, marched into the pantry, collected a couple of rags, and stomped to the back parlor, with Cager in tow. “And you mistake annoyance for curiosity, because I know your type.”
“And what is that, if I dare inquire?” Of course, it did not matter what she thought of him, because he wanted her. It was that simple.
“Mrs. Cavalier confides in me, as my family has served hers since before she was born.” After clearing a side table, Francie wiped clean the wood surface. “You were a buccaneer, as was Mr. Cavalier.”
“And you do not approve.” It was a statement, not a question.
“It is not my place to approve or disapprove of the master’s former occupation, though I cannot fathom whatever possessed Mrs. Cavalier to take him as her husband, but I do not have to tolerate it in you, Mr. Tyne.” Riding a wave of high dudgeon, which he found adorable, she tidied a stack of newspapers, and he studied her lush red lips, which he could suckle for hours. “And I certainly would never associate with you beyond the confines of my position in this household.”
Locking his legs, he folded his arms. “But you will.”
“Will—what?” She blinked.
“Associate with me, in my bed.” To increase the stakes, and rile her even more, because he could not resist her, he winked. “And it will make your eventual surrender all the more sweet.”
�
�Indeed.” The fascinating housekeeper scoffed. Then she smiled the sort of smile that gave him collywobbles. “Will you do me one favor, Mr. Tyne?”
“Anything you ask shall be granted, dear Francie.” He braced for the blow that he knew was forthcoming.
As she leaned near, he noted a subtle lavender scent, and it drew him as a bee to honey. “Hold your breath until that comes to pass.”
Then she rushed to the door, flung open the oak panel, and stormed from the parlor.
“You are a witch, Francie Osborne.” Now Cager chuckled, as she hiked her skirts and broke into a sprint, and he admired her shapely calves. “You cast a spell, and I am your most devout servant.”
ABOUT BARBARA DEVLIN
USA Today Bestselling Author Barbara Devlin was born a storyteller, but it was a weeklong vacation to Bethany Beach, DE that forever changed her life. The little house her parents rented had a collection of books by Kathleen Woodiwiss, which exposed Barbara to the world of romance, and Shanna remains a personal favorite. Barbara writes heartfelt historical romances that feature flawed heroes who may know how to seduce a woman but know nothing of marriage. And she prefers feisty but smart heroines who sometimes save the hero, before they find their happily ever after. Barbara earned an MA in English and continued a course of study for a Doctorate in Literature and Rhetoric. She happily considered herself an exceedingly eccentric English professor, until success in Indie publishing lured her into writing, full-time, featuring her fictional knighthood, the Brethren of the Coast.
Connect with Barbara Devlin at BarbaraDevlin.com, where you can sign up for her newsletter, The Knightly News.
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Twitter: @barbara_devlin
TITLES BY
BARBARA DEVLIN
BRETHREN OF THE COAST SERIES
Loving Lieutenant Douglas: A Brethren of the Coast Novella
Enter the Brethren
My Lady, the Spy
The Most Unlikely Lady
One-Knight Stand
Captain of Her Heart
The Lucky One
Love with an Improper Stranger
To Catch a Fallen Spy
Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me: A Brethren of the Coast Novella
The Duke Wears Nada
BRETHREN ORIGINS
Arucard
Demetrius
Aristide
Morgan
PIRATES OF THE COAST
The Black Morass
The Iron Corsair
The Buccaneer
The Marooner
KATHRYN LE VEQUE’S KINDLE WORLD OF DE WOLFE PACK
Lone Wolfe
The Big Bad De Wolfe
Tall, Dark & De Wolfe (January 2018)
OTHER STORIES
Magick, Straight Up
The Stablemaster’s Daughter
Table of Contents
The Marooner
Leland & Sophia
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
Excerpt of The Buccaneer
About Barbara Devlin
Titles by Barbara Devlin