They rode back to the castle in silence. The sea breeze picked up momentum, and the temperature dropped. Lillian wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, and Fabian cursed for not having the foresight to remove his greatcoat from the cart.

“Lean into me. It will keep the wind off your back.”

“I’m fine.” She held her body rigid, inches away from him, as if he carried an infectious disease and the merest touch would cause certain death.

He leant forward and firmed his grip on the reins. Trapped in his arms, she had no choice but to rest against him. After a few muttered groans, she relaxed. He would have to take his time with her in bed. While a fiery passion simmered beneath the surface, it was clear she fought to suppress her feelings. Perhaps it had something to do with her scandalous past. Perhaps she despised him. But then he’d seen the flash of affection in her eyes when he’d given her the bouquet, one he’d seen many times in their youth.

They rode into the bailey to find Mackenzie swigging from his pocket flask while he waited. Alerted by the pounding of Thunder’s hooves, the Scot quickly replaced the top and slipped the flask into his pocket.

“I was hoping you’d be a wee while longer.” Mackenzie gave a sly wink and then strode over and helped Lillian to the ground. “We’re almost ready. Come, my lady.”

A groom rushed to take Fabian’s horse, eager to tend to the animal so he might partake in the festivities.

Fabian dismounted and brushed the dust from his coat. “I expected to find a carpet of crimson petals awaiting us.”

“And you’d have had one if we had an endless supply of roses.”

Fabian offered Lillian his arm, and she placed a tentative hand in the crook. Whenever she touched him, his heart fluttered about like a wild bird in a cage. Lord, he’d have to get these strange emotions under control.

They followed a grinning Mackenzie into the castle, stopped at the large oak doors and gave a collective gasp at the sight greeting them.

Like a hive in the height of summer, the great hall buzzed with activity.

His men dashed about, brought in platters of meats, bread and cheese, and placed them on the long tables. One table ran along the width of the dais. Two further tables ran the length of the great hall. All the candles glowed in the wall sconces. The fire in the stone hearth roared, the flames dancing in celebration, too.

The women laughed and hummed tunes as they brought in vases of flowers and flagons of wine and ale. Some had a light skip in their step as they went about their work. Excitement thrummed in the air.

Mackenzie stepped forward and gestured to the table on the dais and to the two throne chairs in the centre. “My lord, my lady. Please take your seats for the banquet.”

Fabian stared at his friend and raised a brow. “Are you feeling well, Mackenzie?” He noticed one of his men setting up a music stand near the door while another drew his bow across the strings of a fiddle. The itch to accompany them proved great. “There are a few matrons in London who could use your skill for organising a party.”

Mackenzie chuckled. “Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them. That’s how it works in the Highlands though I fear you have the company of simple folk today.”

“If you can arrange a banquet in less than a day,” Lillian said with some amazement, “what could you achieve if given a week?”

“Allow me to warn my mistress that a Scot will take up any challenge when he’s had a drink.” Mackenzie inclined his head respectfully but tapped his finger to his nose and winked. “I have a few surprises in store for tomorrow.”

Fabian groaned inwardly. “I think you’ve enough to concern yourself with for now.” Catching the thief was the priority. Not because he cared about losing food and provisions. Trust and loyalty mattered more to him than money.

With the tables overladen with platters of food, everyone waited for Fabian and Lillian to take their seats before finding a spot on a bench. Soon the great hall was alive with boisterous chatter, salutes and cheers. Clearly, Mackenzie had given strict orders when it came to dining in front of a lady. His men ate with cutlery. They sipped their ale as opposed to emptying the vessel in one gulp. Freddie wiped his mouth with a napkin and not his shirt sleeves. But Fabian wasn’t the only one impressed with their manners.

“I must say I find your men rather civil.” Lillian placed her wine glass on the table and turned to him. “Where do they live when not at sea? Surely not in the castle.”

Fabian bit back a chuckle. Was that her way of reminding him she needed pistols? “Over a hundred men work for me.”

“A hundred?”

It took fifty men working together to sail a merchant ship and transport cargo. “There are but two dozen here at any one time. Most of them live in the cottages near the dock. The unmarried men share accommodation. Mackenzie is the only one who resides here.” Because he was the only man in the world Fabian trusted.

Lillian glanced at Mackenzie seated at the end of their table. “Your friend is a remarkable man, that is when he’s not kidnapping innocent women from the Pleasure Gardens.”

“He’s old enough to be your father.” Jealousy crawled through Fabian’s veins. Would she ever use the word remarkable to describe him? “What I mean is he takes the role of protector seriously. It was out of loyalty to me that he behaved as he did at Vauxhall.”

A vision of her wearing her pretty lavender dress flashed into his mind, of her laughing and dancing as gentlemen bombarded her with attention. After enjoying the company of high society, now she dined with men who thought salt pork a delicacy.

“I should despise him,” she said. “Drugging a woman is not what one would consider gentlemanly. And yet I cannot help but like him.”

“And what about me? Do you like me, Lillian? Am I forgiven for stealing you away from everything you hold dear?”

A dark sadness settled over her face. She fought back the few tears filling her eyes. The sight cut him deep. By God, he felt like the worst of scoundrels. He had not thought this plan through at all.

“I have always liked you, Fabian. Though I do not always agree with your methods or principles.”

“Believe me when I tell you, I wish there had been some other way of achieving my goal.”

“So you wish you could have saved Estelle without marrying me?” The tremor in her voice revealed an inner pain, and she struggled to hold his gaze. Ironically, he didn’t want to hurt her—he’d never wanted that. From the moment he’d uttered the words I will, the overwhelming need to make her happy consumed him.

“That is not what I said. I mean things might have been different if we had married under the right circumstances.” Part of him wished to eradicate the last eight years, although Vane would never have permitted her to marry a man verging on bankruptcy.

Their conversation was cut short by Mackenzie who’d found a gavel and sound block from somewhere, the thud of the wooden hammer capturing everyone’s attention.

“The men insist on doing something to mark the occasion.” Mackenzie hammered his gavel again when the sailors jeered and taunted their shipmates. “If it pleases my lord and lady, may I present the first of the day’s entertainment.”

Fabian could not prevent the wide grin from forming. Mackenzie was worth more than his hefty weight in gold. He gave a nod of approval and turned to Lillian. “Don’t expect to see skill like that of Madame Pesqui, the tightrope walker. These men are likely to fall off a plank after supping Mackenzie’s ale.”

Lillian’s smile replaced the solemn expression she had worn moments earlier. For that, he owed Mackenzie another debt of gratitude.

“Allow me to present Skinny Malinky.” Mackenzie gestured for the man to come and take the floor as the musicians in the corner of the room struck a few chords on their fiddles.

“Skinny Malinky?” Lillian screwed up her nose. “What an odd name.”

“Apparently it’s a Scottish term. Alfred has extremely long legs as I believe he is about to demonstrate.”

The fellow came forward, bowed to them and performed an odd folk dance that saw him whipping his long limbs up high in the air. His shipmates gasped and ducked for fear of being kicked as Skinny jigged about in the space between the long tables.

Next, came Freddie Fortune, a man known for being sleight of hand. With permission, he approached the dais. Lillian picked a playing card from a dog-eared pack. After sliding the card back into the deck without anyone seeing it, Freddie shuffled and threw some onto the floor before plucking the correct card from behind Lillian’s ear.

With his eyes trained on her every expression, Fabian experienced a sudden rush of warmth to his chest whenever she giggled.

“How on earth did he do that?” In her excitement, she clutched Fabian’s arm and the heat plaguing his body warmed another part of his anatomy.

“He has plenty more tricks up his sleeve if you pardon the pun.”

The festivities continued. Isaac juggled apples, much to Mrs Bell’s annoyance. The women came together and sang an old country tune: a heartrending tale of a sailor separated from his one true love.

Lillian sniffed numerous times, dabbed her eyes and sipped her wine. When the song came to an end, she breathed a sigh of relief, and he couldn’t help but feel she had a lost love somewhere.

His gaze drifted to the locket at her throat, and he fought the urge to ask to see the portrait of the gentleman inside.

After listening to a tune played on glass bottles, Fabian glanced at Mackenzie. “And what have you next, an imp who can raise snakes from a basket?”

Mackenzie chuckled. “From the breadth of your chest, I’d say you’re no imp, my lord, and some might say you make a noise loud enough to send the snakes slithering.” Mackenzie reached under the table and produced a fiddle.

Lord, no! “Surely you don’t expect me to play on my wedding day?”

“Aye, I imagine your bride would like to witness your skill with a bow.”

Lillian touched his arm again. “Please play for me, Fabian.”

He met her gaze. What was it about those enchanting hazel eyes that made a man eager to do her bidding? How the hell could he refuse?

Fabian pushed out of his throne chair. “Very well. But if I’m to play, then you will all dance.” He held out his hand to Lillian. “Come. Mackenzie will partner you, though you must follow his lead. I’ve tried to teach them various dances over the years, but the men have trouble following routine steps. Indeed, I doubt their movements will resemble any dances you know.”

Her eyes brightened as she placed her hand in his. “You mean there’s no one here to berate me for a misstep?”

“I told you, no one here will judge you.” For some unknown reason, he bent his head and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “You’re free to do whatever you please.”

“Then lead the way, my lord.”

While the men set about finding a woman to partner, Fabian left Lillian in Mackenzie’s capable hands. Mackenzie tapped a tune with his foot and twirled Lillian around as he tried to explain the basic moves of the dance. Fabian warmed up his fiddle by performing a series of short bows on each string, though the task proved difficult when his wife’s chuckles drew his attention.

The sound of the first few chords forced the crowd to stop their antics and fix their gazes on him. Fabian’s heart pounded in his throat. Not because he doubted his skill for playing and entertaining, but when Lillian stared at him, he glimpsed a look of wonder and admiration flashing in her eyes.

Mackenzie bowed to Lillian, took her hand and then the ten or so couples took to moving in time to the music. The steps were more akin to excited leaps and skips than any set pattern. They linked arms, swung each other around until dizzy. Their breathless chuckles were the perfect accompaniment to his tune.

“Make a circle,” Mackenzie shouted, and everyone rushed to find their place and grab their neighbour’s shoulder.

The faster Fabian played, the quicker their feet shuffled around and around the flagstone floor. Fabian watched Lillian. His wife laughed until she couldn’t catch her breath. A few locks of ebony hair came loose from her coiffure to bounce at her flushed cheeks. The muscles in his abdomen tightened, unfulfilled lust leaving a heavy ache in his groin.

Lord, had he expected to marry her and feel nothing?

Eyes wide with exhilaration, her gaze met his. Like a bolt from the heavens, the power of it made him play the wrong note. In the midst of their merriment, no one noticed. Still, in his eagerness to gain his wife’s attention, he skipped to the end and stroked his last note.

Everyone clapped and cheered, oblivious to his selfish act.

Lillian touched Mackenzie on the upper arm in a gesture of appreciation. Fabian strode over to them, weaving through the crowd who rewarded his efforts with a cheer or a curtsy.

“You were remarkable.” Lillian’s vibrant eyes settled on him. Only moments earlier he’d wished he was worthy of her esteem. And yet her praise wasn’t enough to satisfy the clawing need within.

“When one spends months aboard a ship, one must find something to do of an evening.” What might his nights have been like had he returned to his cabin to find Lillian waiting for him in bed? “Perhaps you might care to join me on my next voyage.”

“Perhaps.”

The brief silence made him acutely aware of his own erratic heartbeat thumping in his ears.

She placed her hand on her chest, the rapid rise and fall drew his gaze. “Heavens, I think I need to rest. It’s been an age since I’ve danced.”

“I doubt you’ve ever danced like that.”

A chuckle escaped. “You’re right, though I would rather a folk dance than the rigid, stifled steps one sees in the ballroom.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so hard.” For a reason unbeknown, a lump formed his throat, and he turned to Mackenzie by way of a distraction. “You’ve outdone yourself, my friend.”

“The day’s not over yet, my lord.”

They returned to their seats on the dais. Lillian’s breath still came in ragged pants, and he couldn’t help but imagine a similar sound breezing past his ear as he thrust into her warm, welcoming body.

Willie Wright, the only man ever to wear his hair in braids, stepped forward. “Is it my turn to entertain the master, Mackenzie?”

Mackenzie stood on the dais, arms folded across his chest. “I’ve already told you, Willie, I need to hear your poem before I’ll let you take your turn.”

Lillian nudged Fabian’s elbow. “I should like to hear the poem. I imagine the hours spent at sea would give a man time for reflection.”

Life aboard a ship was far removed from what one read in romantic poems. Food was scarce, illness rife, the weather unpredictable. “We’re talking about Willie. Every word he knows rhymes with ale.” Fabian cleared his throat. It seems he would grant his wife anything. “Let him recite his poem, Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie frowned and shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Willie grinned and bowed so low his chin almost touched his knees. “I can’t take the credit for the words, my lord, but it is a sediment I share all the same.”

“You mean sentiment, Willie.”

“That’s what I said, my lord, sediment.”

Fabian pursed his lips. “Then Lady Ravenscroft is most eager to hear what is in your heart.”

Willie nodded and straightened. “There was an old man who peed in the sea. The sea was too wide, so he peed in the tide, and all the wee fishes crawled up his backside.”

“That’s enough of that nonsense,” Mackenzie roared, jumping down from the dais to shoo Willie back to his seat. “Have you forgotten there are ladies present? Never mind about the wee fishes. You’ll feel my boot up your bahooky if you carry on in that manner.”

Lillian chuckled. “I found it rather amusing. At least it rhymed.”

“Willie meant no disrespect. A man cannot flout the rules of propriety if he doesn't know they exist.” Fabian had lived alongside his men for years. He could tell from the sudden change in the air that they were growing restless. “But I think it's time to send them on their way.”

Fabian cleared his throat and raised a brow at Mackenzie who understood his meaning.

Mackenzie strode back to his seat on the dais and banged his gavel on the block. “It's time to bring the celebrations to a close. Now, will you all join me in raising a toast to Lord and Lady Ravenscroft.”

Everyone came to their feet and raised their tankards and mugs in salute.

“Perhaps his lordship might like to say a few words about his new bride,” Mackenzie said.

Fabian glared. Damn the man. Despite offering many comments to the contrary, Mackenzie knew full well theirs was a marriage of convenience. What the hell was he to say? That he had drugged and kidnapped the lady and bribed her to marry him?

His men’s cheers forced him to stand. He turned to face Lillian, not knowing where the devil to start.

Lillian’s anxious gaze swept over him. He noticed her nibbling the inside of her cheek as she stroked the gold locket. How could he compete with a lost love? What could he say that would soothe the pain he’d caused?

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered as a tense silence permeated the room. “Just raise your glass and sit down.”

The hint of hopelessness in her voice roused the chivalrous knight in him. No, he couldn’t lie to her. And so all he could do was take her hand, piece together snippets of the truth and hope it conveyed a level of affection.

Her fingers were cold, shaking.

“I’ve known Lady Ravenscroft for most of my life.” Those who had sailed the ship to bring her to Raven Island knew only that they were ferrying his bride. Those trusted men who’d taken her from Vauxhall knew of his real motive. “But I remember the first time I saw her, not as a friend of my sister’s or as a neighbour, but someone I admired in her own right.”

Lillian squeezed his fingers as she stared up at him.

“Like the stars that guide us on our perilous voyages, she has always been constant, always true and unswerving in her devotion to others.” He thought of her love for her brother, of the sacrifices she’d made for him, for Estelle. “And so I ask you to raise a toast to my wife. A woman whose outward beauty gives but a glimpse of the magnificence within.”

The women in the audience sighed. The men nudged and winked as they cried, “Lady Ravenscroft!”

Fabian swallowed a mouthful of wine and dropped into his seat.

“Thank you,” Lillian whispered. “You didn’t have to say such nice things.”

He forced himself to look at her, despite knowing that the sight of her watery eyes would be like a knife to his heart.

“I meant every word.”

“What we all want is to see you kiss your bride,” Freddie shouted.

Lillian inhaled sharply at the brash comment.

“Curb your tongue,” Fabian bellowed from his throne seat. Failing to possess an ounce of sophistication or good breeding, his men would goad him until he surrendered. “You must learn to mind your manners when in the company of my wife.”

“I mean no disrespect, my lord, but tis a custom.”

Fabian raised a brow. “Next you’ll tell me it’s a custom for the bride to kiss all the men present.” The comment received a few chuckles.

Nancy Hill stood. “A kiss in front of witnesses is a token of your troth. A kiss is more than a sign of affection. It's a sharing of souls. Of a promise made.”

All eyes fixed on him. The women would doubt his integrity if he did not do as they asked.

Fabian captured Lillian’s hand and pressed a kiss on her knuckles. “There, will that not suffice?”

“You’ve kissed your horse with more passion, my lord.”

He cast Lillian a sidelong glance. “Mackenzie’s ale has bolstered their courage. They won’t settle until we've done the deed.”

The calls for them to show some display of affection escalated. Drumming his fingers on the table, Isaac beat out an annoying rhythm, and others soon joined him.

“They mean no harm.” Fabian had grown used to their wild ways. “They like to taunt and tease. As their lord and master, I can throw them all out if it pleases you.” One growl would send the mischievous pups running for their basket.

Lillian searched his face, her gaze falling to his lips. “Do you think they will accept a kiss on the cheek?”

“I’m afraid not. Sailors are a suspicious lot.”

“Then you should kiss me before they raise the roof.”

Fabian swallowed. Heaven help him, he felt like a boy fresh from the schoolroom. He bent his head until he was so close her breath breezed across his lips.

He cradled her soft cheeks and touched his lips to hers, a chaste press of the mouth that he expected to last mere seconds. But something happened in that uncomfortable moment. A sudden spark of energy. A shift in the earth’s axis. A change of temperature, as if a Divine force sought to bless their union?

Lillian opened her mouth slightly as her hand came to rest on his shoulder. Fabian stilled. Every nerve in his body sprang to life. The urge to devour her, to sate the clawing hunger in his belly came upon him from nowhere.

It was as if no one else in the world existed.

His hand slipped from her cheek to cup her neck as he coaxed her lips apart with the tip of his tongue. Good God, she tasted sweeter than honey. Her soft hum of appreciation sent a rush of blood to his cock. The floral scent of her skin assaulted his senses. Her beguiling essence surrounded him, pulling him deeper into the depths of his desire. He was so damn hard he couldn’t think. A fierce need to push into her body took hold. He wanted her in his bed, beneath him, on top of him.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Mackenzie’s voice. “Happen that’s our cue to leave.”

Fabian ignored the scrape of benches on the flagstones. He ignored the receding footsteps and the bang of the old oak doors. How could he focus on anything else when he’d been snared by a siren?