That night Will attempted to sleep on the floor of their cabin for a second time, but in the early hours, Hattie felt him slide in beside her. He wrapped his arm around her in a now familiar hold and from the gentle snores which soon arose from him, she knew he had fallen asleep.

Hattie lay awake in the night. The moon which shone through the cabin window bathed the room in a soft pearl blue light.

Eventually she lifted Will’s arm from around her and slipped out of bed. Putting his greatcoat on, she crossed to the bench by the window and sat down.

In the bed, Will rolled over onto his other side, and slept on.

She smiled as she watched him sleep. He was a magnificent specimen of a man. Whenever he wrapped his arms around her, she felt butterflies flutter in her stomach. The woman who eventually married him would have a wonderful husband.

But Will Saunders was not for her. He was born and bred for the life of the ton. A world of wealth, fabulous parties, and self-centered people. That was the world she had left behind. Her life now had a purpose. Her work with the poor brought hope to people who otherwise had nothing.

Will for all his kindness would never understand.

When they returned to England they would go their separate ways. In time he would forget her. She knew however, she would never forget him. Never forget the first man who had held her heart.

She turned and looked up at the moon. It was close to a full moon. The moon’s light shone on the white caps of the waves. They looked like tiny white lanterns dancing up and down in a never- ending bob.

“Can’t sleep?”

Will had crept silently from the bed and now came to sit beside her.

“Just thinking,” she replied.

“Of what?”

The memory of standing on the gangplank of the Blade of Orion slipped into her mind. The emotion she felt before she took the leap into a new life, stirred once more.

You were brave then. Why not now?

She softly chortled and feeling her cheeks blush red, turned away. Will reached out and touching her face, drew her gaze back to him.

“Of what, Hattie?”

Her gaze fell on his lips. Those soft, warm lips which had captivated her when Will kissed her that first day in the town square.

“Of what it would be like to be your lover.”

She held her breath. Her gaze remained locked on his lips. She had been bold enough to say the words, but she was not possessed of the strength to meet his gaze.

Will took hold of her hand and raising it to his lips, kissed it gently.

“Do you realize what you are saying? I mean what being my lover would entail.”

Hattie puffed out her cheeks. She had held onto the slim hope that this was one secret she would never be forced to reveal to him. But if she was to bring their relationship to the place she desired, she would have to be honest with Will when it came to sex.

Hattie rose from the bench and bending over placed a tentative kiss on Will's lips. She had never taken the lead before in a sexual encounter with a man, but her heart called for her to take a chance. The worst he could do would be to say no.

“Yes, I do understand. Will, I am not a virgin.”

He returned the kiss.

“I take it the reverend decided he was entitled to liberties being your fiancé and took them before you left London.”

She nodded.

She had been led to believe that love making was a beautiful thing between a man and a woman. She had seen the shared kisses and whispers between Edgar and Miranda in the months after they were wed. How Miranda’s eyes lit up whenever Edgar touched her.

Girls at society balls had told her wonderful stories of secrets shared by their older married sisters of the joy of the marital bed. Of lusty husbands and moments of heady sexual pleasure.

When Peter had come to her room the first night, she had expected it to be a magical encounter. Instead it had been painful and degrading. When she cried, Peter had ordered her to remain still and be quiet.

His repeat visits had been just as horrid. She had submitted to him, but he had still used physical force to bend her to his sexual will.

“I know it would be different with you. You would be kind.”

Will brushed a hand on her cheek and cupped her face in his hands. He pulled Hattie to him and took her lips with his.

Loving, tender lips touched hers. He was everything a young woman dreamed of in a man.

His cologne was a heady mix of spice and masculine woody tones. She luxuriated in its welcoming scent.

When Will speared his fingers through her hair, she felt heat race down her spine. His tongue slipped into her mouth. He teased and tempted her to respond. She returned his kiss with slow responsive strokes of her tongue.

Will rose from the bench and pulled Hattie firmly against him. She felt the hardness of his manhood against the side of her hip. Emboldened by the effect she was having on him, she reached down and rubbed the outside of the placket of his trousers.

Will groaned in appreciation.

He deepened the kiss and she was with him. This was the passion and the connection she had so longed for with a man. Two souls connecting and sharing the quiet of the night together.

He pulled away from the kiss and their gazes met.

“Are you sure you want this? I will understand if you had a moment of rashness and are now having second thoughts.”

There was no doubt whatsoever in her mind. She knew exactly what she wanted, and it involved Will exploring every inch of her body with his hands and his lips.

“Yes. I am sure.”

She caught the sigh in his breath. It would have been a most uncomfortable night for him if she had changed her mind.

Will kissed her once more. His hands held her by the waist, while she gripped onto his strong muscular arms. In the cramped cabin their heated bodies began to warm up the small space.

Though they had been sleeping in their clothes, Will was not wearing his jacket or cravat and under Will’s greatcoat Hattie was dressed only in her gown with a light cotton chemise underneath. She slipped her arms out of the greatcoat and lay it on the bench.

Will made short work of the buttons on Hattie’s gown, before slipping it over her head and draping it over the nearby chair. When he reached for the ribbons on the front of her chemise, she gently slapped his eager fingers away.

“Let me,” she said.

She watched his eyes grow wide as she slowly, teasingly undid the bow and let the top of her chemise fall open. Her nipples puckered as they felt the kiss of the chilled night air.

She had never been naked in front of a man before. Her previous encounters in the dark with Peter had been conducted with her dressed in a neck to ankle nightgown. She felt wanton and desirable.

“Take off your shirt,” she commanded.

She intended to be as equal a partner in this sexual engagement as she could. There would be no lying quietly in the bed praying for the encounter to be over. Her time with Will was limited, so she was going to enjoy every minute she could.

Will bowed his acquiescence. “As you wish my lover,” he said.

At the sight of his hair dusted chest she reached out and touched him. She giggled.

“What?” he asked, placing his hand over hers.

She saw mischief dancing in the deep grey of his eyes as the moon was reflected in them. Mischief and the promise of much more. Her heart soared as her fantasies took flight.

“When I saw you for the first time after you pulled me from the harbor and you had no shirt on I was left speechless. I had never seen such a beautiful man. When you put your shirt on and your wet body caused the damp of your linen shirt to cling to you, all I wanted to do was touch you,” she replied.

At the time she had thought the effect Will had had on her was because she had just had a near death experience. Now standing once more in front of him and his semi naked body, she knew it was something else.

Her words of appreciation were rewarded with a hot passionate kiss from Will. He cupped her face in his hands and their tongues began a slow dance once more.

Hattie let her hands drift to the placket of Will's trousers and began to work on the buttons.

The Hattie of a month ago would have trembled at her work, but here with Will her hands were steady. She was certain of her need for this man.

As he stepped out of his trousers and threw them onto the nearby chair her mouth went dry. In the moonlight she beheld him. He was magnificent. Every inch of him.

His shoulders were like those of a Greek statute, broad and muscular. As her gaze drifted lower, she saw more than she had ever seen before on a sculpture.

English gentleman he may be, but beneath that veneer simmered a power she longed to release.

“Before we continue may I note something? This encounter is very one sided at present. I am naked while you are still half dressed,” he said.

Hattie reached for the straps of her chemise, and slowly slid it further down freeing her breasts fully to his sight. His manhood twitched and rose fully to attention. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. This was how she had envisaged the moment of truth between a man and a woman. Mutual passion and desire.

Emboldened by his response, she pushed her chemise down over her hips and stepped out of it.

He kissed her once more and whispered. “Lay down on the bed.”

She did as he asked. When Will knelt between her legs and placed butterfly kisses on the inside of her knee she shivered. He gently pushed her legs apart as he blazed a scorching trail of kisses up the inside of her leg.

When he reached the thatch of hair at the entrance to her womanhood, he pursed his lips and blew cool air onto her clitoris. When she shivered a second time, he chuckled with knowing delight.

“Close your eyes and give yourself over to me,” he said.

The instant his tongue touched her, her hips bucked. He slid his hands under her hips holding them up, opening her more fully to his attentions.

“Sweet...” was all she could manage.

The torture he brought to her body had Hattie gripping the bedclothes in fisted hands. When Will slipped a thumb inside her wet heat Hattie's eyes flew open.

Gazing up at the wooden ceiling of the cabin she gave in to the ever-increasing pleasure Will inflicted upon her. Tension rose ever higher in her body. He was a master at the sexual worship of a woman’s body.

She struggled to bring her mind back under control, this should not just be about her.

“What about you,” she stammered.

From between her legs, she heard him mutter. “All in good time.”

His tongue resumed its wicked slaving of her heat. Long skillful strokes worked around and over her sensitive bud. When the first throb of orgasm hit her, he released her legs and rose quickly over her body.

With one hard, deep thrust he filled her core, then withdrew and thrust home again. Hattie barely had time to register the change in their sexual engagement before her world fell apart in a shattering climax.

Will cupped his hand behind her head and pulled up to him, capturing her mouth. His tongue delved deep between her lips as she yielded up her mouth. He continued to ride her in an ever-increasing tempo of thrust and withdrawal. Her orgasm rolled on in waves.

“This is how it will always be,” he growled.

He slowed his strokes, but even from her limited experience of sex she knew Will had not reached his climax. Withdrawing from her body, he sat back on his haunches and stared at her. She rose up on her knees and came to him.

“Tell me how you want me, how I can pleasure you,” she purred.

She trailed hot kisses across his damp, sweat beaded chest. The heady taste of male rousing her once more to willingly give all that he could demand.

“On your knees, facing the wall,” he replied.

As soon as she had done as instructed, Will came to her. He wrapped his arms around her body, taking both her nipples in his hands. He softly squeezed them, rolling the tight buds between his fingertips. When she whimpered, a groan escaped his lips.

He gently pushed her legs apart and thrust two fingers deep into her heat. Her body was still throbbing with pleasure from climax, but he brought forth her sexual need once more with his skilled stroking of her bud.

“Will,” she said, the words a plea for him to release her from the torture.

He withdrew his fingers and her body welcomed his manhood once more. With hands gripped tightly on to her hips, he took her from behind. The position allowed a deeper penetration than before, the sound of their skin slapping against one another echoed in the quiet of the cabin.

“I want you to come a second time. I won't finish until you do,” he murmured in her ear.

Even if she had been capable, Hattie could not refuse him. Will increased the tempo of his strokes, he knew exactly how to ratchet up the urgent need within her.

On and on he plundered her body until she fractured in a sobbing desperate cry.

How long after that moment it took Will to come, she wasn't certain. She was no longer in control of her body. He possessed her completely.

Her whole existence consisted of the sound of his groans and the deep pounding of his cock inside her still throbbing passage.

Her only thought when he did finally come was to be grateful that the crews' quarters were on the other side of the ship. His roar would have done a lion proud.

They slumped in a heated pile onto the bed, arms and legs entangled.

* * *

Will woke several hours later. He and Hattie were still tangled together. Sometime in the night, he had managed to throw some blankets over their naked bodies. Hattie was warm. Her soft breathing told him she was lightly sleeping.

He leaned over and placed a tender kiss at the base of her neck. She stirred.

“Hello you,” he murmured.

Hattie rolled over and sat up. The blankets fell, revealing her breasts. His gaze was drawn to their rose peaks. In the chill air, they quickly became hard little buds. Will felt his cock twitch. He wanted her again.

He pulled her to him and kissed her. She responded naturally to him, returning his kiss in equal tenderness and hunger.

When they eventually broke the kiss, he saw the signs of slight swelling on her bottom lip. In the heat of their passionate love making earlier, he had bitten her lip.

Don’t be a rogue.

They had made love already this night, only a selfish man would ask it of an inexperienced woman to take him inside her once more so quickly. He would wait for Hattie to come to him when she desired his body once again. He lifted the blanket again and wrapped it around her.

“You don’t want to get a chill my love.”

Hattie reached out and touched his chest. Her fingers brushed across the fine black hair on his upper torso.

“What are those?” she asked.

He knew the question about his tattoos would eventually come. Tattoos were not something young unwed women were likely to have seen or even known about. Yet they were common among men of the upper social class in England.

In France, only the wickedly daring or those living outside the law were tempted to mark their bodies with ink. Yvette had been outraged when Will showed her the tattoo on his right shoulder, thinking somehow, she had been tricked into marrying a criminal.

The tattoo on his right shoulder was of a rearing horse with a crown overhead, standing over a cluster of three four-pointed stars. He watched Hattie’s fingers as she traced the outline of the tattoo's markings.

“The Strathmore coat of arms. I got it in memory of my grandfather on my mother’s side. I would have got one for my father’s family, but being French my father threatened to disown me if I dared to put his family coat of arms in ink on my body,” he said.

She touched the small black rose tattoo on his other shoulder.

“And this one?” she said.

Will cleared his throat. He had not mentioned his marital status until now, allowing Hattie to assume he had never been married. Informing people that he was a widower, tended to lead to awkward conversations. With Hattie, it was something he could no longer hide.

“This is for my wife. Yvette. She died.”

Hattie withdrew her hand. She went to move away, but Will stopped her. Yvette was part of who he was, and Hattie needed to understand.

She would be his wife for the rest of his life, but she would have to come to terms with the fact that Yvette had held his heart first.

“What happened to her?”

He had practiced the lie of Yvette’s death for so long, that at times he almost forgot the truth.

“She became ill and the doctors could not save her,” he replied.

The lie was better than trying to explain how an operation in the streets outside the Great Arsenal in Paris had gone horribly wrong, resulting in the deaths of four British agents and two French royalist supporters. No one in polite society needed to hear how Yvette had been stabbed by an assassin and left to die on the side of the river Seine.

“I am so sorry.”

“Thank you.”

He moved to the back of the bed and sat up against the wall. He held his hand out to Hattie, smiling as she came to him. She lay back in his arms and rested her head against his chest.

There would be time enough in the future to talk of his past. To slowly reveal the truth of the life he had once led.

They sat silently together and watched out the window as the first rays of the morning sun heralded the dawn.