Chapter Six
Rosamond covered her face in shame.
Her cheeks were still hot. Nipples hard. Between her thighs tingled, and the phantom weight of Tierney’s hard body continued to press and rub on hers.
Although the rumors at court were not about her, they might as well have been. She was a wicked, wanton. A harlot.
Fearing for her life one minute and leaping into the arms of a Highlander the next. A traitor to her family, her country. A few more minutes and she’d have been forever ruined. Blast it all, she was probably considered that now. His mouth, so hot and wet had branded her skin. And she wanted more. Wanted to quench the awareness pulsing within her.
She sat up, tucking her legs against her chest and wrapping her arms around. Oh, how she’d kissed him with such fervor. Abandon. How she’d wanted him to ruin her. Take her to the heights of pleasure each new caress brought.
Was this why Loretta had allowed Lancaster to touch her, ruin her? Because it felt so good. And with it, her chest had swelled. Emotions had swirled. A longing for connection. A bond she’d felt with this man since she’d let him smother the flames from her gown and stared into those deep, dark eyes. A common soul.
A heart-throbbing kiss.
Heat flared anew.
The image of her father’s face loomed in the space before her. The angry fire in his eyes, the red-mottled cheeks so filled with fury. Shame. For now, she truly had made herself into what he’d accused her of. A wicked woman willing to give up everything for the touch of a man. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. She didn’t have anything to give up. Nothing save her virtue, and what was such truly worth anyway since her father had already stripped it from her, even if under false pretenses?
She leapt from the bed and ran to the porthole, staring out into the blackness of the night. Golden stars blanketed the sky. There was no sight of the ships, just vast planes of rolling black sea. The sounds of the battle had echoed in her ears before. Had disappeared sometime while she’d been kissing and touching Tierney. The hardness of his back. The coil of his powerful arms. The strong tension of his jaw. Muscles had rippled beneath her fingertips. What strength. What power. What sensuality.
Rosamond had nearly drowned in the exotic sensations that flooded her.
Damn her, but she craved his heat, felt cold without it.
She shook her head, slapped her hands against the wooden wall and sucked deeply from the air of the porthole. Whatever illness had plagued her sister had now passed to her. Contagious it was. This heated wanting. Tierney had been filled with it. Awakened it inside her.
Focus. She had to get to Scotland. Away from her father. To disappear. Tierney had promised her protection, and for a fleeting moment when he’d kissed her she thought he might be her future, but now she knew that could never be.
He would have branded her a harlot by now. Chieftains, lairds, they did not marry women of loose morals. Oh, heaven help her… Tears struck her eyes. Tierney had been in London. He knew of her father. He would have heard the rumors. Assumed she was a harlot for the taking. A lady bent on ruination. Is that why he’d kissed her? Because he’d assumed she would be ripe for the taking, and oh, how she’d proved him right.
Rosamond sank to the floor, shaking.
The look in his eyes when his mouth had descended on hers had been so conflicted. She’d almost thought it was real.
Just as in the cave, her future was still uncertain. At least now, she knew she would not die alone, starved to death high above the sea. Nay, she’d die alone on land. A foreign land, for certes as soon as they landed in Scotland, he, too, would abandon her.
Then a thought struck her. Mayhap, she should simply become what was already believed of her—offer to be his mistress.
She shook her head. That wouldn’t do. Not at all. She was not a harlot, nor any man’s mistress. What was one kiss… Or a dozen, if she were honest. A few light, or heavy touches. She was still an innocent, her maidenhead firmly intact, and she would stand up to anyone who dared postulate otherwise.
Rosamond wanted love. She wanted children. She wanted a husband who respected her.
Had all of those things been stripped from her the moment she decided to save her sister from ruin? While her father lamented such was the case, Rosamond refused to believe it.
Stomach churning with anxiety, she crawled back to the bed, slipping beneath the coverlet and let the gentle rocking of the ship lull her to sleep.
She woke the next morning to a knock at the door. When she called through, it was only a swab, the oddest title she’d ever heard, bringing her breakfast. Without making eye contact, he backed from the room, leaving her to herself.
A short time later, he returned, asking if she’d like to be escorted to the deck for some air, but Rosamond feigned a headache, deciding perhaps it was better for the remainder of this trip if she stay hidden below. Away from Tierney. Far away from the sensations he elicited. And legions away from any thoughts he might have garnered about her.
If she was forced to take vows, like her sister had, then so be it, but for now, she simply needed to put miles between herself and England, and barred doors between her and the man she lost all sense to.
Tierney pressed his hands to the rail at the bow of the ship and rolled his neck from side to side, cracking it.
Devil take it, but he was wound tighter than an adder. Every time anyone came near, he was likely to spring loose and attack, sinking his venom into the closest victim.
And he knew exactly why.
Rosamond de Warenne.
Three days had passed since he’d taken advantage of the lass. Three days since he’d tasted sweet heaven and had to thrust it beyond his reach. Seventy-two hours since she’d come out of her cabin. Three miserable sunsets he’d endured while thinking of her glowing skin, wavy, golden locks and red, kissable lips. Lips she’d never share with him again, because he’d promised to protect her and the first thing he’d done when he had the chance was to pounce. Thrice now he’d woken having dreamed of her, and just as many times felt the shame of her whispered, please, stop.
What an arse he was. A vagrant of the worst sort.
Was that what ten long years of being imprisoned had done to him? Turned him into a ravager of the fairer sex?
To kiss her with such abandon was to be his doom.
In prison for so long, he feared he could not think clearly and instead of using his mind, he was simply tempted by a feral and insatiable desire.
Truth was, Tierney craved her.
And not just the feel of her lush body beneath his, though he feared he’d never be cured of the fever having had her thusly between him and the mattress had brought on. He longed to hear the sweet sound of her laugh. The quirk of her lips as she passed him a shy smile.
“I believe you’ve waited too long now.” Samuel set down a mug filled with ale. “Go.”
“What drivel do ye spill?”
Samuel chuckled. “I’ve been here before, my friend. Go and talk to her. Offer her some gift. ’Twill make ye feel better.”
“Ye know naught of what ye speak.”
“I know plenty. Do ye deny snapping at all the men and walking around half-cocked?”
Tierney rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not talk of my cock.”
Samuel swirled his own ale and then took a long swallow. “Who said anything about your bloody cock?” He snickered. “I simply meant you were high-strung, ready to snap.”
Tierney glowered at his friend and grunted. “I am the last person the lass wants to see.”
“I doubt that. She asked after you this morning when I brought her breakfast.”
“Ye brought her breakfast?”
“Aye. The swab said she’d seemed ill, complaining of a headache the last few days. Had to see for myself. Also checked on her wrist, which appears to be healing very nicely.”
“And her head?”
“Aye, she’s fine. Save for ’haps a bit of sadness about the eyes.”
“’Tis my fault.”
Samuel winged a curious brow. “What did you do?”
“Something I shouldna have.”
“You didn’t…compromise her, did you?”
Almost immediately, he was assaulted with the memory of her lush body writhing beneath him, the feel of her breasts in his hands. “Saints, I’m not a raging bull, though I might as well be. I kissed her. Most enthusiastically. I’m afraid I’ve wounded her.”
Samuel laughed out loud and slapped Tierney on the back. “It might have been a decade since you were last with a woman, but I’m certain you recall a kiss cannot wound a lady.”
“If ’tis unwanted it can.” He raked his hands through his hair.
“True, my laird, but I saw the way she looked at you when you brought her on board and again when you saved her from falling overboard. Not to mention when you took her down to the cabin afore we met the English. She’s taken with you.”
“There’s not been enough time for her to be taken by me.”
“Are you not… interested?”
“What does it matter?”
“I merely aim to prove that if you wanted to kiss her it is entirely possible she wanted to kiss you back.” Samuel drained the rest of his ale. “But do not take my word for it. Go and ask her yourself. Put yourself and the rest of us out of our misery, for god’s sake, else I have one of the swabs dress like a woman and present himself to you.”
Tierney glowered at him, nevertheless the glare only made Samuel grin harder.
Without even a sip of his ale, Tierney stalked down the deck toward the stairs. Outside her cabin door, he raised his hand eight times to knock before dropping it just as many.
What was he supposed to say?
“Who is there?” she called out from behind the door. “I can hear you skulking about. ’Tis indecent, you know.”
That made him grin. She was quite full of spirit, and he was happy to see he’d not completely broken her.
“’Tis Tierney MacDougall.”
“Well, glad I am you gave me your full name as the ship is filled with Tierneys aplenty.” There was some teasing behind her tone.
He waited a moment, and then realized she wasn’t going to open the door. “May I come in?”
She was quiet, then, “Why?”
Why indeed? “I’m not certain,” he decided honesty would do best.
“Then I’m not certain I should open the door.”
“Fair enough as last time I was in your cabin I assaulted ye.”
“Assaulted me? I did not think…” She trailed off. “I am quite certain what happened between us is…not unusual to happen between a man and a woman.”
“Aye, but not between an innocent lady and a scoundrel.”
Was that faint sound he heard, a laugh?
“Are you a scoundrel? Is that why you were imprisoned in the Tower?”
Tierney gritted his teeth, surprised. How did she know? Had she overheard one of the men say so? Or did she recognize him from court?
“Nay,” he faltered. “I was imprisoned for being loyal to my king.”
“And which king are you loyal to now?”
Her words were almost the same as Simpson, and he felt his chest constrict. This was a bad idea. He retreated a step, prepared to order the ship to double the sails so he might get to Scotland quicker and slake his need with someone less dangerous.
“Wait,” she said, a slight scratch at the wood as though she hesitated to open it. And then the portal swung wide.
Tierney had never seen a more glorious sight. Her rose-colored gown had been cleaned and mended, and she’d had a bath. Her golden locks shone soft in the light of the sun streaming through the porthole. Emerald eyes peered at him from beneath thick black lashes, and a blush covered her creamy face.
“Ye should have kept the door closed,” he said without thinking.
“Why? Do you wish to ravish me again?” She had the nerve to smile.
“I might.”
Her eyes widened a little and she pressed a hand over her heart. “You said I was an innocent.”
“Aye.”
“You believe that?” Something deep in her eyes hinted that this was an important question and weighed heavy on her.
He narrowed his eyes. “Aye.”
“Then do come in.”
“Is this a trick? Do ye wish to prove me otherwise or mayhap have me take advantage of ye again?”
His teasing made her laugh, the sound magical and warm, and racing over his limbs like a sweet caress. “Nay. But I am surprised you did not hear the rumors at court.”
“Rumors? I hardly ever pay attention to gossip. And truth be told I spent much of my time in the Tower plotting my escape and revenge. What is it ye think I might have heard?”
“The reason I was in the cave.”
“I confess I know nothing.”
Rosamond reached out to him, grasped his hand in hers and tugged him inside. “Then I shall tell you.”
“Please accept my apology, lass, for how I treated ye.”
She shook her head. “Ye need not apologize for having kissed me. Now, please accept my apology.”
“For what, ye did nothing wrong?”
At this, she slid him a teasing smile. “For all the horrible thoughts I’ve heaved at you the past few days when I thought you meant only to see if the rumors were true by kissing me.”
The woman was truly complicated. Tierney laughed. “And what did ye think? Tell me more?”
“Well, I called you a rotten chicken giblet, bacon brained pond scum and a few other unladylike things.”
“My, ye’ve quite a vocabulary.”
“My father would be mortified to hear it, but I spent much time with the servants growing up as he and his wife were not inclined to spend time with my sister and I.”
“Ye’ve a sister?”
“Aye, a twin. ’Tis where my story starts.”
Tierney allowed her to lead him into the cabin, sitting in the chair at the table as she poured them each some wine and unwrapped some sweet biscuits the ship’s cook must have slipped her. And that was where the pleasantness ceased, for she told him the story. Everything. And not a tear fell from her eye, and he knew why, for she’d gone past the stage of sadness and into straight fury.
Hell, he was furious for her.
“I vowed to protect ye, my lady, and I will. For all the days of my life, the Earl of Surrey shall never hurt ye again.” This was when he should have told her about her father imprisoning him, being his tormenter, but something held him back.
Rosamond pressed her hand to his, the warmth of it sending a spark to rise through his arm.
“You’ve already done so much. I would but pray you could find me an abbey to be my safe haven, and perhaps we could figure a way to bring my sister to Scotland, away from my father. I fear now that I’ve escaped, he will seek her out, and harm her and the child.”
“Ye wish to take vows?”
She shrugged daintily. “Truth be told, I do not. But I see no other way. I’ve no dowry, and my reputation in England is in tatters. My father, if he ever finds me will have me killed. And I dare not tell him the truth.”
Tierney shook his head, the words leaving his mouth before he had the chance to pull them back. “Then ye shall be my wife.”