Chapter Nineteen

Moonstone Landing

Late August 1831

Draco was used to sailing on rough seas where the wind was wild and the waves were even wilder, their swells capable of swallowing up an entire ship. But the journey from Portsmouth to Moonstone Landing now that the Athena had been repaired was quite an easy one. They sailed on calm seas and had warm summer winds to greet them and guide their way home.

They arrived several hours ahead of schedule.

It was barely past daybreak, not even six o’clock in the morning, when the vessel sailed into the Woodley Lodge cove. The mist had burned off the water as soon as the sun came up, its bright sparkle intense and golden as it glistened over the cool waves.

James Archer, his friend and soon-to-be captain of the Athena, stood beside him on the deck, both of them resting their arms on the railing as the ship dropped anchor. “Those are the caves I was telling you about, James.” Draco pointed to the spot where Driscoll had been killed and McTavish made his unscheduled visit all those weeks ago.

It was just a memory now, for the Home Office agents had swept in the same day Eldridge arrived to claim his stolen horse. They rounded up all the parties, save for McTavish and his crew, since Draco had convinced the authorities McTavish was helping him all along. It wasn’t a lie. McTavish had reached out to him by sabotaging the old drop-off location and putting Draco’s caves forward as a replacement.

He had no idea where McTavish was now or whether he had dropped those guns into the ocean. He doubted the Irishman was that much of a saint. He’d probably sold them somewhere else.

His friend eyed the hollowed openings carved out by tides and time. “I suppose they’ll do for storage in a pinch.”

Draco nodded. “Yes, but only in a pinch. No more smuggling or privateer raiding for us, James. I’m going to acquire an empty building by the harbor and turn it into a proper warehouse. For the most part, your routes will be short ones—picking up silks from Venice, and wine, lace, and perfumes from France. Let’s see how it goes, and then perhaps we’ll expand to importing tea from India and vanilla beans from Madagascar.”

“It’s your ship, Draco. Whatever you think is best. So, will I get to meet your new countess, the lovely Lady Imogen, today?”

“Yes, she is eager to meet you. She’s asked me a hundred questions about you.”

“So, did you lie and tell her only good things about me?” James teased. “I’m sure she is more eager to see you. I will never understand why you left her after only one week of marriage to retrieve your ship.”

“She understood it was necessary. I would have brought her to Portsmouth with me, but her parents were here only for a short while, and she wanted to spend every spare moment with them. Her mother is in frail health, has been for several years now. Imogen is a sentimental thing and feels everything deeply. I could not take her away from them.”

“Still, you are her new husband. Will she be resentful that you left?”

Draco laughed. “Not Imogen. She hasn’t a mean bone in her body. She will welcome me with open arms.”

James slapped him on the back. “You glow when you speak of her. She must be a treasure. Now I had better wash up and dress like a gentleman if I really am to meet her today.”

“Don’t bother,” Draco said, suddenly removing his shirt and boots. “It’s too late for that.”

“What do you mean? And what in blazes are you doing? I was going to have a boat lowered to row you ashore.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll swim to shore. Just toss my things in my cabin. I’ll collect them later.” He motioned to his discarded attire.

“As you wish.”

Draco then pointed to the beach. “Do you see that little whirlwind in nightclothes running down to the beach with Parrot, her hair undone and no slippers on her feet? That is Countess Imogen.”

James shook his head and laughed. “She’s waving frantically at us… Well, it’s probably your attention she’s hoping to grab. Now that is a wondrous sight. One of the most wondrous I’ve ever seen in my forty years at sea. Give me that spyglass. Let me have a good look at your bride. Gad, she’s beautiful. And look at the smile on her.”

“Just keep looking at her smile and nothing else,” Draco warned.

“I’m going to knock you overboard if you utter another stupid word. So, are you going to jump in and swim to her, or waste more time scowling at me?”

Draco chuckled and waved back at Imogen. “Blessed saints! She’s going in the water. I had better stop her before she drowns.”

“Do you mean she can’t swim?”

“I have no idea.” He dove in, splashing headlong into the cool cove waters and swimming toward her as fast as he could. Even if she were able to swim, there were strong currents hidden beneath the water’s surface that might pull her under before she reached his ship. He wasn’t about to take any chances with his new wife.

Lord, his wife!

As little as three months ago, had anyone claimed he would be married, he would have called them fools. But here he was, a happily married man, and deeply in love with his wife, no less.

To his relief, Imogen remained on the beach, her prim nightgown and cotton robe hiked to her knees as she waded into the water. Dear heaven, he hoped his crew was not watching too closely. She had beautiful legs and a glorious body that he had explored in thorough detail on their wedding night, and oftentimes thereafter.

He had no intention of allowing his men too familiar a glimpse of his exquisite butterfly.

He continued to swim toward her, his strokes powerful as he glided through the water. She was hopping up and down, cheering him on. “Imogen, stop!” he called out to her when she waded deeper into the water.

He was not worried so much about her jumping in as what would happen when she got out of the water wearing those skimpy, wet clothes. His entire crew would feast their eyes on her gloriously wet body, every luscious curve on display, as the fabric turned sheer. He would have to kill every last man if they dared stare.

“Devil take it,” he muttered. “Imogen, wait there! I’m coming to you.”

To his relief, she had only waded up to her thighs and no further.

He let out a breath when he reached shallow water and closed the small distance between them. “I missed you, Butterfly.”

“Welcome home,” she whispered, laughing as the light breeze tossed her lustrous tresses in disarray, causing the long strands to loosely curl around her hips and bottom.

He lifted her in his arms and kissed her soundly while the waves swirled around them and gently broke upon the shore. “Good to be home, love. I thought I’d surprise you, but you are up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I knew you were coming home today.” Her smile took his breath away. “There’s to be a full moon tonight.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Is the moonstone lore still important to you? You married me before we kissed under a full moon. Do you think they will shine for us tonight?”

“I know they will.”

He kissed her again, knowing they would too. Her body felt soft against his, her breasts cushioned against his hard chest, and all the love in her heart flowing into him. Her lips were sweet as cherries, and he could not resist kissing her again and again.

This was not the way he intended to introduce her to his crew, but he was too hungry for her and did not care.

Imogen suddenly broke off their kiss.

“What is it, love?”

She began squirming in his arms and roiling the waves that surrounded them. She frantically pointed toward something in the water. “Draco! Look! I knew it! I knew you loved me!”

Hadn’t he told her often enough these past few weeks?

He was more relieved that she wasn’t crying shark.

She broke away from him and dove into the water, starting to swim toward the ship. Gad, what was she doing? Every spyglass on his ship was no doubt now in use and trained on her. He wanted to order every last crewman below deck, but none of them were going to obey, not while Countess Imogen was swimming like a mermaid and giving them a glimpse of her nicely rounded derriere every time she dipped underwater and out again.

“Imogen!”

Parrot was running up and down the beach, barking at something in the water. It could not have been anything dangerous, for he would have been leaping into the water to save Imogen even though hated getting wet. Who ever heard of a dog who didn’t like to swim?

“Look at the water, Draco!” Imogen called out, laughing and splashing him as he approached.

He was within arm’s reach of her, intent on grabbing her and hauling her to shore, when he finally realized why she was so deliriously happy. The moonstones. They hadn’t waited for the full moon to shine before bursting forth in all their brilliance.

He held Imogen tight in his arms while he looked around.

The colors surrounded them and were more vibrant than any he had ever seen before. Ruby reds and sapphire blues shimmering all around them. Emerald greens, and pinks and lilacs. Sunburst yellows. Every color of the rainbow. “Moonstones, Draco! They’re our moonstones!”

“Was there ever any doubt they would shine for us, Butterfly?”

Yes, it was high tide. Yes, there would be a full moon tonight. But those moonstones were not going to wait for the evening’s glow.

“He loves me!” Imogen shouted to his crewmen.

They all cheered her on. Was every last one of them on deck and watching her?

“Oh, Lord,” he groaned, knowing he was never, ever going to live this moment down. Not that he cared, he supposed. He wrapped her once again in his embrace as they watched his ship sail out of the cove to moor in Moonstone Landing’s harbor.

Draco carried Imogen back to the house. They were both soaked to the skin, a fact commented on by his cook and the scullery maids, who were just lighting the kitchen fire to start their day. “Welcome home, m’lord,” his cook said, casting him a saucy grin, since he still held Imogen in his arms.

“Good to be home, Mrs. Gregg. Will you feed Parrot some scraps? Keep him down here until we ring for breakfast.”

“Aye, m’lord.” But he heard her mutter to her scullery girls, “It’ll be more like suppertime, if that silver glint in his eyes is any indication.”

Imogen smirked as he carried her upstairs to his sprawling bedchamber. His cabin on the Athena was not even one-tenth the size. Nor did it have a large canopied bed or a fancy embroidered coverlet. No rug, either. Certainly not one as fine as the oriental patterned rug in these elegant quarters. “Let me help you out of those wet garments, sweetheart,” he said upon entering through the servants’ door and then kicking it firmly shut.

Was it bad form to leer at one’s wife?

She was just as eager to strip him out of his clothes. All was dumped in a sloshy heap on the marble tiles surrounding the hearth. But he took a moment to look at her in the light of dawn.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, admiring her softly rounded breasts and their dusky, firm tips as she shivered lightly.

He would quickly warm her up, since he had enough fire for the both of them, and fully intended to have her in flames and crying out his name within moments. They tumbled onto the bed, hungry for each other and greedy for every ounce of love to be wrung out of them. He kissed her and licked her, teased the buds of her breasts and teased the one between her legs, touched and tasted her, and held her when she shattered in her pleasure and cried out for him.

He felt his own burst of splendor not long afterward, for she was tight and hot, and he felt so good inside her. It did not take many thrusts before he roared to his own release, spilling himself inside of her in throbbing waves.

He collapsed atop her, his senses surrounded by the heat of their love.

Lord, she was soft.

So beautiful, too.

“I love you, Imogen,” he whispered, lifting onto his elbows so his big body was not too heavy atop her slight frame.

She smiled contentedly. “The moonstones shone for us. Isn’t it splendid?”

“They always will, my butterfly. Never a doubt from the moment I met you.”

“Does this mean you are willing to hold another masquerade ball?” she teased.

He fell onto his back on the soft mattress and groaned. “Never.”

“Not even if Lady Claudia Needham helps plan it?” She snuggled against him and kissed him lightly on the chest.

He closed his eyes, groaned again, then opened one eye to stare at her. “You are smiling like a kitten who has just lapped up all the cream in her bowl. Dare I ask why?”

“Lady Claudia is here, you know. She arrived the day after you left.”

“Oh, Lord. Just shoot me now.”

Imogen giggled. “She was quite affronted by our small, hastily planned wedding—which no one bothered to tell her about—and most displeased by the fact you did not consult her before choosing your bride. However, she has decided I will suit, and—”

“Hah! Was there ever a doubt?”

“No, Draco. We both knew it at once. But now—”

“Can you imagine the greedy, manipulative creatures she would have chosen for me? I shudder to think.”

“Yes, my love. Fortunately, you escaped their clutches. But as I was saying, it is now Deandra’s turn, and Lady Claudia is determined to make a diamond out of her.”

He sat up in a shot. “She’s only sixteen. Far too young to be out in Society.”

“Well, that is what I said, but Lady Claudia insisted Deandra has a lot of work to do before she is ready to be introduced to anyone. To that end, she has decided to move in here and supervise Deandra’s training.”

“For her come-out? And you let her?” His groan deflated as it escaped his lips. “Deandra has you. She doesn’t need anyone else’s help.”

Imogen cleared her throat. “Well, I never made it to my debut, did I? I fell in love with a pirate before the Season started.”

“What are you suggesting? That Lady Claudia stays with us?”

Imogen nodded. “She’s lonely, I think. Probably feeling low in spirits since her husband passed away. She has no children. You are her closest family.”

“Holy mother of sea serpents. She’s moving in with us permanently? You are too soft-hearted, Imogen.”

“It will make for a happy household. You, me, Albert, and Deandra, and now we’ll have Lady Claudia, too. Parrot likes her, so she cannot be all bad.”

“Well, at least she’ll keep Deandra away from unsuitable pirates.”

“Such as yourself?” Imogen grinned. “Thank you, Draco. You are doing a very nice thing for her.”

“I leave for a week and look at what happens,” he grumbled. “I had better not leave you ever again.”

He rolled her under him and kissed her with hungry abandon. “I missed you, sweetheart. I truly did,” he whispered, raking a hand through her hair to brush back the still damp mane. He made love to her again, this time taking it slow to savor all of her, especially her breasts that were too beautiful for words and tasted like sweet cream on his tongue.

Well, everything with Imogen was sweet.

Her innocence. Her ardor. The way she gave him her whole heart.

They washed and dressed at midday, then gathered his family for an afternoon ride into Moonstone Landing and a visit to the Athena, which stood out among the other vessels in the harbor. His men adored Imogen, and had the good grace to say nothing about their early morning swim. Both Imogen and Deandra were delighted by the tour he gave them. “I’m going to marry a pirate, too,” Deandra declared.

“No,” he and Lady Claudia intoned at the same time.

“You are a very pretty girl, Deandra,” Lady Claudia said. “Nothing less than a duke will do for you, assuming you are diligent in your lessons and take to heart everything I say.”

A few minutes later, Draco noticed Deandra hold Imogen back and heard her whisper, “Hah! Some chance I will ever snare a duke. Who wants them anyway? Most are too puffed up and insufferably arrogant. Besides, I’m sure all the good ones are taken by now. Ella got the last one, I’m sure.”

“Caden is still merely a duke’s heir and in no hurry to take his grandfather’s place as Duke of Seaton,” Imogen said with a chuckle. “There are others, Deandra.”

“Oh, I doubt it. Anyway, I will only settle for love. I want those moonstones to shine for me, too. I wish I could take some to London with me. I’ll put them in a fishbowl in Lady Claudia’s salon and watch as all the suitors march by. I’ll marry the man who makes them glow.”

Draco shook his head and sighed.

He had years yet before her come-out. No reason to worry at all. Was there?

He enjoyed the rest of the day with his family and James Archer, ending with a pleasant supper at the Kestrel Inn.

They all retired upon returning to Woodley Lodge. Draco looked forward to a night alone with Imogen.

As evening fell, he took Imogen in his arms, and they watched the moon rise together. It was a full moon, silver and glistening over the cove waters.

To his surprise, the moonstones began to shimmer again.

He had not even kissed her yet.

Well, love existed between them and surrounded them much as the air they breathed. It was just there. Unseen. Vital. One did not have to be showing affection at every moment. But he did love Imogen and felt so completely satisfied to have her in his arms.

He kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I love you, my butterfly.”

The moonstones went wild with light that night…and did so on the anniversary of their wedding every year throughout the decades of their marriage.

The End