Chapter Fifteen
Tessa woke to slivers of light coming through a gap in the curtains.
It took her a few moments to realize it—she felt so warm and relaxed and sleepy—but Marcus was still in her bed.
Neither of her husbands had ever stayed with her after marital congress.
But he’d slept with her the whole night through.
She lay curled up against him. He was still asleep, wrapped around her, her back against his chest, one heavy arm over her. It gave her a glorious feeling of warmth. And safety. And . . . rightness.
That wasn’t the only difference. Something nudged her in the small of her back. Was that what she thought it was?
She felt cautiously behind her, and felt his member, hard, warm and erect. He was ready again? Already? She was used to once a fortnight, if that. But after the amazing experience of last night, she would be happy for more frequent congress.
She could still hardly believe the difference.
She stroked him experimentally and he stirred and gathered her to him.
“Good morning, Lady Alverleigh,” he murmured. “How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful.”
“Then would you mind?” He caressed her breast. “A little morning delight?”
Blushing, she smiled. “Yes please.”
He kissed her deeply and proceeded to make love to her again.
#
BY THE TIME SHE WOKE again, the sun was well and truly up. She never slept in so late. It felt deliciously indulgent.
Marcus, too was awake. He kissed her and said, “Do you want me to get breakfast sent up?”
She sat up. “No. I’d rather get up. It looks like a lovely d—“ She broke off. He was staring at her, and she realized she’d let the sheet drop. She wasn’t even wearing Daisy’s nightgown, she was naked. Totally naked. Blushing, she pulled the sheet up.
He laughed softly. “I’ve made you self-conscious, but there’s no need.” He kissed her again. “You’re beautiful, and I’m a very, very lucky man.” He slipped out of bed, and naked, walked to the door to his bedchamber.
Speaking of beautiful. . . Tessa had never imagined a man could be beautiful, but his strong, lean-but-muscular body was breathtaking. She’d explored that powerful body last night. And he’d explored hers. She shivered deliciously in remembrance.
The maid knocked at the door, opened it a sliver and said, “Will you want a bath now, m’lady?”
“Yes please,” Tessa said, and the door opened fully. The maid entered carrying an enamel bathtub and several more maids carried in buckets of steaming water.
Afterward, feeling fresh and clean and eager to face the day, she hurried downstairs and found Marcus waiting for her in the breakfast room. He rose and kissed her hand. “My lady.”
She felt like a queen as he seated her.
An oak sideboard was laden with a range of covered silver dishes. She could smell toast and coffee and a variety of other delicious smells, and suddenly she was ravenous.
She ate a hearty breakfast, starting with hot chocolate and porridge. She hadn’t eaten porridge since NannyJune had made it for her when she was young. According to her husbands, porridge was peasant food. But she liked it.
Next she filled a plate with eggs, ham and a small serving of kippers.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t eat all that,” Marcus suggested, looking at her plate.
“Why not? I’m hungry.
“We don’t know yet if you’ll be seasick.”
She gave him a mischievous grin. “All the more reason to eat it now. Whether I lose it later over the side of your boat—
“Yacht.”
“—will make no difference to my enjoyment of it now. And anyway, whose fault is it that I’ve worked up an appetite this morning?”
His complexion darkened and he looked a little embarrassed.
“‘Morning delight’ is the loveliest way to greet the morning,” she said softly. She buttered some toast, topped it with plum jam, and poured herself another cup of hot chocolate.
#
AFTER brEAKFAST THEY set out for Folkestone where Marcus’s boat was moored. Tessa smelled the sea before she actually saw it, fresh, a little salty and something else, distinctive and unfamiliar.
“Seaweed, probably,” Marcus said when she wondered aloud.
A few minutes later she gained her first sight of the sea, at first just a sliver of glittering blue on the horizon. “Oh, oh” she exclaimed. “Is that the sea?”
“Not quite. Just the English Channel.”
“It’s so big,” she marveled as they came closer. “You can’t even see to the other side.”
“The sea, the real ocean, is many times larger. We can cross the Channel in half a day if the wind is right, but it can take many days and months to cross an ocean.”
It was hard to fathom.
The wind was brisk, each wave topped with white caps.
Tessa gazed at it, mesmerized, as their carriage made its way into Folkestone and down to the docks.
The sea changed color all the time, just like the sky; one moment gray and dark, the next brilliant blue in the sunshine.
And the waves, steady and never-ending, but each one different.
She doubted she could ever find the sea boring.
She eyed the smaller boats that were dancing on the waves and hoped they wouldn’t be traveling in one of those.
“Which boat is yours?” she asked looking at the forest of masts.
“Yacht. That one. The Aurora.” He pointed to a sleek white boat, with several masts. She didn’t know anything about boats, but this one looked elegant, as well as being large enough to cope with waves. She hoped.
A couple of sailors appeared and collected their luggage. A man who she presumed was the captain waited by the gangway and a young woman stood behind him. Marcus introduced her to Captain Saunders, and then said, “And this is Betsy Madden, who will act as your maid while we’re aboard.”
The girl smiled, bobbed a curtsy and said, “This way to your cabin, m’lady.” She led Tessa to a set of stairs—rather steep; she was glad of the railing—and they went below.
The cabin was small, with a wide bed built into the side of the wall, and a rail along the open side. “That’s to stop you fallin’ out of the bunk if we get rough weather,” Betsy said matter-of-factly. She demonstrated how it could be raised or lowered.
Tessa hoped it wouldn’t get rough enough for that!
There was also a little round window, a porthole, which was fastened shut at the moment, to stop the spray getting in.
“I hope it won’t be too rough,” Tessa said, peering out of the porthole. “I’ve never been on the sea before.”
Betsy smiled. “Don’t you worry none, m’lady. This is a grand yacht, and Captain Saunders knows what he’s doin’. I’ve sailed on the Aurora many a time and we’ve never had a problem.”
“Do you work here all the time?”
The girl laughed. “Lord love ye, m’lady, no. Only when ‘is lordship has lady passengers. Me dad and brothers are all fishermen, so I knows me way around boats. And I’m glad of the extra pay—I’m savin’ up to get married.”
“Does his lordship often have lady passengers?”
The girl shook her head. “Nah. Only when his brother comes over from Zindaria and brings his wife and the boys—she’s a princess, you know.
And a couple of times Mr Delaney ‘as brought ‘is wife, only it’s always one-way with him. He won’t bring ‘is precious ‘orses onto a yacht like this.” Seeing Tessa’s confusion she added, “Every year ‘e brings seven young ‘orses over from Zindaria.”
Tessa, recalling that Marcus’s half-brother, Harry Morant and his partner Ethan Delaney bred horses, nodded.
Betsy showed her where various things were stowed and, with a certain degree of pride, showed her something she called the head, which was a small closet in which she could relieve herself.
Apparently fishing boats had nothing so civilized.
There was also a little alcove with a wash basin built in, so it couldn’t slip in rough weather.
It drained away all by itself, Betsy told her. “Just pull this little plug, miss.”
Everything was so neat and cleverly designed. Tessa found it fascinating.
“We’re about to cast off, m’lady,” Betsy said, “so if you want to watch, you’d better go up.”
Tessa hurried back up on deck and joined Marcus by the rail. “This is exciting,” she told him.
He smiled down at her and circled his arm around her waist. They watched as the sails were hoisted up and bellowed out as they caught the wind. And in no time at all the land was growing farther and father away as The Aurora skimmed over the waves.
Entranced, Tessa watched it all—the busy sailors, the fast-disappearing shoreline, the seabirds that circled, shrieking. The wind was brisk, and the boat bounced a little as it breached each wave.
“Feel all right?” Marcus asked her. “Not feeling queasy or anything?”
“Not at all.” She actually did feel a little peculiar, but she didn’t want to miss a moment.
“The fresh air will help,” he said. “You won’t be able to see the White Cliffs from here, but if it’s clear enough, we might be able to see to France.”
“The White Cliffs?”
“Yes, of Dover. The cliffs are chalky which makes them so pale.”
“Oh.”
“Never mind, we’ll see them when we return. It’s a sight that causes a lot of people to feel emotional—especially people who’ve been away from England a good long time. The White Cliffs of Dover is the first sight of ‘home’ to them.”
Tessa nodded vaguely. She’d only ever seen them mentioned in books, so she didn’t miss seeing them.
She squinted in the direction they were heading, but she couldn’t see France either.
But she was enjoying herself immensely, watching the prow of the boat breach wave after wave, sending spray up, and at the other end, watching the trail where the boat had been.
After a while she got cold—the wind was very brisk and seemed colder out on the water than it had on the shore.
Marcus noticed her shivering and scrutinized her face.
“Are you sure you don’t feel sick? You’re a little pale.
We can easily change course and head for Calais if you prefer. It’s a much faster journey.”