Alasdair
Isuppose I should be thankful my conversation with Ella went as well as it did. I will not deny that I was a bit nervous talking to the duke and duchess as I waited for her to arrive home. Unfortunately, I was the one that had to inform her parents of the rumor that bastard Percy had spread. I assured them it wasn’t true and that the man who started it was acting out of jealousy. They seemed to understand and take my word as truth, though it didn’t change the reality of the rumor’s damage.
Ella had been in town shopping, so it was my suspicion that she got word of what had happened while she was out. How she would react, I could only imagine. All I knew was that I had to make it right, and I had to do it fast.
“Capt’n Freeman seemed a mite pleased takin’ in that wee bastard Percy. The look in his eyes did’na bode well fer his new recruit,” Ewan announces with humor.
“Aye. That was the point. And Freeman owes me, although I had hoped to never have need of callin’ the favor. Keeping him in my pocket relieves me of potential headaches when I’m at sea. He’s a ruthless bastard, but one that keeps his word.”
“How the hell did ye end up in that man’s good favor?”
“I saved his life.”
“Saved his bloody life? Seems like that would call fer more than one favor, would it not?”
“Aye, it would. But I have no expectations beyond this one. That would be foolish.”
“An’ out of curiosity, how’d ye save the life of a ruthless pirate like Freeman?” Ewan asks, ever the curious valet.
“It was in the Caribbean. We were playing poker. It was a rather diverse group of players, ye see. I was hopin’ to gain information about a fleet of Spanish ships rumored to be planning an attack. Freeman and I were doing vera’ well and continued to play long into the night, sharing some good laughs and decent wine. Toward the end of the evening, an oriental-looking fella sat down, and I knew right away it was’na because he enjoyed the game. So, I watched his every move. Time went on, nothing seemed out of sorts, but when his hand dropped to his side, and his lithe fingers pulled a weapon out o’ the cuff of his sleeve, I had little time to react. When he brought it up to throw it at Freeman’s throat, I stuck his hand to the table wi’ me dirk. His weapon tumbled across and came to a stop in front of its intended target. Freeman picked up the strange-looking blade and examined it. It was perfectly polished to a mirror’s shine and looked like a star, each point as sharp as a razor’s edge. I’d never seen anything like it. Then, wi’out hesitation, Freeman sent it flying across the table, a shiny blur, the sound of it like the hum of a bee…it hit its mark with the precision of a master. The little man bled out within seconds, the burnished star protruding from his jugular.”
“Bloody hell, m’lord. Ye have’na told me about that. I’ve never seen one o’ those wee men from the East. Sounds like a damned hornet!”
“Aye. A dead hornet. An’ as ye can imagine, Freeman was grateful fer my keen eye and quick reflexes. He got up from the table, shook my hand, and said, ‘I’m in yer debt. Ye know how it works.’ And then he was gone.”
“Ye live an exciting life, m’lord, and ye‘ve got bollocks the size of boulders.”
I laugh at Ewan’s crass metaphor. “Aye…well…If ye don’t, yer a dead man, and I prefer not to be that until I’m old and weathered.”
“I can’na disagree wi’ ye there, sir. So…how do yer bollocks hold up to yer…eh em…fiancé?She seems a bit more formidable than the pirate that scared the bloody hell out o’ me today.”
“Ella Seymour is exactly what I never knew I was looking for. Ye know I can’na tolerate a simpleton, and I knew when the time came to choose a woman to be my wife, it would’na be fer sport nor a contract made to appease anyone other than the two of us. Percy may have expedited the inevitable, but either way, fate has brought me to my perfect mate, and I must tell ye…I’m damned happy about it.”
“An’ I’m happy fer ye, m’lord, I truly am.”
Ewan leaves me to my correspondence, and I spend the next hour writing letters and scheduling appointments for the week to come. I find I rather like this time of solitude, focusing on specific tasks, and getting matters tended to without distraction. Of course, there is always the sound of my quill scratching across the paper and the clink of its point on the glass well as I tap off the excess ink. It’s a therapeutic melody that eases away any tension and opens my mind to the plethora of words that can be combined into simple responses, from responding to the letters before me—Thank you, I’d love to attend, orPerhaps we should discuss this in person—to imagining detailed descriptions of the pleasure I look forward to bringing my bride and putting into verse—when I taste the sweet evidence of your release;the sensation of your taut nipple between my teeth,and yourcry of pleasure as I add more pressure.
“Pardon me, m’lord,” Ewan interrupts my erotic fantasy. “Ah, Lady Ella is here to see ye. Should I bring her in, or would ye like me to escort her to the parlor to wait fer ye there?”
A strange feeling swirls through my gut at the thought of Ella walking through the door while my mind is occupied by visions of her in ecstasy. “What a strange coincidence,” I mumble to myself. “She’s here alone?”
“Ah, no, sir. She brought her lady’s maid as a chaperone. But she has requested to speak wi’ ye alone,” Ewan explains with trepidation.
“Then, by all means, escort her here.”
“Aye, sir.”
A few minutes later, she walks through the door, her posture and presence as regal as ever.
“Lady Ella,” I say, reaching for her hand as I bow. She offers it, and I hold it longer than is proper. “This surprise is welcome beyond words.”
“Why do you do that?” Her terse question spikes my desire.
“Do what?” I feign curiosity
“Bow with my hand to your lips far longer than is required?”
“Because ye smell like something I’ve been craving fer a thousand years,” I tell her honestly.