Sairy bowed her head. “’Twas a sad day indeed for the young mistress, havin’ both ’er kin taken from ’er in one day. Come and sit with me fer a spell. Ye must be thirsty after yer ride from town.”
She led the way to the drawing room, placed the tray on a small table, and gestured for the captain to take a seat. He passed over a brocade-covered settee that looked as though it would buckle under his weight, choosing a sturdy high-backed armchair.
Sairy perched on the edge of a dainty stool near his feet and poured two cups of the fragrant brew, stirring a heaping spoonful of sugar into each. Flashing him a conspiratorial wink, she took a brown bottle from a pocket in her apron and added a generous ration from it to both cups before passing one to him.
“A right fine gentleman such as yerself needs a bit o’ manly sustenance after sech a long ride. Master Whitaker allus welcomed a cuppa me special brew when ’e came home from a busy day in town.”
James nodded and took a sip. Whether it was the sugar or the potent dark rum lacing the drink, it was certainly much more agreeable than the last concoction of hers he’d tasted. He settled into the chair and drank more deeply, feeling the tension drain from his body as the warm liquid flowed through his veins.
Sairy asked him about his recent voyage and chatted about the day-to-day affairs of Whitaker Hall. She refilled his small cup several times, each time topping it off with a splash from her bottle. When they’d finished off the last drops in the teapot, Sairy set down her cup.
“The mistress is later than usual,” she announced. “Mister Sprague may ’ave ’ad a bit o’ trouble with the carriage. Maybe ye’d best go an’ fetch ’em.”
“I didn’t pass them coming from town. Which way did they go?”
“They didn’t go ta town. Mister Sprague took her ta the same place she goes ‘most every day. Yer grandpappy’s tower.”
James leaped to his feet, his relaxed mood gone. “Blackbeard’s Tower? What the devil is that meddling female doing in my private quarters?”
“She goes there seekin’ ta find what she’s lost,” Sairy replied softly.
James stormed out the door, promising Sairy he’d bring the mistress back to Whitaker Hall, dragging her by the hair if necessary. Spurring his horse to a gallop, he headed for the tower.
“Now she’s invading my home, my sanctum – without even a by-your-leave. I swear I’ll show that woman her place once and for all,” he muttered. “She thought I spanked hard before? That was nothing compared to the walloping I’ll give her when I get hold of her.”
Rage fueled his ride and, before long, James caught sight of Blackbeard’s Tower. Mr. Sprague came out of the tower and greeted him with a firm handshake as he dismounted.
“’Tis good ta see ye, Cap’n. Welcome home.”
James brushed him aside. “Where is that cursed female?”
“She be in the upper room, restin’ a bit.”
“Resting?” he bellowed. “It’s the last time she’ll trespass on my property. Bad enough she invaded my ship without permission. Now she’s taking over on land as well!” James took the stairs two at a time and yanked the door open.
He stopped dead at the sight of her. Mercy lay facing him, eyes closed, deep asleep. Her long dark tresses curled around her face and brushed the tips of those magnificent breasts, larger and more lush than he remembered.
She was even more beautiful, more desirable, than the image inhabiting his dreams. Mercy wore a soft frock in a color that matched the turquoise seas of the reef. One arm was beneath her head. The other arm nestled protectively around her waist, cradling a distinctive mound in her belly.
The knowledge hit him like a punch to the gut. She was with child – and the child was his.