Her Wicked Proposal novel Chapter 65

Charles kept insisting he was too young to crave what Godric and Emily had, but Jonathan craved it all the same. Audrey, the feisty little chit, was a warm wind on a cold day and just as wild. Like taming the winds, no sooner could he do that than tame the young lady. But he wanted to be with her for the wild ride she'd no doubt give him.

Jonathan turned his attention back to the sailors. The Maiden Fair was the last ship to come into port, and these three men looked ready to fall deep into their cups. The briny odor of the sea clung to their clothes. He crept closer, tracking them as they settled down on the stools by the bar counter.

"So then I says, 'Whatcha gonna do in Brighton? Ain't nuffin there but stodgy tight-breeches, and no wenches to visit,'" the old sailor boomed out in a voice natural for storytelling. The men on either side of him hooted in laughter.

"And what did he say to that?" one of the other men asked as he removed his gray woolen cap and mopped his sweaty face.

The man banged his mug down on the counter, sloshing its murky contents over the sides and onto the scuffed wood. "He says, 'Ain't no business of yours, but I've been hired to get an English gent and his new wife and that's where they'll be.'"

"Wot?" The man on the right blinked. "Ee ain't serious, is he? You don' mean..."

"More...cargo?" the third man finished.

"Aye."

The one with the gray cap shook his head. "That's more trouble than we're paid for."

The old one sucked his teeth. "Is he daft? We're short on crew as it is, and half the ones showin' up tonight are green."

"Ee says we're all getting paid double for the trouble."

The three men shared significant looks before they lowered their heads together, voices dropping low. There was no mention of Waverly, but something about the three men bothered him.

He couldn't have misheard them, could he? Cargo? That might have simply been some sort of slang for passengers, he supposed, but their tone and concern suggested otherwise. Was their captain planning on nabbing an English gentleman and his wife? That wasn't good. He couldn't sit by and let that happen. And if there was a connection to Waverley, there was always the chance this concerned the League.

This was going to be a long night. He splashed a bit of ale on his clothes and ruffled up his cravat and coat, then stumbled over and took a seat next to the sailors, calling for more ale. Having caught their attention, he gave them a friendly grin.

"Evening." He nodded and pointed at the barmaid. "Lovely little chit, eh?"

"That she is," the storyteller agreed.

"A lovely round of pints for my lovely new friends." Jonathan winked at the maid and then leaned in toward the trio conspiratorially. "Let's toast to lovely ladies, eh? I couldn't help but overhear you are bound for the Maiden Fair. I've just paid for passage on the ship. I'm happy to buy rounds for you gents who will be sharing the trip with me."

That seemed to warm the men up. After several rounds the sailors were spilling more than their ale, and what they had to say was both very interesting and not good at all.

He caught the maid's attention. "Sweetheart, I need to leave a note for you to deliver." Pressing a few coins into the girl's hand, he waited for her to return with a slip of parchment and a quill. As the sailors burst into a lewd song, Jonathan scratched a message. Then he handed the letter to the maid and whispered the address to her. After that he followed the sailors, who were now making their way back to the docks.

Jonathan sighed. So much for going back to my home to my own bed tonight.

Godric cradled Emily in his arms, kissing her always delectable lips.

"What about dinner?" she managed to ask.

"To hell with dinner, I have what I want, darling." He pinned her against the settee in their drawing room, one hand coasting up her leg as he slid her skirts up to her waist. In the low candlelight she was lovely, so lovely.

Her face flushed as she panted, and those violet eyes he adored sparkled. Emily was so beautiful it sometimes hurt to look at her. His chest ached and yet turned soft and warm around his heart.

"I love you, Godric," she breathed against his lips. Each time she said those words, it undid him. He groaned and slid his hand toward the apex of her thighs.

An anxious rap of knuckles on the door made them both jerk up, glancing toward the entrance of the drawing room.