Falsely Accused Page 4

  “How do you know so much about him, Libby?”

  “I hear things.”

  Had he and Libby lain together? Maryanne wondered why the thought suddenly constricted her heart. I want him to belong only to me, she thought fiercely. She couldn’t explain the emotions he aroused in her but they were all-consuming, primeval.

  After the evening meal, partaken in the cabin, Geoffrey ordered her to have his bed warmed up for when he returned. With shaking hands, once she was alone, she slipped on the shift Libby had supplied.

  The fine linen bed sheets were monogrammed with Geoffrey’s initials. She shut her eyes tightly and waited. There was a sudden bang, a muffled oath followed by the lamp flaring into life.

  “Next time leave it on for me, I hate fumbling around in the dark.”

  Maryanne watched as Geoffrey undressed in front of her. Nothing bashful about him, he took his clothes off and dropped them carelessly on the floor. She had only ever seen men fully dressed. Before Geoffrey put on a fine linen nightshirt she saw him in all his nakedness. His white body looked smooth as marble and hairless, except for a patch of gold tipped hair just below his naval. What would Jake’s naked body look like? Dear God, what was she thinking of? What was wrong with her?

  Snuffing out the lamp Geoffrey slid in beside her, and she willed herself not to recoil when their bodies touched. Because of the narrowness of the bunk they had to lie close together.

  “You’re a pretty girl, Maryanne.” His breath stirred in her loosened hair. “Ever been with a man before?”

  “No.”

  “I haven’t been with a woman either, but that’s our secret, isn’t it? Isn’t it?” He pinched her cheek viciously.

  “Yes, whatever you say.”

  “We can get along splendidly. I’m not hard to live with. Just keep the cabin tidy and my clothes in order. I can’t bear anything that isn’t clean, dirt revolts me.” He shuddered. “Always has. I’d die if I had to go down to the convict decks. At six o’clock you can bring me a breakfast tray. I always have softly boiled eggs, but cook knows exactly how I like them, same as I know what he likes.” Geoffrey snickered suggestively.

  Maryanne trembled when she felt him pushing up her nightshirt. She clenched her teeth, willing herself to endure this indignity. How revolting, having to lie there and tolerate his touch after he had probably been fornicating with Ben, and God alone knew who else. His caress, light and tentative, moved across her abdomen before journeying lower. His fingers brushed the silken fluff between her thighs. As suddenly as it began, the exploration stopped. Only when she expelled her breath did she realize she had been holding it.

  “Anytime Ben comes to me, you’ll have to sleep in the chair.”

  “What!”

  “You heard me. You’ve already guessed what I am, too, so don’t act so shocked. Just remember, discretion always.”

  “Does he come often?” she croaked.

  “As much as he can, depends whether he’s got a watch or not.”

  How low would she be forced to sink? What depths of depravity would she bear witness to before this hellish nightmare ended?

  She would carry the stigma of being a criminal and a harlot to the grave, but knew she wasn’t any of these things. They could humiliate and degrade her, violate her body, but they would never break her spirit, as long as she could hold on to the thought, that one day it might be possible for her and Jake to make a new life together.

  She closed her eyes, trying to force the ghastly picture of Geoffrey and Ben out of her mind. The act they performed together was an abomination before God and man. If she dwelt on it she would surely go out of her mind. Her last conscious thought before drifting off to sleep, was of Jake Smith.

  Geoffrey ate breakfast in bed propped up against three pillows. Two softly boiled eggs, and toast cut into strips. There was something almost childish about him just then, she thought.

  “You can get something for yourself now. Tell cook I said you’re to eat in the kitchen. You’ve got ten minutes, then I want some hot water to bathe in.”

  “Where’s the bathtub?” Maryanne glanced around.

  “See that door.” With a grin he pointed to what she assumed to be a wardrobe. “Behind there is a hip bath, one of the few luxuries father allowed me.”

  When she arrived at the kitchen, cook set a large bowl of porridge before her. “Lieutenant wants his bath water?” he queried.

  “Yes, in about ten minutes.”

  Porridge, liberally sprinkled with sugar; she wanted to savor this delicious luxury but dared not. It wouldn’t do to keep dear Geoffrey waiting for his bath water.

  “Good morning, Maryanne,” the soft drawl jerked her head upward.

  Even the baggy prison clothes could not detract from Jake’s ruggedly handsome veneer, and warmth tingled along her veins. On remembering her fantasy about him last night, warmth turned into a searing heat that burned deeply into her soul.

  He had the most wonderful eyes, a deep moss green, and his long sooty lashes almost rested on his tanned cheeks.

  “Good morning,” she returned his greeting cheerfully, smiling her pleasure at seeing him again.

  The sudden tightening of his lips, the grim set of his features puzzled her. What had she done to make him angry?

  “You spent the night with McIntyre?”

  “Yes.”

  “Enjoy the experience?” he growled with a savage twist to his mouth.

  “Nothing happened,” she whispered.

  “Don’t lie to me. If there’s one thing I can’t abide. It’s a liar,” he ground out.

  He must believe her. She couldn’t endure it if he thought of her as a harlot like everyone else. It came to her in a blinding flash. She had fallen in love with him. How? Why? When? The first time they met when he saved her from being crushed by the falling crate? When he risked so much to visit her in solitary confinement?

  “It’s the truth.” She returned his stare. Their eyes met and held and hers never wavered. His gaze became so intense she felt as if he were looking inside her head. She had nothing to hide. Nothing had happened with Geoffrey. Was he jealous? If so, it could mean he loved her, too. Please, God, let it be so, she prayed desperately.

  “I believe you.” He smiled with a devastating flash of white teeth, and the world momentarily became a brighter place.

  “All right, Smith.” A dirty youth with pus-filled sores on his face, thrust a bucket of horrible looking swill at him.

  “Breakfast,” Jake growled. The porridge she had so greedily eaten before, suddenly formed lumps in her throat, and she pushed the bowl away.

  “Starving yourself won’t help the others. It’s every man for himself on board a convict ship. If you’re strong you’ll survive, if you’re not, you’ll die. Eat up quickly, and go before some of the other captains of the deck come to collect their rations.”

  Maryanne watched Jake saunter off with a loose-limbed grace, yet she instinctively knew, beneath the veneer of resigned acceptance of his lot, Jake’s anger boiled. What would it take to erase the hatred embedded in the deep smoldering green of his eyes, and the thin, savage ruthlessness of his well shaped lips? Love?

  Cook handed her two buckets. One contained scalding hot water, the other cold, and as she struggled up the passageway, she moved carefully so none of the hot liquid would splash up on her.

  ***

  The next few days passed uneventfully. She only saw Jake from a distance, but his smile lit up her day.

  Geoffrey proved to be unpredictable. If he got his own way, things were reasonably pleasant, and he let her attend his needs without complaint.

  “You harlot,” he raged one evening, pinching her arms cruelly. “I need Ben.”

  She tried not to cry out with pain because it made him worse. In his ‘black moods’ he seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on her. She sustained several bruises from when he spitefully pinched her because things did not go his way. She wanted to pinch him back or slap the petulant scowl off his face, but dared not.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sure he’ll come as soon as he can,” she soothed.

  He flung himself down on the bunk and beat his fists against the wall.

  She waited until his tantrum subsided before asking. “Would you like a game of chess?”

  “Oh, all right.”

  She was smart enough to always let a poor loser like him win. She had learnt the hard way that it didn’t do to thwart Geoffrey.

  It disgusted her, being in the cabin when Ben came to him. She huddled in a chair listening to their gasps and groans, making sure to keep her eyes tightly shut. It was the ultimate degradation being forced to sleep in the bunk after Ben left.

  She would doze off and dream that Jake had come to her. His lips were always gentle, his body hard and warm as he cradled her in his arms. His whispered endearments caressed her like a litany. When she woke up the beautiful dream would be rudely shattered. She lay next to Geoffrey. He always slept soundly once his desire had been slaked, after a long, noisy session with Ben. On the outside Geoffrey presented as clean and fastidious, but inwardly he was filthy.

  “You win again, Geoffrey. You’re unbeatable,” she lied, feeling an absolute hypocrite.

  ***

  This one particular evening Maryanne sat in the cabin sewing. Several quick knocks came to the door then Jake’s dark head appeared.

  “You’re alone?” he queried.

  “Yes.”

  He strode into the cabin bolting the door from the inside.

  “What are you doing here?” She put her sewing to one side and stood, willing herself not to rush into his arms.

  “I’ve come to see you, my lovely Maryanne.”

  “Geoffrey will have you flogged if he catches you in h
ere.”

  “Ah, but the lieutenant is dining with the captain. These little soirées generally last for hours.”

  “Please, Jake you mustn’t stay, it’s too dangerous. I couldn’t bear it if they hurt you.” How darkly handsome he looked. With a full, white-toothed smile softening the hard planes of his face, he could easily pass for some Roman gladiator.

  “I’ve waited weeks for this chance,” he groaned, dragging her unresisting body against his own. His head lowered. Suddenly her tender lips were crushed under the savage onslaught of his mouth. His tongue, hot and moist probed and explored, plundering all her sweetness but obviously craving more.

  Maryanne gasped for breath by the time he raised his head, her heart beat wildly, but she didn’t want this moment to end.

  “It’s been purgatory,” he rasped, “having you share McIntyre’s bed.”

  “But you know nothing happens.” Daringly she reached up to stroke his cheek.

  His hand shot out and grasped her wrist. He inspected her hand carefully, turned the palm over and kissed it slowly, causing warmth to shoot up her arm.

  “So Libby tells me.”

  “You see Libby?”

  “On and off.” He gave a sudden wolfish grin and his eyes gleamed.

  “You’ve bedded her,” she accused.

  “Jealous, my lovely one? There’s no need to be.”

  “Have you?” Maryanne tried pulling away, but Jake’s steely fingers clamped around her wrist.

  “Yes.” His answer crushed her heart. Hot tears pooled in her eyes before trickling slowly down her cheeks.

  “I take and enjoy women whenever I can. Throughout my life there have been dozens of Libbys, they satisfy my more basic urges.”

  He used the flat of his thumb to wipe away the crystal droplets on her cheek. “They do nothing for my emotional needs, whereas you…” His burning eyes impaled her and she felt powerless to escape the fiendish magnetism of him. Not that she wanted to. She never wanted to leave him, but didn’t want to be merely one of his whores, either. I want more of him, she thought fiercely. I want all of him.

  As he traced the line of her jaw with his lips, his fingers fumbled with her bodice. “I want to gaze on all your white purity, before I make you mine.”

  She couldn’t answer. Couldn’t move. Could do nothing but let him remove her clothing. Slowly, reverently piece by piece, he stroked them away as if they were made of silk, not coarse cotton. She felt no shyness or shame standing there as he worshipped her nakedness.

  “More lovely than I ever dreamed,” he slurred, burying his mouth in the creamy hollow between her breasts. “Fate ordained we should meet one day. I’ve been waiting all my life for you.”

  He picked her up and carried her to the bunk. Maryanne couldn’t speak, could only stare at him as he dragged off his own clothing.

  She gazed upon his glorious nakedness, this perfect specimen of manhood with his long straight limbs and tanned, muscular body.

  Silas always ranted about the sins of the flesh, but Jake’s body wasn’t sinful, it was beautiful. Dark whorls of hair covering his chest arrowed downwards, widening into a wedge of tight black curls that crowned his virile, throbbing maleness. She couldn’t speak, just opened her arms in silent invitation.

  He joined her on the bunk, leaving enough space between them so he could gaze upon her nakedness and worship it before starting his exploration.

  Jake had never in his whole life seen such an exquisite body, like milky quartz, fragile and smooth as the finest porcelain. Her ruby tipped breasts burst into flowering life in front of his eyes, even before he lowered his mouth to suckle them.

  This was their time, maybe the only time they would ever have together. He wanted to make it memorable for her so she would never forget what they shared, wanted to make love to her for hours, but knew he couldn’t. A hundred lashes for him would be a small price to pay for a taste of paradise, but he couldn’t put Maryanne at risk.

  He gently drew one of the rose tipped buds into his mouth and she tasted divine. Her gasps of pleasure drove him crazy with desire, as he suckled her like a baby. One hand rested on her shoulder, the other moved slowly down her body, reveling in the softness of her skin, the flawless untouched beauty awaiting him.

  His trembling hand cupped the soft fluff guarding her sacred orifice. Carefully he parted the silken folds and slowly slid his finger inside. He felt her trembling response, and desire surged through him.

  “It’s alright, my darling,” he soothed. “This was meant to be.”

  His passion escalated until it rampaged out of control. She felt soft, moist as a dew-kissed flower, and he knew she was ready for him. He wanted to bring their lovemaking to the highest pinnacle of ecstasy, to prolong the pleasure, but dared not.

  Maryanne closed her eyes and floated away on a euphoric cloud that lifted her up and carried her away from the filth and depravity of the convict ship. She soared with the angels. Her head filled with sweet, soulful music and her heart brimmed over with love. She wanted Jake, wanted him to ease the throbbing need of her ripening womanhood, to extinguish the fire racing along her nerve endings, melting her insides with a scorching intensity.

  Finally when she could stand it no longer, he carefully slid his long, hard length into the forbidden place. Forbidden to any man but him. Momentarily, her body rejected his invasion. She closed her eyes tightly and a vision of Silas on top of Fiona caused her to recoil. She bucked desperately under Jake, trying to shift his weight away.

  “It’s all right, my darling,” he soothed, brushing the hair away from her damp forehead. “It was meant to be, you and I.”

  The veil guarding her innocence temporarily impeded his progress, but he breached it with one final, powerful thrust. Pain and fear suddenly gave way to exquisite pleasure as he moved inside her, deeper and deeper until her pulsating sheath closed around his throbbing shaft, taking him in until his manhood was buried up to its hilt.

  They rocked together in the throes of passion, heedless of anything but their own scorching desire and the desperate need to become one.

  “Oh, Jake.” His name came out on a long, satisfied sigh when their shattering climax came, and he exploded inside her.

  “No matter how many other men pass through your life, Maryanne,” he punctured the sentence with gentle kisses, “I’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you came to me unsullied. No other man will ever have the gift you gave me tonight.”

  When he finally rolled away, emotional tears spilled out of her eyes. “Don’t go yet.”

  “I have to, my love.” He rose from the bunk and dragged on his clothes. When he finished dressing, he stood staring down at her.

  “Maryanne,” he said gently, his eyes full of concern. “I want you to take this.” He pulled a leather pouch from his pocket and handed it to her. “It’s a special herbal tea, take some tomorrow with your breakfast.”

  “What?”

  “It will ensure no child results from our coupling tonight.” There was a sudden, hard ruthless thrust to his jaw.

  “Jake,” fear raised her voice and chilled her to the bone.

  “The Chinese have used it for generations successfully, it comes from the roots of a citric shrub called Paniculata Murraya.”

  “Is it poisonous?”

  “No, this is all I’ve got. Please, use it every time a man mounts you. Understand.”

  “Yes, but...”

  His eyes burned fiercely. “I might have been the first man to have you, but sure as hell I won’t be the last. One day, my son will come from your womb, fate has ordained it. Until that time, I don’t want your body sullied by carrying another man’s bastard.”

  He swung away and strode out of the cabin, and she collapsed in a shocked heap on the pillow. A child! Unthinkable on this hulk. She forced herself not to gulp down the herbs straight away.

  Would she and Jake ever see each other once they arrived in the colony? He had been so adamant, did he posses the gift of second sight? Dear God, she only hoped he was right and that their paths would cross again once they landed.

  ***

  Later that evening, a grinning, slightly drunk Geoffrey arrived back.

  “Did you miss me, Maryanne?” he leered.

  She stared at him in shocked amazement. Could he possibly know?