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Philip was pacing along the length of his empty ship, from the fo’c’sle to the main deck to the quarter deck to the poop deck, and back again. Rufus had been there the night before, listening to Philip’s drunken ranting over the uselessness of viscounts.
“Then take the lass for yourself, dammit!” Rufus had said finally. “You’ll never be happy elsewise, and I’m bloody sick of listening to you.” Then he’d left.
Leo was not pacing with him. He was sitting on the railing with his back to the ship looking toward the Thames. The cat hadn’t looked the least upset when Philip had awakened moaning with a splitting headache after only a couple hours of sleep, nor had he looked concerned when his owner wretched over the side onto the ground below for his ship was still in drydock. It would remain there for another week. No longer needing repairs, the Robert was nearly finished being refitted for the use of Her Majesty’s royal emissary to Spain.
Except Philip didn’t think he could do it. How could he sail with Beryl’s father, with the man being a constant reminder of the woman he loved? Undoubtedly, Lord Angsley would tell him how she fared in her married life, thinking Philip would want to hear her latest news after saving her life.
One day, her father would undoubtedly tell him of her being with child. Philip had decided he could pretend Beryl and pasty-faced Arthur had no conjugal relations until that moment. Then, he could imagine tossing himself into the sea.
“Get yourself together, man!” Philip snarled, and Leo’s head whipped around, locking his thoughtful yellow eyes with his owner’s.
Was the cat telling him something? Slowly, Leo leaped from the railing, slunk low to the deck, and pounced past him.
When next the cat approached him, he had a mouse slung from his jaws. Quite dead.
Philip slapped his forehead with his palm at his own foolishness, then groaned in pain from the headache. A message from the cat! What an idiot!
But, on second thought, maybe it was. Leo knew what he wanted and he took it — like a true pirate — though the mouse might not appreciate his determination. The cat also had bestowed his affections carefully, purposefully it seemed, on one particular lady. A lady so worthy of love, Philip couldn’t imagine ever feeling the same about another, no matter how he tried.
Moreover, he didn’t want to try. He wanted Beryl.
If he thought she had no inclination toward him in return, Philip hoped he would be civil enough to ignore his own and to leave her be. Yet she had melted in his arms, and he’d known the desire to please her for the rest of their lives. And he still hadn’t even tupped her yet!
Glancing around his ship, he decided it was as good a home as any. His cabin had been spruced up while the other repairs had been made. Moreover, his mother had already given him the house in Newquay, with the most beautiful views and peaceful harbor, a perfect place to take their ease when they were in England. Indeed, a perfect place to raise children.
Unless Beryl truly wanted the life of a viscountess and desired London’s social whirl.
“I far prefer my simple necklace to the glittering jewels of the duchess,” she’d said in the coach, staring into his eyes after her second rescue.
Only one woman in a thousand would say such. Perhaps a woman who didn’t mind being a sea captain’s wife instead of a viscount’s.
Philip felt it begin in his toes and work its way up his body, an uncivilized, lawless — even barbaric — sensation. A resolve to take what he wanted.
“I am a bloody pirate,” he yelled, with only the cat to hear.
It was still early, thank God, too early for the wedding to have taken place. Maybe he had two hours if he was lucky.
Disembarking down the plank that rested against the side of his ship, he’d hailed a hackney within minutes. First, he would head home to wash and change, and then stop at Rufus’s house, for he needed help to carry out his ill-conceived, rash plan. His piratical plan.
Then the two of them — three, he amended, as Leo sat beside him — would race to the church of All Souls, where her father had told him the wedding would take place.
***
BERYL HANDED HER BOUQUET to Eleanor and let Arthur take hold of her hands. If only she could stop them trembling!
The rector was saying something, but her ears were buzzing and she couldn’t understand his words. In her own head, she could hear herself saying something she definitely should not say out loud, “I cannot marry you, Arthur.”
Biting her lip to keep from blurting out the thought that would ruin this lovely day, offend her fiancé, insult his family, disrupt the wedding, inconvenience the guests, and possibly disappoint her parents, she nearly drew blood.
Then a murmur began at the front of the church, and she glanced back along the nave.
Leo! He was sauntering up the main aisle, looking right and left as people made sounds or laughed. Some tried to get him to stop, with “Puss, puss, come here,” but he kept walking until he came to a halt directly in front of her, gazing up with those gorgeous golden eyes.
A laugh, admittedly nervous, bordering on hysterical, erupted from Beryl’s throat.
“I don’t think this is funny at all,” Arthur protested. “In fact, it’s disgusting. A flea-bitten animal, here, in church.”
The rector made a choking sound. “Actually, there is quite a long history of animals being blessed. St. Francis, for instance—”
“Vicar, please!” Arthur said to stop the man giving a sermon on animal blessings. “Beryl, won’t you do something?”
“Do something?” she repeated, thinking how wonderful it was Leo had come to her wedding, while the smallest sliver of hope began to grow in her that his owner had come too. Was Philip somewhere close?
“Shall I kick it?” Arthur asked. “Perhaps that might make it leave.”
“Certainly not!” The idea her fiancé would kick the animal that had saved her life in the alley! Then, caring not a whit if it messed up her satin gown, Beryl bent low and swept Leo off his stout legs, lifting him in her arms. He didn’t struggle at all, simply gazing at her soulfully.
“I’m sure he understands the solemnity of the occasion,” she said.
“That’s absurd,” Arthur sputtered.
And then in the silence of the shocked church, Beryl heard a noise overhead. Glancing up at the right-hand balcony, to the second level over the side aisle, she saw him.
Looking rather dashing in his black captain’s frock coat, with Rufus at his side, Philip Carruthers gave her a small salute. Immediately, Beryl relaxed as the tight knot plaguing her insides all week loosened. Her captain was here, and she was positive it could only mean one thing.
Sure enough, as the entire gathering of guests watched, Philip let down a thick rope which was anchored around one of the elegant Corinthian columns. Quick as a monkey she’d seen at the London Zoo, he climbed down, his booted feet gracefully landing on the tiled nave floor.
One of the female guests screamed, perhaps thinking they were under attack. Then Rufus’s laughter echoed in the rafters as he began to haul the rope up. By the time it had died down, Philip had reached the altar.
“Give no quarter, Lord Corsair,” called out his first mate.
“What is the meaning of this?” the rector asked.
Beryl stared at Philip Carruthers, realizing she was smiling, feeling relaxed for the first time in a long time.
“I have come to take what’s mine,” her captain said. Then he spoiled the serious statement by winking at her. Her smile only grew.
“Carruthers, are you insane?” Arthur asked, looking particularly nervous, for Beryl realized Philip had come fully armed with sword and revolver.
“No, Lord Wharton,” he replied, not taking his gaze off of her. “I am a pirate!”
The guests began to murmur in earnest. Her father and her cousin approached, and even the groomsmen, though looking reluctant, stepped forward as if to apprehend the intruder.
“Wait,” Beryl said, still holding Leo, who seemed as if he might doze off in her arms. “Let him speak. Have you something to say, Captain?”
“I have indeed. Will you come live with me and be my love?”
“I say!” Arthur exclaimed, but Beryl ignored him.
“Though you be a pirate, will you make an honest woman of me?” she asked.
He grinned, and she would have melted at his feet if she hadn’t the cat to support.
“I will, sweet lady. If you’ll have me. Will you take my name, my heart, my life?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied. “I certainly will.”
And her captain leaned forward, pulled her to him, squeezing the cat between them, and kissed her.
Pandemonium ensued.
As they broke apart, she saw Arthur blanch, if it were possible for him to become any paler, and then appear to nearly faint into the arms of his groomsmen. Her father’s diplomatic voice told everyone to remain calm and seated. Her cousin, the earl, sent a warm smile to his wife, Maggie, Countess of Cambrey, who was seated in the first row, before he shrugged. After all, what could he do?
Glancing toward her mother, hoping she wasn’t upset, Beryl received a little nod of approval and then her mother mouthed the words, “I love you!” Her siblings were instantly loud and raucous, and despite her father’s words, the youngest two jumped up and began to sing, “Beryl’s in love with a pirate!” over and over.
Oh dear!
“If everyone will come back to our home on Cavendish Square,” her cousin intoned, “the bridal feast will continue as planned.”
Guests who might’ve feared missing out on the splendor of the Earl of Cambrey’s townhouse and his countess’s hospitality heaved a general sigh of audible relief, and everyone got to their feet and began to shuffle toward the exit.
Even her parents, after herding her siblings into some semblance of order, left after she gave an encouraging nod of her head.
“I don’t suppose we can marry this minute?” Philip asked the rector.
“No, my son. Pirate or no pirate, even you must have a license with the correct names on it.”
Arthur had regained his composure and addressed her. “Is this truly what you want?” He gestured at Philip and even encompassed the cat in her arms.
“Yes,” she told him. “I’m very sorry, Lord Wharton. I hope you will be extremely happy in your life.”
He nodded and turned away. Then he looked back. “May I have the bracelet?”
“Oh!” She really shouldn’t be surprised. “Of course.” Moreover, she now recalled she would have a lot of presents to return. What a nuisance!
She set Leo down at her feet, knowing better than to hand him to Philip. Holding out her wrist to Eleanor, who’d stood silently at her back the entire time, Beryl let her best friend remove the sparkling shackle. Then, she handed it to Arthur. Without another word, he left along with his friends.
She’d been very lucky. He could have made this into an ugly scene, or verbally attacked her, Philip, or her parents.
“He behaved as a true gentleman,” she murmured.
“Pish!” Philip said.
“Pish?” she asked, letting him take her hand and thread it under his arm as they began to follow the stragglers out of All Souls.
“He behaved as a man whose heart was barely involved,” Philip said. “Elsewise, he would have fought me for you. I certainly would have fought me for you.”
She giggled at his foolish turn of phrase. “Which one of you would have won?”
He grinned again. “Undoubtedly, I would have thrashed myself within an inch of my own life to keep you.”
Halfway down the nave, he stopped, and her bridesmaids with Eleanor pausing to give her a jaunty, happy wave, continued out of the vestibule’s double doors.
Finally, they were alone.
“Now, I can kiss you properly,” he told her.
Cradling her face between his hands, he lowered his mouth and claimed her lips in a kiss which made Beryl sizzle down to her toes.
When he drew back, she sighed. “I could not have gone without that the rest of my life.”
He nodded. “And there’s so much more to experience. Let’s start at once, shall we?”
Willingly, she walked by his side, ready to go with him and be ravished.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To our ship, of course!”
Our ship! She liked the sound of that. She would make her home wherever he was.
“Why did you dress that way, as if you were going to sea? And why were you armed?”
Philip laughed. “To show everyone I was a true pirate, of course.”
“I always knew you were,” she told him.
Beryl glanced back for only one reason, to make sure Leo was following, for he was nearly as dear to her as his owner.
***
ON BOARD THE Robert, she soon discovered Mr. Churley had done his duty as a top-notch quartermaster. Even though they dare not show their faces at her bridal breakfast, she and Philip would have plenty of food and wine, and even champagne! They sat down in the galley to break their fast, eating whatever they didn’t have to cook — crusty bread and butter, cheese, pickled onions, sliced apples, cold ham, and champagne.
“Not a square of hardtack in sight,” Beryl observed gratefully.
“Never when we’re within walking distance of a bakery,” he confessed.
The only thing missing was the gentle swaying of the hull in the water, but a ship didn’t sway in drydock.
Philip assured her that would be rectified soon enough, as her father’s stateroom was nearing completion, and then the Robert would be launched once again.
Meanwhile, grabbing the open champagne, her captain was eager to take her to his cabin. Their cabin, or so it would become when they were married.
Beryl thought his eagerness was for obvious reasons, but when he opened the cabin door and ushered her in, she saw changes that delighted her.
A rug, curtains, a larger wardrobe replaced his old, small one, a second comfortable chair at the table, which itself was larger and sporting a tablecloth. And in the middle of this was the candlestick.
She turned to him.
“You did all this for me?”
He nodded, placing the bottle and his glass on the table, and removing his frock coat, which he rested over the back of a chair.
“I did. I just didn’t realize it at first.” She watched him lay his sword and his revolver on the table before pulling off his boots. “Not until I showed Rufus yesterday, and he laughed at me for creating a lover’s nest without a mate.”
“It’s perfect,” she proclaimed, setting down her own glass.
“It is now you’re here.”
Before she could react, he swept her up and laid her on the bed, then stretched out beside her.
“A new counterpane,” she noticed, stroking her hand across the deep-blue satin.
With a wry smile, he caressed her arm. “Yes, and new sheets and pillows and a towel on the washstand, but if you’re going to recite a list of all that’s new in here, we’ll never get to the best part.”
“Which is?” she asked, mystified.
“You. It’s been a very long time since you lay in my bed, my love, and the first time I’ve laid upon it with you.”
“That’s true. Before, I had only Leo. Where is he, by the way?”
“He is around,” Philip promised. “For once, we are not going to think about that blasted cat.”
“That perfectly adorable, brave, fearless, courageous, soft cat.”
“Those are terms you’re supposed to use for me,” he protested. “Except for the soft part.”
She had to tell him. “I do think all those things about you, except the soft part. I think you’re a magnificent man. I have since you rescued me the first time.”
“Really?” he asked, his eyebrows drawing together.
“Well, maybe not the very first moment. But you didn’t make me use a hole next to the bowsprit, which I still have no idea what that is, and you bought me a clean dress. I was only wary of falling in love — deeply in love — with a pirate.”
They stared at one another a long moment.
“I lied,” he said, causing her heart to speed up. Was he married already? In love with a bar wench?
“What?” she asked, wishing her voice hadn’t come out weak and breathy with fear.
“I am utterly soft in one regard. My heart is mush with love for you. Anything you ask of me, I will do if I am capable. I will spend the rest of my days, on sea and on land, loving you.”
He paused, ruining the poignant gravity of his words, by adding, “I would like to start the physical aspect immediately.”
“We are not married,” she pointed out, wanting to hear him state his fervent desire for her, his inability to wait to consummate the love between them.
“We will be,” he countered, “as long as you’re willing to marry a sea captain.”
“The wait is only a fortnight,” she reminded him.
“The wait is an eternity,” he said, then groaned and rolled onto his back. “You are right, of course. You deserve to be lawfully married before—”
“Before?” she asked, wondering what words he would use for the glorious act.
“Before I make love to you properly.”
“Pish!” she said.
“Pish?” Philip sat up again, leaning on his elbow and looking down at her, merriment dancing in his dark eyes.
“If you are a pirate, which I think you are, you had best get started with the plundering, yes?”
Philip threw his head back and laughed. He laughed until tears appeared in the corners of his eyes.
She hoped he wasn’t laughing at her, for she very much wanted to be plundered right then. Indeed, she had been thinking of it since first looking up in All Souls and seeing him in his dashing pirate garb.
“Beryl, you are a rare jewel beyond anyone. And it is my privilege to plunder my future bride.”