Read Brazen Temptress Online

Authors: Elizabeth Boyle

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

Brazen Temptress (35 page)

And after a few months in London, Julien convinced his wife that for Ethan's sake and in memory of her father they should seek to have the Hawthorne title returned to its rightful holder.

An announcement that immediately divided the scandal-happy
ton
of London.

Eustacia Bennett, nee Cottwell, the current Lady Hawthorne, was a proper young matron, married with a child on the way. The old guard rallied to her defense, looking with a skeptical eye at the possibility of having to acknowledge the dashing and just a bit unseemly Mrs. Julien D'Artiers.

It had taken Giles's and Webb's considerable pull to have the case of Ethan Hawthorne reopened, and with the testimony of Lady Mary and Aunt Pettigrew as to Maureen's rightful paternity, it was obvious there had been a grievous mistake.

Still, Eustacia was not her father's daughter for nothing, and she started a vicious gossip campaign to undermine Maureen's case and reputation.

Rather than use such public tactics, Maureen and Julien presented the Lord Admiral's haughty and arrogant daughter with an impressive and irrefutable ledger of information about her father's less than honorable acts as Lord Admiral — the likes of which, if made known, would keep her from polite society for the rest of her life.

Rather than have her father's memory sullied, Eustacia acknowledged the error in inheritance, surrendered the Hawthorne title to Maureen, and quietly retired to her mother's Welton dower lands in the north country.

Maureen strolled across the dark lawns of her home and entered the house by a side door she'd left unlocked.

The servants knew better than to latch that door on a moonless night. Having been raised on Hawthorne lands, each and every one of them, they knew enough to turn a blind eye to such goings on.

Julien would be incensed at her taking such risks, she thought as she passed his portrait hanging in the long gallery. While the likeness captured him standing on the bow of one of his ships, she knew the dashing man done in oil was lost to her — having become as stuffy and rigid as the rest of England.

A new queen and a growing prosperity in the country had ushered in a more proper and decorous society. Maureen felt as out of tune with her peers as she did with her husband.

When had it happened? When had they drifted apart?

She didn't know. All she knew was that she missed him. Missed the excitement they once shared.

As she passed Julien's office, she noticed a light shimmering in the shadows.

How odd, she thought. Julien was up in London, as he often was each month. Which turned out to be quite convenient, since she could then go about her smuggling activities without his knowledge.

She opened the door and crossed the room toward the single candle on his desk. As she leaned over to blow it out, his chair swung around and she found herself eye to eye with her husband.

His eyes glittered with an old fire she hadn't seen in years. "There you are, Reenie. I wondered where you were. Odd that none of the servants seemed to be able to tell me where you'd gone on such a wild night."

Reenie.

He hadn't called her that in years. The sound of her old nickname thrilled her, as did the dangerous challenge behind his words.

"I needed some air," she told him, her gaze locked with his.

"And that was all?"

She nodded.

He caught her arm and pulled her closer. "Isn't the beach path rather dangerous in this weather? You never know what sorts may wash ashore. Villains, blackguards ...
smugglers."

Maureen's next breath caught in her chest.

He knew.
He'd been there, watching her.

Still she tried to brazen it out. "Smugglers? Blackguards?" She laughed. "Julien, you've been reading your old log books to the grandchildren again, haven't you?"

"Reenie," he said, his tone low and dangerous.

"Oh, Julien, it was just one load of brandy."

He stared at her, one brow cocked upward.

"And some tea," she admitted. "Just this once. It was a lark, just a chance to try out Ethan's new ship."

He coughed and shook his head.

"Well, maybe more than once," she told him.

"Try every month for the last year," he corrected.

She bit her lip. Oh, she'd done it now. He was probably furious with her. He would probably leave her. A respected shipbuilder with ties to the government couldn't very well have a smuggler for a wife.

But instead, he swept aside the papers on his desk, blew out the candle, and pushed it aside as well. He caught her in his arms and pinned her down on the cherry-wood desk top. "You wild, untamed lass. What am I ever going to do with you?"

His mouth swooped down on hers and kissed her with an abandon that she had thought lost between them. His mouth claimed hers, teasing her lips, begging her to open up to his hunger.

She answered with a deep sigh of longing. "Julien."

For some time they kissed, as if they'd never before met, as if all their years of marriage and raising children and sharing the same bed had been erased.

"Reenie, oh, Reenie, I'm so sorry," Julien whispered into her ear.

She leaned back and looked at him. "Whatever for? I was the one who risked so much. Smuggling, and at my age!"

"You aren't of an age. To me you are timeless. And it is I who should be apologizing. I'd forgotten what it was like. I became so embroiled in the ships and the yard and cargoes that I forgot." He kissed her again, this time slowly and tenderly.

"I thought you'd be so angry," she told him. "If you found out."

"I have to admit, I wasn't all that pleased when I discovered the midnight ventures of you and Ethan, but then as I investigated it I found myself tempted to join in your misdeeds. The cargoes, the signals, the cover of night. I hadn't felt that alive since we left the
Destiny.
And it struck me hard that I've let myself become landlocked."

She smiled. The pride and regret in his voice were like manna, feeding her soul anew.

"And then, as I found myself waiting each month for the moon to wane, waiting for your night to arrive, I realized what you'd been missing all these years. What we'd lost."

Tears filled her eyes. "What do we do now?"

He rose from the desk and held out his hand to her. His fingers wound around hers with a familiar warmth and strength. He led her upstairs to the room they'd shared all these years. Candles glowed from the mantel, while a low bed of glowing embers lay banked in the fireplace.

She entered the room sensing something was different. And there on the bed she saw why.

Gracing the expensive satin counterpane were her old clothes. Her shirt, her breeches, and her dagger.

And beside them, a model of a clipper. The most beautiful ship she'd ever seen.

"I don't understand," she said to him.

"Wear them again, Reenie. Come sail with me. We'll explore the world." He picked up the model and handed it to her.

She held it in her hands and gazed at the fine vessel. On the bow was inscribed the ship's name.

The
Temptress.

"She's yours. I had her built for you. We'll take her around the world; just say the word." He grinned at her, that boyish charm alive in his eyes as if it had never been lost. "We'll go down around the Horn, to India, to the China seas, and eventually we'll find our way to this cay I once visited in the West Indies, where the water is so blue ... well, let me show you how blue."

He caught her hand and pulled her toward the mirror over the mantel. Gently, he pulled the stray tendrils of hair back from her face, and from behind her he nodded toward their reflection. "Like your eyes. I want to swim in that water again. I want to see you on that beach." He kissed her again, the kind that said he wanted to do more than just walk hand in hand along that sand strand.

When he released her he knelt by the bed and started pulling out charts hidden beneath it, spreading them out at her feet. "We'll live like we used to, barefoot and happy. Just tell me that you'll come with me."

Maureen's lips trembled, her vision awash with tears. "You'd go to sea again? With me?"

"Oh, yes, Reenie, my love. I want nothing more. I was a fool to ever make you leave it."

At this she shook her head. "No, Julien. Don't say that. We made the right choice, regaining the Hall, giving Ethan his heritage, raising a family. We've done what we were supposed to do."

"And now?"

She took a deep breath. "We'll shock everyone. Including the children."

"Aye, I'm counting on it. I want them to see their mother as I first beheld her. A siren calling me from across the waves. You still are, Reenie. My tempting siren."

"Oh, go on," she said with a wave of her hand.

Julien's eyes lit with a passion that left her knees weak. "I will," he vowed.

And with that, he swept his wife into his arms and showed her just how tempting she still was.

 

 

Published by Dell Publishing
a division of Random House, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

Copyright © 1999 by Elizabeth Boyle

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.

The trademark Dell is registered in the U.S. Patent
and Trademark Office.

ISBN: 0-440-22639-2

Printed in the United States of America

Published simultaneously in Canada

June 1999

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

OPM

Other books

Like Jake and Me by Mavis Jukes
Wildflower Girl by Marita Conlon-Mckenna
Poisoned Pins by Joan Hess
The Participants by Brian Blose
The Unearthing by Karmazenuk, Steve, Williston, Christine