Captive Heart (35 page)

After a long nap, Celiese had spent the afternoon standing at the rail, watching the coast of Denmark pass by. The country was a remarkably flat one, with only a few rolling hills, rather than the beautiful countryside backed by mountains shrouded by a lavender haze she had known at home. She watched Mylan as he spoke with his crew. He worked them all hard, but spent long hours himself at the tiller, which she knew had to be the most strenuous job, and she was tempted to go up to him and ask if he was not being foolish to waste what strength he had when the other men could have helped him keep the ship upon a true course. Since he had taunted her about giving him advice she kept still, but continued to worry about him all the same. They kept sailing long past the time she’d expected him to put in to shore for the night, and she was yawning sleepily by the time he did look for shelter.

Mylan was tired and dirty, and the last thing he wanted was Celiese’s company, but he dared not assign one of the young men of his crew the duty of seeing to her needs. He’d noticed that the men’s curious stares had constantly drifted in her direction, and he had no intention of allowing any of them to befriend her, or worse. That would be all he’d need, he thought bitterly, to have the members of his crew falling all over themselves to impress her! To make her situation clear, he would gather the men together after dinner and explain she was not on board to provide an amusement. She was a passenger and no more; that she was so pretty to look at was a distracting nuisance they’d just have to ignore. He would be blunt with them. If they could not stop regarding her as the lovely female creature she was, then he would simply have to make the fact she was his woman abundantly clear. He laughed to himself as he realized how simple a fact that would be to prove.

Hagen had given him charts as well as verbal directions and, while he didn’t know how reliable those drawings would prove to be, he hoped the harbors listed as safe would still be tranquil. Often what one man discovered on a voyage did not hold true for the next to follow the same route. The land did not change, but the mood of the inhabitants frequently did, and he hoped to find deserted inlets in which to sleep each night and fresh water to replenish their supply. That the weather was fair was a good omen, for that made navigation a simple matter, but if the temperatures turned cool, or if there was a fog that made the sky and sea one immense gray sphere, their progress would be slow, and the Torgvalds’ chances of overtaking them all the better.

Celiese sat on the edge of the circle of men gathered around the fire. They had eaten well and enjoyed the ale Mylan had provided in generous amounts, but she could tell from their frequent glances that her presence among them was causing undue stress. She had expected Mylan to speak with her at least, if not to spend all his time with her that evening, but he had taken a place on the far side of the circle and had not looked in her direction once. The men all had bags made of hides as he did, which they used to store their clothing in and to sleep upon at night,, but while they appeared to be getting more comfortable as they lounged around the fire she felt increasingly out of place and wished there were some discreet way for her to ask Mylan where she was supposed to sleep. Finally, too tired to care about risking his disapproval, she rose to her feet, and carrying the blanket she’d found aboard the Surf Falcon went to look for a secluded spot to rest.

As soon as Mylan saw Celiese disappear into the shadows, he cleared his throat and spoke convincingly. “Our passenger is always to be treated with the same respect you have shown her today. You may answer her questions should she approach you directly, and being the inquisitive sort, she just may, but do not take it upon yourselves to keep her entertained. I will take care of that responsibility myself.” With a sly grin he knew they would readily understand, he followed Celiese into the darkness, wondering why it had taken her so very long to seek some privacy in which to sleep when he could not have kept his eyes open much longer.

“Celiese?” He called to her softly, not wanting to frighten her unnecessarily.

Celiese turned quickly, afraid she had offended Mylan by leaving those at the fire. “I do not belong with your men, Mylan, they seem uncomfortable with me nearby. I hope you will not object to my sleeping here by myself.”

“Oh, but I most definitely do.” When he saw she did not understand he reached out to encircle her narrow waist and drew her into his arms. “I have no intention of allowing you to sleep alone, Celiese. I am positive I told you once you’d not escape me any time I wanted you. I probably said that more than once, didn’t I?”

Surprised by his sudden interest after he’d ignored her all day, Celiese was quick to disagree. “I will never forget the beauty of last night, Mylan, but please, let us end what was between us, for to continue it will only make our inevitable parting that much more painful.”

Mylan stood silent for a long moment, confused by her request when her nearness overwhelmed him as always with an unquenchable desire. Filled with that intoxicating warmth, he lowered his mouth to hers, softly ending any hope she might have had of eluding him. She had always responded to tenderness, to a sweet caress or a gentle kiss, and he was pleased when she let the blanket slip from her fingers so she might wrap her arms around his neck. He deepened his kiss then, savoring the luscious curves of her body with no more than the slightest pressure from his fingertips, until he felt the need he’d created shudder through her slender body with a wave of cresting passion. He tried to undress her swiftly, but was so clumsy in the darkness that she pushed his hands away and slipped her gown off over her head without bothering to unfasten the brooches at her shoulders that had caused his predicament. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight with an iridescent sheen, and he sank to his knees, covering the soft curve of her stomach with light kisses that made her giggle so she begged him to stop. When he would not, she sank down upon the blanket beside him, as lost as he was in the delicious enjoyment they always shared.

Her touch was far more demanding than his as she helped him out of his clothing. He had bathed and put on a fresh tunic but he now tossed it into the bushes with little regard for the garment when he had such a delightful purpose in mind. He wanted Celiese too desperately to play with her emotions now, and he gathered her into a confining embrace, pinning her body beneath his own as her passionate kiss demanded all he could give, her invitation irresistible, and not in the least bit subtle. It was then he paused, his voice hoarse even in his own ears, as he asked the question he’d not dared to ask the previous night. “When you want me as badly as I want you, why did you refuse to be my wife?”

Celiese could barely hear his question, let alone make a coherent response. The sounds of the night surrounded them with a rhythmic purr as steady as that of a complacent cat. She wanted the splendor of her loving to make such a ridiculous question unnecessary, and she wound her fingers in his curls, pulling his mouth down to hers so he could not speak in any language save that of love.

With a low moan of surrender, Mylan gave up all pretense of caring what Celiese’s answer might be. He knew only that no matter what she thought, she was the only wife he would ever want or have. His mind was filled with her smiling image, her grace as she’d moved through the forest at his side, the sparkling light of the sun reflected upon her gently flowing silver hair. No adventure he’d ever had compared with the excitement she’d brought to his life, and he vowed to himself he would do all in his power to recapture the love she had once felt for him and he had so foolishly thrown away.

Exhausted by pleasure, Celiese lay dreaming in Mylan’s arms, a blissful smile lighting her pretty features even in the darkness. The only true peace she had ever known she’d found in his embrace, and she loved him more dearly with each passing day. His intelligence and ready wit had always delighted her, but it was the beauty of his affection that captivated her anew. She knew he had asked an unanswerable question, but through the veil of her dreams she could not even recall what it had been.

At dawn Mylan dressed hastily, fearing one of his men might come looking for them, but when he walked back to the place where they’d built the fire and cooked their supper he found them all still asleep. Criticizing them sharply for such sloth, he woke them up. He then returned to the secluded spot he’d shared with Celiese and bent down to kiss her cheek sweetly. “Wake up, my pet. If the sun finds us here lazily enjoying our leisure, someone far less tolerant may discover us as well.”

Holding the blanket modestly to her breast, Celiese greeted him warmly. “It is another fine day for sailing isn’t it, Mylan? I will dress quickly so as not to delay our departure.”

“First I want an answer to that question you would not answer last night. There is no reason for this voyage to continue if you will but agree to be my wife now.”

Swallowing hard to force back the wave of dread that swept through her, Celiese shook her head. “What of Estrid, I thought perhaps you were again engaged to her? Was there time for you to tell her good-bye?”

Mylan was tempted to describe Estrid in such precise terms that Celiese would never again question his dislike for the haughty redhead. He had only used the woman as she’d used him, but he felt not the least bit of guilt now that they were even. “Estrid is not the issue here. You are. I want to hear your reasons for refusing me, if you have any.”

Celiese had never felt so uncomfortable. Mylan was demanding the truth of something she thought too obvious to bear comment. “You do not love me, Mylan. You did not want me when I was your bride, so do not tell me you want me now simply to save yourself the trouble of this voyage. I am sorry I asked you to take me home when Hagen was more than willing to do it.”

His face filling with rage, Mylan got to his feet and backed away. “We will have to continue this discussion tonight, Celiese. Dress and join us for breakfast as soon as you can.” With that terse command he was gone, disappearing from view as he made his way back to the beach, but Celiese sat staring after him, completely bewildered by his anger when she had done no more than repeat his own words to him.

As Mylan pushed the Surf Falcon to a speed his brothers would have envied, he wished the hours of the day would pass with the swiftness of the wind. Still keeping a watchful eye, he hoped the entire journey would go as well as the first day had. He had not forgotten, as he had feared he had, how to make a wooden craft follow his command, but the Falcon responded to almost as light a touch upon the tiller as his own Raven did, and he was pleased with her, after all. The sail was stretched taut, filled with wind, pushing them toward their destination, and he felt the same ageless thrill his ancestors had known when they’d first taken to the sea in search of adventure. This was an adventure, indeed, he reminded himself. Seeing Celiese again standing at the opposite rail, he wondered what could be the cause of her pensive expression. She had every reason to sing the entire way, but he could readily tell her mood did not lend itself to expression in song. More confident of his ship on this second day, Mylan called another man to take the tiller and then crossed the deck to her side. “When we are making this voyage simply to please you, why do you appear so downcast?” He shouted in order to be heard above the noise of the brisk wind.

Turning to face him, Celiese was surprised to see his left eye looked no better that day. The deep purple bruise now had a decidedly greenish cast, making it look all the more painful. “I am sorry about your eye,” she offered shyly.

“It is nothing compared to all the other bruises I have, but you did not answer my question. Do you intend to evade them all?” Mylan took hold of the rail to brace himself. Every muscle in his body was painfully protesting the long hours of strenuous labor he’d done since the voyage began. He’d not thought himself so out of condition, nor would he admit such weakness to her. His deep tan and lean build gave the appearance of strength, and he had no intention of letting either her or his crew suspect the truth. He had already begun to rotate the duty at the tiller, since the men seemed to be a capable lot, but he planned to continue to do his fair share of the work no matter how much he suffered for it. The anguish Celiese continually caused him was an entirely different, but no less painful sort, and he waited impatiently for her to respond.

“No,” Celiese admitted with a slight smile, realizing she’d given him no real reply.

Taking her hand firmly in his, Mylan led the impossibly perverse young woman back to the stern where they could sit beneath the tent and be sheltered from both the sun and wind while they talked. “It is important that I know the precise location of your home, Celiese, for I don’t want to risk your life, nor the lives of my crew by trespassing upon land belonging to others. I am a trader, but there was no time to gather goods to trade at the end of this voyage, so any of your countrymen we chance to meet will think us raiders and put up a fierce résistance even though we make no threatening advance.”

Celiese sat down beside him, understanding his concern was justified but not wanting to be the cause of it. “I told you all I know, Mylan. Our home was visible from both the sea and the river Seine. I was a child, however, not an adult skilled in drawing maps, so I can tell you no more than I have.”

“You mentioned the city of Rouen, though; was it close by?” Mylan pressed her to continue, for each piece of information she still remembered would be useful.

Celiese shook her head. “No, I went there so seldom I do not know the exact distance. It was perhaps half a day’s ride on horseback, maybe a little more.”