Read Online A Pirate's Ransom by Gerri Brousseau - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gerri Brousseau
Ads: Link
him.
“Please say you will accept this small gift and allow me to read to you from it.”
“Thank you, Edmund. I accept this wonderful gift and would be delighted to listen to you read,” I replied, handing the book back to him.
His fingers brushed against mine, and it seemed he allowed his touch to linger there for a long moment as he took the volume from my hand. Our eyes met for the briefest of moments, and I looked away as my heart fluttered.
Opening the book, he began to read. His deep voice took on a tender tone. He spoke softly, privately, only for my ears. The words of the sonnet were those of a man speaking to his lover, and my pulse quickened. Closing my eyes, I imagined being in his arms again, the taste of his kiss fresh in my memory. We sat so close that our shoulders touched, and I did not realize I had come to rest my head upon his shoulder while I listened to the deep timber of his voice softly uttering the sweet words of love. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the nearness of him and the scent of his warm skin made me lightheaded. A feeling of total contentment took hold of me, and a deep sigh slipped from my lips.
The sound of his voice combined with that of the sea and wind lulled me into a dream like trance. I could listen to him reciting words of love for the remainder of my days, if only I dared to believe for one moment there was any meaning behind them.
The melody of his strong, deep voice was interrupted by the pulsing sound of running feet rushing toward us. I lifted my head from Edmund’s shoulder with a start.
“Captain, Captain, might I have a word?” Smith said breathlessly as he approached. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Captain, me Lady.” He paused to catch a breath. “Sorry to interrupt, but-”
“Lady Catherine, if you would kindly excuse me,” Edmund said and handed the book to me. “Perhaps we shall be able to find a moment to continue this at another time.”
He glanced at his Quartermaster and a frown furrowed his brow, but he softened when his gaze came back to me.
Taking the book from him, I said, “Yes, of course. I shall look forward to it.”
“As will I.” Turning back toward Mister Smith, he murmured, “Smith, this matter best be of grave importance.”
“Aye, Captain, it be,” the wiry man replied as the two walked away, their voices low in muffled conversation.
I held the book close to my heart. Drunk with the words of love he had read swirling in my head, I leaned back against the mast and closed my eyes.
Chapter 12
Edmund
“Mister Smith, I find we shall have to change course. We have need to make port. Cook tells me the larder is running low,” Edmund said as he stood before the great wooden wheel.
“Aye, Captain,” the wiry Quartermaster replied.
“I fear we shall be forced to dine on hard cheese and dried bread for supper tonight.”
“Nay, Sir. Cook says we be havin’ an island meal tonight.”
“An island meal?”
“Aye, Captain. The Lady Catherine be makin’ our supper. She be claimin’ to have fashioned meals o’ far less.”
“Mister Smith, do you mean to tell me the Countess is down in the galley cooking?”
“Aye.”
“Take the wheel. This is a sight I simply must see.”
“Captain, beggin’ yer pardon, Sir, but her Ladyship, she don’t be wantin’ no one to be knowin’ she ever been in dire circumstances.”
“Very well then, I shall wait and see what sumptuous feast awaits us this night.”
Lady Catherine
Cook had lent me one of his aprons, which would fit around me at least twice. I stood in the galley, cleaning and cutting up fish in preparation of our evening meal.
I hope these men like my version of Callaloo. Cooking the meal I often made for my father drew my thoughts to him. I couldn’t help but wonder how he had fared. Memories of our island home filled me with such a melancholy sadness and brought to mind songs the island children sang. I smiled as I began to hum one of them. It made the time
“Please say you will accept this small gift and allow me to read to you from it.”
“Thank you, Edmund. I accept this wonderful gift and would be delighted to listen to you read,” I replied, handing the book back to him.
His fingers brushed against mine, and it seemed he allowed his touch to linger there for a long moment as he took the volume from my hand. Our eyes met for the briefest of moments, and I looked away as my heart fluttered.
Opening the book, he began to read. His deep voice took on a tender tone. He spoke softly, privately, only for my ears. The words of the sonnet were those of a man speaking to his lover, and my pulse quickened. Closing my eyes, I imagined being in his arms again, the taste of his kiss fresh in my memory. We sat so close that our shoulders touched, and I did not realize I had come to rest my head upon his shoulder while I listened to the deep timber of his voice softly uttering the sweet words of love. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the nearness of him and the scent of his warm skin made me lightheaded. A feeling of total contentment took hold of me, and a deep sigh slipped from my lips.
The sound of his voice combined with that of the sea and wind lulled me into a dream like trance. I could listen to him reciting words of love for the remainder of my days, if only I dared to believe for one moment there was any meaning behind them.
The melody of his strong, deep voice was interrupted by the pulsing sound of running feet rushing toward us. I lifted my head from Edmund’s shoulder with a start.
“Captain, Captain, might I have a word?” Smith said breathlessly as he approached. “Beggin’ yer pardon, Captain, me Lady.” He paused to catch a breath. “Sorry to interrupt, but-”
“Lady Catherine, if you would kindly excuse me,” Edmund said and handed the book to me. “Perhaps we shall be able to find a moment to continue this at another time.”
He glanced at his Quartermaster and a frown furrowed his brow, but he softened when his gaze came back to me.
Taking the book from him, I said, “Yes, of course. I shall look forward to it.”
“As will I.” Turning back toward Mister Smith, he murmured, “Smith, this matter best be of grave importance.”
“Aye, Captain, it be,” the wiry man replied as the two walked away, their voices low in muffled conversation.
I held the book close to my heart. Drunk with the words of love he had read swirling in my head, I leaned back against the mast and closed my eyes.
Chapter 12
Edmund
“Mister Smith, I find we shall have to change course. We have need to make port. Cook tells me the larder is running low,” Edmund said as he stood before the great wooden wheel.
“Aye, Captain,” the wiry Quartermaster replied.
“I fear we shall be forced to dine on hard cheese and dried bread for supper tonight.”
“Nay, Sir. Cook says we be havin’ an island meal tonight.”
“An island meal?”
“Aye, Captain. The Lady Catherine be makin’ our supper. She be claimin’ to have fashioned meals o’ far less.”
“Mister Smith, do you mean to tell me the Countess is down in the galley cooking?”
“Aye.”
“Take the wheel. This is a sight I simply must see.”
“Captain, beggin’ yer pardon, Sir, but her Ladyship, she don’t be wantin’ no one to be knowin’ she ever been in dire circumstances.”
“Very well then, I shall wait and see what sumptuous feast awaits us this night.”
Lady Catherine
Cook had lent me one of his aprons, which would fit around me at least twice. I stood in the galley, cleaning and cutting up fish in preparation of our evening meal.
I hope these men like my version of Callaloo. Cooking the meal I often made for my father drew my thoughts to him. I couldn’t help but wonder how he had fared. Memories of our island home filled me with such a melancholy sadness and brought to mind songs the island children sang. I smiled as I began to hum one of them. It made the time
Similar Books
