The sound of waves crashing against wood was what woke Jim. He became aware of a sweet scent under his nose, the feel of his own hand nestled around a warm belly and his eyes snapped open as he moved his hand away from Melinda in a daze, grazing the underside of her breasts in the process. His manhood twitched unintentionally by her thighs, making him edge away even more as if not to wake her or cause her any discomfort.
The efforts were in vain and he froze as his wife's eyes fluttered open slightly. She slowly turned her body towards him and reached out to hold his torso, resting her head on his shoulder. Jim relaxed against her, but he could feel the heat rushing to his face. He didn't know if she was fully awake or not, but he contented himself with gently threading his fingers through her hair.
Her eyes were closed again, but she smiled against his skin. His insides felt warm and he allowed himself a moment to savor the feel of her against him and the warmth in her touch. He had not felt so blissful since he was a child. The idea chilled him, and the warmth in his chest was joined by guilt.
He breathed in the scent in her hair before willing himself to budge. "Melinda," he began, his tone too formal. "Lass… are ye awake?"
He felt her tense under him and he edged aside slightly as to allow her to sit up. Instead, she only raised her eyes to meet his gaze. His heart quickened as Melinda sat up, the blanket slipping from her shoulders. He felt his face grow hot, but his eyes didn't leave hers. She leaned forward and kissed him gently, her soft fingers sliding into his hair. Relieved, he kissed her back, placing his hands on her hips.
Their lips parted, but they kept their foreheads pressed together. He could feel her breath on his skin and knew her heart was beating as fast as his. "How do ye feel? Did ye sleep well?" Jim asked her and it felt like such a loaded question.
Physically or emotionally? What kind of answer did he want for her? "I'm fine," she responded blandly, which he doesn't appear to like.
He caught her face in his hands, blue eyes searching her own. "Please, tell me the truth. I want there to be no secrets between us, Melinda. How are ye?" His words were gentle, but she knew not to refuse.
Jim didn't seem like the kind of man who would hurt those that he loved, and she highly doubted he would ever raise a hand to her after the kindness he'd shown her last night, but there's something about him which made her shudder.
"I'm feeling a little overwhelmed… being in a new place and all with no one I know," she said softly. "But I am grateful, Jim. I am grateful you are my husband." She didn't fear him as he'd never given her any reason to. It's only ever excitement that she felt, which was baffling as it was intoxicating.
He nodded. "For yer own safety, I ask that ye not go wandering 'bout the deck at night or alone. Always have ye're lady's maid with ye. It's likely no man working on this ship is very noble or to care that ye are my wife."
"Are you worried that someone might… try something?" she asked suddenly.
His hand stilled on top of her own and he frowned deeply, his body had grown tense beside her. He muttered something under his breath which she can't quite make out and then rose from the bed. He doesn't say anything to her, and she felt a flicker of anger inside. Whose keeping secrets now?
"Well?" Her tone was more abrupt than she anticipated. "Are you?"
"Most men who live on the sea are beasts, sweetheart." He was angered at her questioning him, she could hear it in his voice.
Yet at the same time, Melinda had a feeling it's not directed at her, but his mood had shifted so quickly. Before she could question how he knew, there was a polite knock at the door. In walked Andrea, a fine gown slung over her arm, and an apologetic expression worn on her face.
Jim took it as his cue to leave and pressed a delicate kiss to the top of her head. Melinda was reminded at that moment that despite her husband's tenderness and want for her, they were still strangers to one another. She barely knew anything about him, other than rumors and small tales she had been told.
"Something on your mind, milady?" Andrea prodded as she moved about the chambers. Melinda glanced at the small dish on her bedside, where her pale blue sapphire wedding ring sat, sparkling in the rays of sunlight which beam through the windows.
"No, Andrea. Please draw me a bath," she said softly, moving to sit up in bed.
Melinda was glad that Jim was letting her visit Katherine so soon so that she can have the comfort of a familiar face. As the lady of the house when they travel to Scotland at the end of the honeymoon, Melinda knew that she must walk around in such a way that will inspire respect from all those who serve the estate and live there. Jim was her family now, although she still struggled to settle that within her mind. She was still a Gordon, even if her name has changed.
The Lady of Avalon, that was her official title. She outranked her parents, sister and any of her friends. She didn't feel any different though. When she used to imagine married life, Melinda always thought that she would feel something else, more settled perhaps? But she had woken up feeling just as she did before, the only difference was that she'd experienced something new.
The great mystery about what happened in the marital bedroom had been broken, yet not completely, and she can't help but wonder why everyone was so secretive in the first place. Sure, she had writhed in the sheets in an ungodly manner, clinging to Jim as though he were the source of her life, but he had not made her feel shameful about it. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy making her whimper and wine beneath him without any pleasure in return.
Melinda felt her body flush, as she moved to stand in front of the mirror, as naked as her birth. There are marks on her porcelain flesh, reminders of her husband's greedy hands and mouth. She wondered if he will let her cherish him in the same way he had to her tonight. While Jim was good at physically showing her who he was, yet she needed more words from him. Who was the man that she has married? She was desperate to find out.
It was some time before she left her bedroom dressed in a gown of pale grey, after taking her breakfast in the cabin, a courtesy permitted to highborn ladies and men. She made the journey from below to above deck in seconds, since she'd been on a boat multiple times during her childhood.
The cabin had been stifling her all morning, making her feel constricted. She was dying for the sea air, to breathe, and despite Jim's warning, she was going outside alone. Her world immediately calmed when she emerged onto the deck, and hurried over to the rail, clutching it with both hands and tossing her head back to get the full brunt of the sun and sea.
Freedom. This was freedom.
She wondered where they would dock first, eyes floating across the vast open water as she watched waves crash against the side as the helm sliced through. The boat rocked, and Melinda closed her eyes, listening to the slap of the waves. She heard the shouts of the crew below and tried hard to ignore them, but soon it was a closer voice that startled her.
"We hardly had a chance to speak last night or this morning, my lady," Andrea said as she approached her slowly. Despite only being her lady's maid, she had grown close to the woman after all these years. "I remember from my sister's wedding day that it can be a tiring event." Her friend drew herself closer to her. "Was James kind to you? I don't know of him that well, but he seems to be more gracious and kind than any other man I've had the chance of meeting."
She understood the double meaning of what Andrea was asking. Prior to the wedding, her friend had tried to assure her of the rumors of Lord Clancy's devotion to duty and kind nature in a friendly and necessary attempt to calm her frazzled nerves before the wedding.
"He was most agreeable. Our night together was lovely," she responded politely, finding the conversation to be borderline uncomfortable. "I look forward to many happy years with him."
She didn't know how much she wanted to let her friend know about her wedding night. She had grown up in a household that remained tight-lipped about what happened in a marriage, and her parent's union was every bit the contract that it had designed to be, even after nearly ten years together.
Melinda never wanted that for herself, but she had long accepted that marriage and love were not always one. But Jim made her blood heat and her cheeks flush, and she cannot imagine ever being indifferent towards his devotion.
When she thought about being his wife, it doesn't feel like a shackle has been placed around her wrist, for he was just as equally hers. "I enjoy his company, even if we only met yesterday," she whispered, her feelings gnawing at her. "I am grateful for the man he is."
Melinda looked away from Andrea and far off into the distance where she could almost see the beginning of the shape of something. She wondered what as she looked over the clear blue ocean and felt a strange sense of curiosity looking at what could lay across it.
"Are you okay? You've gone very quiet, my lady." Andrea asked.
Melinda pressed a fake smile to her lips, and nodded her head earnestly, "Just in my own thoughts, it happens quite a lot." She replied. "I have a lot on my mind."
"I suppose you do," Andrea said. "I am going to ready your lunch for you. Are you alright to stay out here alone?"
"Yes. You need not worry about my safety, dear friend. I will see you again soon," she said, smiling at her friend.
It was sometime later when Jim walked outside, soft curling tendrils come loose from the knot at the back of his head, and she could see that he'd tugged at his necktie. He must be stressed, for he doesn't smile at her as he walked over, but he does gently rest his head against her own for a moment- for such a simple action, it's strangely intimate.
"I thought I warned ye to stay clear of being alone on deck, my love." She could feel the way his fingers slide over her wedding ring before holding onto her hand on the railing of the ship.
"Andrea only just went below deck," she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Aye, I saw her." He replied gruffly, and she wondered if he was displeased by her lack of commitment to her promise. "Don't fret, my wife, ye are not on trial. I understand that yer father may have demanded things from yer mother and punished her when she didn't listen, but I have no desire to do such a thing to ye, Melinda."
She looked at him and frowned, "You're not like most men, Jim Clancy."
He put his hands on either side of her hips and pulled her closer, which made her gasp, "Jim!" Melinda looked around for anyone in the vicinity, but any crew member she did see paid them no attention. "Anyone could see us out here like this," she whispered, even if she felt herself drawing closer. "It's not… proper."
"What does it matter? I am yers and ye are my wife...let them look," he whispered in her ear.
It took little persuasion for her to lean forward, to kiss his wanting lips tenderly. Melinda wanted to know every inch of her husband, inside and out. If she could steal him away to only be in her keeping while she dissects his mind and discovers everything about him, she would.
Ever since she heard about him, she'd been falling, and now she wanted to know all of his secrets. Being in his company, feeling the way he cherished her, Melinda knew that there was nothing more important than them - something worth waiting for, but how was the biggest secret. She hoped that he would share something more meaningful about himself soon, but does not dwell on it as their lips are pressed together.
The skies darken with the threat of rain before the evening arrived, which made getting to know each other better. After sharing lunch and playing games of chess, there were some mysteries revealed to her about her husband.
He told her of his galant hunting stories with his brothers and the battles he fought. She told him more of her sister and her childhood along with her love for books, which he responded by telling her he owned the largest library in his region and that impressed her.
Just before they were to go to the mess hall below deck for dinner, Jim pulled her close and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as he clasped a matching necklace around it.
"Are you certain that you're not trying to buy my affection?" she teased, looking at her appearance through the mirror.
He smiled at her, but there's a sadness in his eyes. "I think ye w' like me well enough for now without me needin' to buy ye presents, Melinda." He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind.
As she watched them standing in the mirror, it occurred to her how well matched they looked. She always looked at handsome couples in her girlhood and wondered if she would look that good with her own husband. Those were the days when she had her crush on Kevin, who looked at her as nothing more than a pretty noble lady. Melinda chuckled to herself at how naive her crush on him had been. Now when she looks at Jim, she couldn't remember what it was about that stableboy which made him so charming to her.
"This necklace belonged to my mother, as did the ring I gave ye on our wedding day. When the end was near, she told me that the jewels were no longer hers and that I was to give them to the girl I would one day marry." Jim smiled then, as though he's recalling a fond memory. He held her closer still, with arms snaked around her waist. "A girl that I would swear to protect and cherish, until my dyin' breath."
She turned in his grasp slowly, her arms reaching up to loop around his neck. "Did I marry a bleeding poet?" she murmured, searching his face. "You say strange things. You speak as though we have always been fated, that you knew that the moment I saw your face, I would recognize another part of myself. These are the words of tales, not real life." She pressed a kiss to his lips softly, her fingers caressing the back of his neck and tied back curls.
"I dreamed of ye, Melinda, and I think ye dreamed of me too." He pulled away from her and instead offered his arm. "I promise that I shall tell ye more about myself as the days pass between us. One day there will be nothing ye won't know."
She mulled over his words, wanting to believe with every fiber of her being that he will unveil his own mystery to her. "Very well. You are lucky that I am a patient woman." She took his offered arm, allowing her fingers to brush against his dinner jacket.
She was curious about the crew, and why her husband seemed so irritated by their presence around her. She knew better than to trust them, but she didn't think they were outwardly bad men, were they? Her father had been seen as a good one, but only ever presented her mother with happiness when she gave him a child, and scorned when they had both been girls and came too early.
Despite being married for only a day, Melinda could already feel the pressure and expectation of having children. Before too long, Jim would surely come to expect her to bear him a son or two. She knew that a man had little patience in that regard, but maybe he will prove himself to once again be different from his peers. Apart from any man she'd ever known, Jim was entirely different. She knew that well enough already.
"Ye are doing it again, Mel," he hummed against her ear.
Melinda became aware of her surroundings and realized that they've traveled along the corridor and to the mess hall, and she recalled doing none of it. Some women have been accused of female hysteria for much less and sent to live in an asylum. Not that any of them actually had any madness of the mind, but it was an easy way for a man to be rid of his wife.
"Sometimes my thoughts are all too consuming," she responded bashfully and caressed his cheek with her hand.
"Ye can always tell me your troubles, Melinda. I want ye to be happy," he said.
It was easy to believe that he would not judge her, despite the weak impression that she had got of marriage growing up. "Later," she whispered softly and squeezed his arm.
Her husband nodded his head in agreement, then once again offered his arm to her as they walked into the loud room that held benches for all the crew and passengers to eat at. Unfamiliar voices filled her ears, swirling in her mind as she tries to place them. It did not take Melinda long for her to realize that she had never seen or heard of these people before - they must undoubtedly be from Scotland and was why Jim knew more of them than she did.
Beneath the light of dozens of candlelight, a girl with pale features and dark raven hair stepped forward, her cheeks flushed with a hint of pink. She was very beautiful, she observed, as the girl walked forward with a polite smile. Her mother had taught her how to be a Lady of the house some, and that was exactly what she was going to be.
"Jim, it's good to see you." the girl spoke brightly, her arms folded around her husband in a familiar greeting. They must be related or else she would surely have made it to the wedding. "My father told me you were to be married before you returned… but I didn't believe him! You were always so headstrong about never marrying when we were little."
Melinda realized that while Jim seemed glad to see the girl, he did not greet her father with the same courtesy. "Uncle Howard," he greeted tensely, holding out his hand tensely towards the man. The fierceness of her husband's expression felt as he looked at her, and motioned towards her. "May I introduce the Duchess of Avalon and my wife, Melinda."
Jim's uncle stepped closer to her, allowing her to fully access his appearance. Unlike the girl, he was aged and sprinkled with grey hair, his belly was rounded and eyes lined and sunken from time. "A pleasure to meet you," she smiled politely, tucking a grimace beneath her lips as he pressed an unnecessarily wet kiss to the back of her hand.
"Yer wife may be English, but she sure is bony!" Howard declared.
They were soon seated and eating the food that was served to them. Another of Jim's cousins took a seat beside her, and she was reminded of her batard brother Gabriel, the ale on his tongue smelled the same. She learned Jim's male cousin was called Willie, (short for William), and he had a slicked-back appearance that doesn't match the common twang of his voice.
He wore a jewel-encrusted sun on his lapel, which seemed far too grand of a trinket for an obvious middle-class family. She wondered if the man has a talent for gambling, or something far more sinister.
She doubted it as Willie spoke tirelessly of himself and of his many pursuits. She feigned interest while dipping her spoon into her soup, casting a glance over at Jim who was sat opposite her. He's flanked by his uncle and Alice, the pretty raven-haired girl. Melinda clenched the silverware slightly, although she blamed her tense mood on her poor company.
"Did you hear me, my lady?" The voice was closer to her ear than expected, and she whipped her head around out of surprise.
"Sorry, my lord. Come again?" She excused herself and tried to lean away from him. Melinda does not need to look at her husband, to know he's furious with the proximity.
"I said, has little James played with you like a woman yet?" There was a darkness to the words which makes her shiver. "Pretty English girls like yerself tend to be scared of a monster when they meet us Scots… especially if they marry us." Her heart pounded in her chest and she clenched the spoon in her hand even tighter until her knuckles turned white and her fingers burned around the utensil. "...but they soon realize that the monster is already in their bed." Willie reached to touch her hand, but she heard the sound of a fist being slammed down on the table, which made her jump in her skin.
Her eyes lift to reach Jim's own pools of fury. He was stood hunching over the table with his hands balled into fists. "That's enough of yer damn games, William. Keep your vile words to yerself and leave my wife out of it."
Willie barked out a laugh and clapped his hands together greedily. "There he is! Come on, cousin, show your wife the real you, and the beast which you're concealing from her. I heard whispers of clean sheets and no bedding… is that true?"
"Do you truly believe servants' gossip?" He yelled, despite them both knowing the truth and that they hadn't laid together as man and wife yet. Not fully. "Do you?"
"On yer reaction, cousin. Yes, I do." Willie said, stone-faced.
"It's merely gossip," he said, coming across the table to yank his cousin from his seat. "You should know better, cousin. Apologize now or I will rip your tongue out."
"I'd like to see you try," Willie laughed and shrugged Jim's grip off his shoulder, grabbing his goblet and walking across the room to fill his cup with ale. He seemed no more interested in apologizing than her husband did at backing down.
Melinda tried not to flinch from the implication of Jim's words. Alice's expression was regretful, while Howard's was full of feigned annoyance, and dare she believe it, amusement. "Son, apologize at once. You were out of line." The older man's chastisement does not seem genuine, and Melinda almost believed that they were trying to purposefully rile Jim up — although she can't seem to understand why, unless they find it all to be terribly clever.
She was grateful for Alice's interruption, as her voice sliced through the tension as she began to discuss a new French fashion. The girl was seated at the opposite end of the table but made herself heard to calm down the room. The next course passed without incident. William mumbled an apology and left the mess hall, and Jim's brother Daniel moved to sit beside her, providing her with a far more tolerable conversation.
It was a few hours later when she excused herself for bed and Jim promised to follow soon, once he's had a drink and a cigar with the other gentleman. She wasn't even sure he enjoyed it all that much, but the men would accuse him of being impolite for not partaking in the manly ritual.
Melinda climbed the stairs with slow movements, stifling a yawn as she did. The day had been surprisingly long and rather eventful. Gerald Clancy's taunts remain present in her mind, as considered the hidden meaning behind the dark works. It's possible that they were spoken falsely, but she knew that the intention had been to rile Jim up. But why?
She crossed the hallway and was soon back in her and Jim's cabin. Andrea had accompanied her from the hall rather quietly and when they were in the room alone, the lady's maid meticulously combed out her hair and dressed her in a thin, lace-trimmed nightgown. There was nothing plain about Melinda's choice of wardrobe, especially now that she was married.
"You may take your leave, Andrea. Thank you," she said as she sat on the top of the bed, smiling as her lady curtsied and took her leave. Grateful for the moment when she could finally climb into bed, Melinda fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Melinda woke up feeling breathless, writhing in soft sheets and arching from the bed lustfully. Her hands stroke over a mop of dark curls, which bob between her legs as her husband flicked his eager tongue over her sex. By the sound of faint movement in the corridors outside her bedroom and the strand of light from beneath the curtains over the porthole, she could tell that it was once again the morning. Her toes curled from the sensations and she let out a gasp.
Jim paused his ministrations and looked at her with a devilish glint in his eyes. "Good morning," he murmured against her mound of flesh, which sent sparks down her spine. "Ye are finally awake."
Strong hands gripped her thighs to hold her in place as she let out short, breathless moans. She couldn't escape the growing pleasure which prickled across her skin, her nipples hardening and her cheeks flushing. She chanted his name as she peaked, shuddering as she came down from the euphoric high. Her body rocked against his hot mouth, eyes watering from the sexual relief as her husband slowly laid beside her with a smug grin.
"I enjoy seeing ye unravel for me like that," he chuckled, licking his lips.
She looked up at him through hazy eyes and moved toward him, seeking his lips in a kiss. "Come here..." She was met eagerly and held him close, feeling him rock his hips against her. "I want you," she whispered as their lips parted.
"Is this because of last night? Because if ye are worried… there is nothing to worry about," he explained softly, tracing his fingers over the curve of her jaw.
"No," she shook her head. "I want to be with you… completely. I trust you."
"Ye trust me," he repeated her with a smile on his face and then he lunged forward, sealing their lips together again.
She saw the barest glimpse of his cock between his legs as he rid of his breeches and she felt no fear, despite its size. She reached for his bicep and squeezed, feeling his taut muscles underneath. He kissed her hand - the way he would if he was asking her to dance, she thought absently - and then she felt him.
She gasped, her eyes fluttering open and meeting his gaze. "I don't know what to do," she said, her breath catching in her throat.
He nodded but had already known that. "We don't have to do this," he said reassuringly to her, feeling another sharp intake of breath. "Ye can always change yer mind. I will never force ye to do anything ye do not wish to do, Melinda."
She smiled, shaking her head. "I know. Will it hurt much?" She whispered.
"I think not if I take my time…" He reassured her and their lips met again, more eagerly this time as they fell into a rhythm together.
"May I touch you first..." She whispered and broke their kiss. "Down there?"
He nodded wordlessly and his eyes fell to where her hand slid down his chest and over his abdomen. Her fingers were unsure as she swept them over him and he gasped, his mouth falling open and his eyes closed. He stopped her before long, his eyes pleading and breathing heavily as he then gently pushed into her. There was some initial resistance, and he was tempted to pull back when she made a high noise of discomfort. But then a soft moan and a sudden heat made him change his mind.
"Now move with me," he whispered against her lips as he gradually settled over her, looking upon her face— her flushed neck, her teeth on her lower lip, the blush in her cheeks, the mess of her hair around her—and when he was fully seated, he buried his head in her neck and groaned, low in his throat.
Her hands wandered absently over his back, sending pleasure up and down his spine that made him twitch inside her. Her head rolled to the side and she kissed him on his cheek as she began to shift her hips against him, experimentally like he had told her to.
Her breath was heavy in his ear with want as he began to move against her, and all Jim could think of was that old song. He never wanted to leave this space between her thighs. She was caged in by his own body, which consumed every part of her. His breath was hot as he laid kisses to her neck, grunting as he moved inside of her, the lewd sounds of their lovemaking filling the room, as his flesh slapped against her own.
The bed groaned beneath them, but she cannot bring herself to care if anyone can hear them. She could tell that he was close, and she was right there with him. He was whispering her name as his fingers bite into her thighs and she clung to him for dear life. It's maddening and the most exhilarating feeling. He spilled inside her with something between a shout and a bark rising from his throat.
He trembled in her arms and she wrapped her long, creamy legs around him. They were still wrapped together when he looked up into her face and brought his lips softly to hers before smoothing her hair out of her face. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," she said, quietly. "I liked it. I love you, Jim." The steady beat of his heart hummed beneath her ear as she kept her head cushioned against his chest.
"I love ye as well, Melinda," he said. "In more ways than one."
The events of the night before plagued her, and she cannot stop thinking about Gerald. It had been as though the entire purpose of his visit had been to antagonize his host.
"I do not understand what happened last night with William… why did he have to act like a fool?" She cut through the silence between them. "Why he trying to aggravate you?"
Jim frowned at her but combed his hand through her tangled strands. "My cousin always defies comprehension. That's why I warned ye to be careful. No one on this boat can be trusted if ye don't know them, Melinda."
It's not the answer she was looking for, in fact, she was more than disappointed with his response. "Jim, I—"
"Don't sulk, my love." He said and interrupted her. "I told ye, I intend to share all of my secrets in the future. It may take some time."