They made love all through the night. Every lingering bad thought seem to disappear in Dorian’s arms. She thought of nothing but their time spent together and the tenderness of his lovemaking. How could she have been so blind to her heart’s desire? Her heart seemed to expand within her chest for he displayed such gentleness in these precious moments.

            She yearned for his love and the urge to declare her own. She had feared of becoming his mistress but that no longer mattered for she craved these moments where she was open to express her waking desires in his embrace.

            Yet, the fear of his rejection, of being cast aside once she proclaimed her love was a dreaded worry. She had loss many dear to her heart and somehow, losing Dorian seemed the ultimate tragedy.

            No man had ever treated her so wonderfully, so kindly despite his own demons. The only man to love her unconditionally had been her beloved father, never once did she think to look upon a man and fall hopelessly in love.

            She imagined her belly growing with his child, a child with hair as black as the night and eyes like blue ice.

            Her mouth curved into a smile at the joy of having Dorian’s children and her hand fell flat to her belly. Could she now have a babe growing within her womb?

            She turned her head on the pillow to study Dorian’s sleeping face. In slumber, his face took on a boyish expression. She reached out and gently pushed aside a tendril of black hair. His face was smooth of any lines; those distinct lines that usually furrowed his brow whenever provoked. His face was soft and irrevocably handsome and she pictured the youth he had once been and her heart ached for the pain he must have endured in those fragile years.

            He vowed to protect her and keep her safe, but what of his torment? What of the suffering from his darkened childhood and the loss of his sister? Would he let down his barriers for her?

            She struggled with tears for she couldn’t imagine the magnitude of his heartache and grief that he kept so tightly concealed.

            Dorian awoke sometime later to find his bed empty. He shifted his body until he lay facing the side where the lovely smell of lavender drifted sweetly into his senses. Immediately he ached for her nearness and wondered after her absence. He would have seemingly enjoyed waking to find her curled against him; the thought brought an immediate grin to his face for he would have liked exploring her delectable curves while she slept.

            Never had his mind or body lingered on one particular woman for such a prolonged time. He had imagined after having her that he would have been satisfied and move on, as he had done previous times afore with countless women.

            But Ginelle was different. It seemed the more he took her, the more he wanted her and the thought of life without her was entirely intolerable. He no longer wanted to dwell among the shadows, drinking away his sorrows. After Eloise had died, he feared of living a nonexistent life; he feared loving again but what is life without love?

            He knew the moment he laid eyes on Ginelle that there would be no other capable of ensnaring his heart. He wanted her at his side, as his wife, bearing his children. He vowed in that moment to make her his, forever so that no other could claim the woman of his heart.

            Suddenly he thought of the stranger that had sought Ginelle out the previous day. Who was Lord Edric? What reason did he have for wanting to speak with her? He would see to it that he discover every little detail circling this mystery.

            With that notion, he arose and quickly dressed. He left the room with the intention of finding Ginelle only to stumble into Lucile at the end of the hall.

            “It is midday and now you think to arise?” she inquired, placing her hands on her hips in that accustomed manner of scolding. “It is well past breakfast, monsieur so you will just have to make do on your own.”

            Dorian resisted a grin as he addressed his housekeeper with wry humor. “Where might I find Ginelle?”

            The older woman narrowed her acute gaze before saying, “She is in the garden.”

            He nodded his thanks.

            “Before you go-“ Lucile said, catching him half-way, he turned as she reached in her pocket and withdrew a letter. “This just arrived for you this morning.”

            Dorian accepted the letter and ripped open the seal. His eyes skimmed along the lines of ink informing him that Lieutenant Cummings had made port and had information on trade and most importantly, the Spaniard King.

            He folded the letter and nodded once more to Lucile before continuing on down the hall.

**********

            The moment Dorian spotted her, sitting along the stone bench by a bushel of roses, his heart swelled within his chest; an immediate urge to go to her and possess her lips nearly drove a moan from his tightened throat.

            Instead, he straightened and studied her from the shadows. A cooled gentle breeze, an indication that summer was nearly at an end, trickled through the garden, rustling the flowers that dangled in the midday sun. He crossed his arms against his chest and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

            Seemingly unaware of his presence and occupied by a book that rested within her lap, with her head slightly bent, she proceeded to read.

            She had donned a simple day dress that hugged her small frame and for a moment, he watched her, amazed at how little a female could make such an impact on his darkened heart.

            “You let me sleep well pass dawn.” He said, his voice stirring her aware as she lifted her head, surprised to see him.

            She smiled and it nearly inflamed him. She smiled for him alone and that pleased him greatly.

            “I did not wish to wake you.” She said gently, setting the book aside as she rose to her feet.

            Dorian grinned, “If you had awakened me at daybreak I would have likely dislodged the tongue lashing I just received from that cynical woman.”

            Ginelle laughed softly as Dorian crossed the space separating them and reached for her hands. He watched an emotion much like surprise flicker in her soft eyes as he lifted her palm and lightly pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

            “I have to go into town today and would like for you to accompany me.”

            All traces of humor fled as she stiffened, hesitating before asking, “What reason do you have to go into town?”

            “Lieutenant Cummings has made port and requested I meet him in town to speak on business.”

            Quickly she sought a reason to decline. “I would simply get in the way, Dorian.”

            He grinned as he reached up and cupped her face in his hand. “I can think of nothing more but having you at my side for the day.”

            Ginelle bit down on her lower lip, unable to resist the dark lilt of his voice. How could she refuse when she herself wanted nothing more than to spend every moment with him?

            Something about his demeanor had changed; he was gentle and humorous as if the dark shroud that seemed to hover over his disposition had all but lifted. Could she be the reason for his sudden change in manner and happiness? Was it possible that he felt strongly about her as she him? Did he love her?

            She feared going to town certain that Pierino or Lord Edric would be lurking, ready to snatch her from Dorian. Yet, with Dorian at her side, she felt certain he would protect her at all costs.

            She peered up into his handsome face, marveling at the glint of life that brightened his eyes to a clear, crystal blue. His face revealed no harsh lines of anger or coldness; in fact, she could detect nothing but softness, a gentleness that amazed her.

            If she proclaimed her love now in this moment, would he tell her that he loved her? Her heart jumped against her breast with a sudden rush of adrenaline as she opened her mouth but the words never came as a sudden anxiety warned her she was wrong.

            Instead, she gripped his hand and nodded. “Yes, I’ll go with you.” She replied with a small smile.

**********

            Dorian assisted Ginelle from the carriage and she felt her heart skip in her chest as he placed her hand in the crook of his arm. Almost instantly she felt some of her anxiety ease at the comfort of his large body standing at her side.

They had traveled to the other part of town where poverty littered the cobblestone streets. This particular part of town was overcrowded with squalid conditions. Merchants bellowed from each side of the street as carriages rolled along and children garbed in rags chased through the thickening crowd.

Ginelle leaned closer to Dorian, somewhat wary as her eyes moved over Londoners. She half expected Pierino to suddenly appear, demanding his debt to be paid. These were the exact streets she had channeled her way through as a child, picking unsuspecting pockets to make a living.

She remembered that exact day she had ran, fleeing to the safer side of London to escape Pierino. If she had not escaped when she did, she would have never met Eloise on that fateful day. She would have never known this life or the man at her side that she would grow to love.

            Her other life was now a vague memory, a memory that she wish to forget, aside from the fond remembrance of her doting father.

            Her fear eased as Dorian wrapped an arm securely around her waist, as if sensing her discomfort. He led her easily through the crowd, his mood darkening with each step as they made their way to the docks.

            Ginelle gasped when she spotted the many vessels varying in all sizes lining the docks. Large crowds gathered to unload the huge quantities of cargo, passing them along from the boats to waiting barrows. Ginelle gasped, stunned to see that some of the cargo consisted of slaves as she watched a row of men connected with chains make their way onto the dock.

            Various crews rustled about, shouting, some singing merrily as they unloaded crates along with hammering while loosened ropes were released to splash loudly in the water. Barrels were rolled along, each laden with valuable merchandise.

            When they reached the Eastern Dock, Ginelle inhaled sharply as they made their way towards a large vessel made up of several masts. She knew little to nothing about vessels or the business of trade and was quite in awe to see such a magnificent ship and suddenly intrigued to learn more.

            “That is yours?” she asked Dorian, her voice light and curious.

            Dorian nodded, “Yes, one of several.”

            “What type of ship is it?’

            “It is called a schooner, rigged with three masts. It is specifically used for trade because of its agility in speed therefore it is a favorable vessel among traders.”

            Just than they spotted Lieutenant Cummings and he waved them over. Ginelle was somewhat curious to know why Dorian had asked her to come along and even noticed that Lieutenant Cummings was a bit surprised to see her as well.

            Cummings aura usually bordered lively and humorous but today Ginelle sensed a change in his character, a severity that she had not witnessed before. “Should we speak in privacy, Captain?”

            “We can speak in the Captain’s quarters.” Dorian said as he ushered Ginelle onward towards the ship.

            Dorian took immediate notice to the crew’s sudden perk of interest as Ginelle stepped on deck. He scowled darkly and cast angry looks over the men who thought to chance a look at his woman.

            Once inside the confines of his cabin, he released Ginelle, not realizing his grip had been bruising until he noticed her fingers rubbing the skin where his hand had been moments ago, but she said nothing as she moved about the room, studying its confines.

            “What news do you have, Lieutenant?” he asked, jerking his eyes from Ginelle.

            Ginelle paused in her surveying to turn and peer at Cummings who seemed almost pallid in the dusked cabin. “The remainder of the crew is rumored to be dead.”

            Dorian stiffened and Ginelle immediately felt the fury seeping from his body. “You are certain?”

            Cummings shrugged, “It is but a rumor, the truth of it is unknown.”

            “What of the Spaniard?” Dorian asked, his voice dripping with malice.

            “There are rumors that he was spotted in the Shetland Islands.”

            Dorian arched a black brow, “Shetland Islands? It doesn’t add up, why Shetland?”

“Shetland could possibly be a nest location; mayhap in Lerwick where vessels are serviced.” Cummings suggested.

 “Last we spoke you said the bastard was seen along the coast of Portugal and than the English Channel. That is the opposite direction? How did he manage to shift his course so suddenly?”

“We believe he has a replica of the vessel he steers, one that is a diversion to keep officials off his trail.”

Dorian’s scowl deepened, “I have merely an assumption to run on but one worthy of considering. The Spaniard is clever, forming a diversion when all along he may be shacked on Shetland.” He was ready to make a move, ready to exact punishment on the blackguard that killed nearly an entire crew and stole an entire vessel of cargo costing him a pretty penny. He was not one to wallow in his loss, instead he sought retribution.

“We set sail in a few days. Have the vessel and crew prepped for departure.”

Cummings nodded. “I’ll send word when she is ready, Captain.” With that he nudged his head in agreement and proceeded out of the cabin.

Dorian turned and stiffened, suddenly aware of the intense storm brewing in the soft brown eyes glaring angrily back at him.

**********