Page 15 of The Forbidden Love of an Officer (The Marlow Family #7)

‘Will have her own room. She will be your maid of all work, Ellen. You shall not live exactly as the wives of the soldiers live.’

She was out of her depth without servants; she longed for a woman to help her navigate her new life. She did not think herself proud but she had been sheltered. This was so different from the rooms in her father’s Palladian mansion. She would beg Paul to secure them a cabin for the longer journey.

She did not sleep, merely lay there, her thoughts absorbed by the odd rock and sway of the ship, and the sound of so many men breathing heavily in the shadow-filled space.

When she woke, Paul was rising, moving from behind her, and about them others stirred. She felt as though she had just a moment’s sleep.

‘I am sorry, you must get up,’ he said quietly as she pulled on his scarlet coat. ‘You will learn to shut your eyes and sleep no matter where you are in the end, because if you do not, you will never rest.’

Ellen nodded and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Then she stretched. He had said this life would be hard. She had not imagined it like this…

‘Go with one of the women to freshen up while we set up the benches.’ He looked away. ‘Mistress Porter, would you help my wife?’

This was all so strange.

* * *

The ship swayed constantly – it was no different than the trepidation rocking inside Ellen. She was doing her best to fit in among the women, but everything was so alien it was not easy.

Paul had spent a couple of hours with her on deck, as she stood at the rail, just watching the acres of ocean reaching to the horizon, but beyond those hours she had mostly stood alone. She had no idea what to say to the other women who worked in the galley below, repairing their men’s clothing.

When it was time to retire, she slipped beneath the blanket quickly, leaving him to undress.

When he lay with her, as last night, he wore only his underwear and a shirt.

As he lay against her back, holding her, she could feel the muscular definition of his body.

The breathing of the men about them calmed as people drifted into sleep and the movement in the room stilled as the last few lamps were extinguished.

Without the lamplight, the galley sunk into a depth of pitch-black.

She had not heard Paul’s breathing change. He was awake.

He pressed a kiss on her neck.

Her stomach turned a somersault.

His fingers that rested against her stomach gently pressed, silently urging her to move back and press tighter against his body.

The column of his arousal was solid within his underwear and it pressed against her bottom through the layers of her gown and her petticoats.

‘Lay on your back,’ he whispered into her ear, ‘and I will move on top of you.’

She did as he asked, rolling to her back, and he lay over her.

‘Here…?’ The word was spoken quietly on a shocked breath.

‘Here or never, Ellen, there will be hundreds of nights like this when the men are about us; we will be quiet, they need not know.’ His words were spoken in a very low whisper.

Ellen looked left and right, to check if anyone watched them, but it was too dark to see. No sound indicated they did.

‘Help me raise the skirt of your dress, and your petticoats.’

Her heart pounded as her hands pulled at the garments, as his did so too, working the hems up over her knees and thighs to her waist. It was so dark, she could not even see his face.

Two of his fingers slipped between her legs, stroking across her for a moment, then sliding inside her, the movement slow and gentle, drawing her thoughts away from the room and anyone but him.

Then, one hand and one side at a time, as he held his weight above her on one elbow then the other, he pushed his underwear lower.

His hand gripped her thigh, his fingertips sinking into her flesh, as he moved her leg aside.

She opened her legs, making room for him.

She bit her lip when he entered her, and she carried on biting it as he moved within her, in a slow steady motion, as her legs wrapped about his hips. Her heart thumped. It was as though the air had disappeared from the galley.

He pressed a kiss on her temple as he continued moving, as though he sensed her insecurity, but he did not speak, probably to avoid increasing the risk of waking his men.

They were covered by the blanket and it was dark, none of the men would see anything if they did watch. But they might know what was happening.

The spell he could create began to weave its charm, whispering through her blood and spinning into her limbs.

Her hands grasped his hips, her fingertips pressing into the muscle moving beneath his skin.

‘Paul…’ She could not prevent his name escaping.

‘Hush, Ellen,’ he whispered.

As he moved quicker, she closed her eyes and bit her lip again, absorbing every heavenly sensation.

Her fingers touched the dimple in his cheek. It implied he had gritted his teeth.

The sensations inside her swelled, and then there was one deep last push and his seed spilled into her. She opened her mouth, her breath releasing – while his body shuddered. Then his weight came down onto her and she held him as he lay still for a moment.

He brushed a kiss on her cheek before lifting off her and laying on his side. She did her best to right her clothes, then lay with her back to him.

‘I love you,’ he whispered into her hair.

Tears slipped from Ellen’s eyes.

‘Are you well?’ He could not have seen her tears, though perhaps he had sensed them.

‘Yes, I am well.’ She was. She was happier than she had ever been; no matter the oddness of his world she could still feel the intensity of his love for her.

‘Sleep now.’

She understood there were two sides to Paul; here he must mostly be the soldier, but even so, there would be moments when the other half of him could be expressed – the man who loved and needed her.

She fell asleep in his embrace, and she slept well.