Whistle Down the Wind (Mystic Moon) (21 page)

The ship
rocked as if a giant hand suddenly pushed at it, and then rolled as if riding
down a powerful wave. Sheffield stumbled backwards. Catlin rose and whirled to
face him.

“Bitch of a
whore, I’ll have you now, and when I’m finished you’ll understand the power of
your master!” His face contorted as he fumbled with the laces of his breeches.

The ship
rocked again and Catlin leaned back against the edge of the bunk and braced
herself to remain upright. The motion threw the Earl of Sheffield sideways, and
he hit the wall of the cabin with a loud whack.

The flame in
the lantern fastened to the wall above him flared high before it exploded into
a thousand dripping sparks. The shower of fire plummeted upon him and ignited
the sleeve of his shirt. Sheffield howled.

It broke his
grip on her. The binding holding her hands transformed into a thick black
snake, which released the hold upon her wrists. When the snake fell to the
floor, she faced the earl, ready to do battle. Her terror had coalesced into a
thick, dark fury. Her stampeding heart slowed to a steady, constant drumbeat.
She traced a sigil in the air and drew in the power of her elemental spirits.

A wind
whipped through the cabin and the flames threatened to engulf Sheffield. He was
thrown back to land roughly against the bunk, and he screamed with pain and
frustration.

Catlin
scrambled to the door and wrenched it open.

"I
warned you--you bastard! I hope you burn like a Samhain bonfire."

She stumbled
out into the hallway scrambling to the doorway of Griffin’s cabin. She pushed
her way into his room, slammed the door behind her, and leaned back upon it,
finally releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

She fell to
her knees and struggled against the nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. As
she finally let the tears cleanse their way down her face, her disgust and
loathing for the earl’s behavior forged a hard core of fury deep within her.

She was
tempted to tell Griffin about the attack, but she knew he’d confront the Earl
of Sheffield and challenge him to a duel. That could put his life in danger.
Lord Sheffield, she felt like spitting to get rid of the foul taste of him from
her mouth, might summon magical assistance in a battle with Griffin. This was
her quest and she must face it without Griffin forfeiting his life.

Her body
shook with the residual effects of the attack. She sat on the floor and finally
succumbed to tears. Her eyes leaked and her nose grew sore from wiping it as
she let the terror that still shrouded her have free reign. Her shoulders shook
with great, wrenching sobs.

Her stomach
finally threw up the sour bile that had twisted her belly. She managed to inch
to the slop bucket and not retch on the floor.

She heard a
scuffle in the hallway outside the door, and the angry bellowing of Lord
Sheffield as he screamed for help.

She
frantically searched the room for a weapon. If he attacked her again, she'd
kill him. She grabbed Griffin's sword from the baldric hanging from a peg and
backed into the farthest corner of his bunk.

More voices
joined the melee, as someone called for a bucket of water. She hoped flames
consumed Sheffield before they could douse him. The bastard deserved to be
flung into the pits of hell!

She knew somehow
Aelwyd had sent her fire dragons to answer her call. The transformation of the
leather binding into a snake was surely a sign from the Goddess. The snake was
a symbol of her ever regenerating life force. Catlin swore an oath that she'd
never again be caught in the snare of the druid. She'd kill him the next time
he laid a hand on her.

Chapter Twenty

Griffin
slipped into his cabin and stood staring at Catlin, his eyes displaying his
shock as he gazed down at her. She knew her appearance must be alarming. Her
gown was wrinkled and although she'd tried to adjust the bodice to cover the
ripped lace edging the neckline, she was still disheveled. She couldn't stop
the trembling that made her teeth chatter.

"Catlin,
are you all right? He pointed at his sword, still clutched in one of her hands.
"What in hell happened?"

He took
several long strides toward her. His brow was twisted in confusion, but his
eyes held a warm glow of sympathy.

"It
appears Lord Sheffield experienced some sort of mishap this afternoon.” Her
voice was a harsh whisper, roughened by her crying.

“Could have
set the entire ship on fire, from what I’m told.” Griffin's voice was calm, and
he reached for the sword. She reflexively yanked it back away from him. She
wasn't ready to surrender the weapon, even to him.

“How
fortunate for everyone aboard that he failed,” she said. “I hate the man, so
’tis no matter to me if he manages to set himself ablaze. Tis only what he
deserves."

Griffin
stepped back away from her. "Did he approach you again? Try to talk to
you?"

Catlin
twisted her mouth into a cruel smile. "Yes, he spoke to me."

She watched
his face as anger contorted Griffin's features. She needed to be careful. If he
decided he needed to protect her, it could mean danger or even his death.

"He
stopped me when I came down below." She lowered the sword, took a deep
breath and turned it to hand it hilt first to Griffin.

"I
believe it's time I took action to make the man leave you alone." Griffin
took the sword, returned it to the baldric and then took it down to fasten
across his chest. "He obviously needs convincing I was serious about the
warning to stay away from you."

Catlin
jumped from the bunk and slid across the room. Her heart was beating a staccato
rhythm and her mouth was dry as the desert in a sandstorm. "You don't have
to warn him, because I already did."

His gaze
rested on her for a few heartbeats. "I don't think that will be. . .
" He blinked in confusion. “Did you have anything to do with. . . ?"

She
straightened her shoulders. She had to think quickly.

"He
tried to grab me, and I stumbled into the lantern. It fell on him, setting his
clothing on fire." She shrugged. "It was an accident, but when he was
trying to stomp out the flames scorching his cape, I warned him you would
disembowel him the next time he dared touch me."

"Bloody
right I will!" Griffin vowed. He touched one of her cheeks gently.
"I'm sorry. I know how he affects you."

Griffin’s
arms circled her waist, and he pulled her gently against his body before
lowering his head to capture her lips. His kiss was soft and tender as he
carefully brushed his lips against hers.

She needed
his touch and his kiss, to wash away the filth of being man-handled by Lord
Sheffield. Only Griffin could make her feel so warm, safe and protected. She
wanted to wipe away the horrid memory of being held captive by the disgusting
Lord Sheffield.

Griffin
finally released her and turned her gently toward the door.

"You've
had a fright today and I know any encounter with Lord Sheffield upsets
you." He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. "We'll meet
another day,
cariad
."

She didn't
want to leave the protection of Griffin's cabin, but she couldn't share an
afternoon of lovemaking with him after Lord Sheffield's violent attack.

She wished
she could submerge herself in a tub of blistering hot water to wash away the
filthy memory of Sheffield's touch. But, she'd have to settle for a tepid
sponge bath.

She
stretched out one hand to trace the faint scar edging Griffin's face. She
tendered him a soft smile.

"Thank
you for understanding."

He turned
her hand to kiss her palm before lifting his gaze to lock onto hers. "I
swear Catlin. If Sheffield ever touches you again, I'll skewer him."

She nodded.
"I'm counting on it."

“From the
look on your face, I’d hazard you're a man in love.”

Griffin
blinked his eyes, tearing his gaze from the view of Catlin and Bitsy scrubbing
clothes in a large wooden washtub. He turned to the ship’s Master.

“She’s a
beautiful woman, and I’ve been charged with protecting her. If I find I must
look upon her to discharge my duties—” Griffin shrugged his shoulders. “I shall
not complain.”

Master
Williams stared at the two women. “I admit to being jealous. She's a handsome
lady." He leaned forward to roll the ball toward the dozen wooden pins set
opposite them. “You're a lucky man, if she returns the sentiment.”

Griffin
remained silent, pretending to concentrate on his own turn at toppling the
skittles arranged across the deck. Truthfully, he didn't know her true feelings
for him. Of course she'd given herself to him, but Griffin knew there was a
difference between lust and love.

“’Tis a good
thing you kept her from Old Rowley’s eyes, for she is exactly the type of woman
he favors— voluptuous, and possessing an innocent yet sensual charm.”

Griffin
frowned at the Master. “Shall we concentrate upon the game? I'd regret having
to challenge the most interesting man on board this ship to cross swords in a
duel over a lady.”

Griffin
watched the two women hanging linen sheets upon an improvised clothes line. “I
admire her as much for her spirit and wit as for her beauty.”

“As I said—”
the Master arched a gray eyebrow in his direction and smirked. “You appear to
be a man in love.” He took another shot, knocking down several pins.

After taking
his shot, Griffin watched the women completing their domestic tasks across the
deck. He marveled at the way Catlin turned an unpleasant job into an amusing
diversion. She and Bitsy were splashing water at each other. Many of the men on
deck paused to watch the females frolicking.

He couldn’t
resist the allure of Catlin in her simple blue linsey-woolsey gown covered with
an apron. Her russet curls were touched by strands of copper as they shone in
the sunlight. They were constrained by a ribbon, yet still managed to tumble
down her back enticingly. He recalled how silky smooth her hair felt between
his fingers. Her cheeks blushed pink from the steam rising from the tub and
reminded him of the way her complexion colored in the midst of making love.

He strolled
across the deck, calling an apology over his shoulder to Master Williams. “I’d
best make sure the ladies don’t misbehave.”

Catlin had
her back to him, so she couldn’t see him approach. Bitsy was wringing out a
length of linen towel, but he put his finger to his lips to indicate his wish
for her silent compliance. Bitsy smiled back at him.

Catlin spun
quickly, put a hand in the tub, and splashed water at him. Griffin stared down
at his now soaked doublet and breeches. Catlin shot him a coquettish smile.

“Why Sir
Griffin, I didn’t know you were there.” she said, with mock innocence.

Griffin
tried to grab her, but she was too quick for him and slid to the other side of
the tub. She put her hands in the water and once again splashed him, then
laughed. “I think you are in dire need of a bath, Sir Reynolds.”

Griffin
tried to round the tub, but she glided across the deck to duck beneath a large
linen sheet. Many of the passengers and crew now watched the duel of wills
between Catlin and Griffin. They urged her to run, and several of the men made
ribald comments regarding a fitting punishment for the disrespectful wench once
Griffin captured her.

His feet
slipped in the soapy water and he slid across the deck. Griffin felt his boots
losing their grip, and he wondered if he’d be able to catch himself before he
fell overboard. He needn’t have worried.

Catlin
grabbed the edge of his doublet and yanked him back, saving him from a fall
from the ship but bringing him to a rather ungainly plop on his rear. She
quickly released him to race off again.

She flashed
a vivacious smile at him, and Griffin quickly pulled himself to his feet, once
again enjoying the chase. The prize would be well worth the effort.

Catlin
grasped one of the braces, yanking herself up a few feet off the deck. She
paused when she was out of arm’s reach and stared down at him.

“Sir
Griffin, you’ve grown a bit slow and lazy during these long days of sailing. I
think you need more exercise.”

Griffin
climbed up the rope, forcing her to move even higher. When he finally noticed
how high they’d climbed, his irritation turned to concern.

“You’ve had
a fine jest, Catlin. Now we should get down before you're injured.”

Catlin
answered him with a laugh. “Look.” She pointed off the bow of the ship.

Griffin
turned away from her to see a school of dolphins leaping from the water. For a
few moments he thought he saw small figures riding upon their backs. He
blinked. It must have been the sun shining in his eyes.

Catlin
looked down at him, her smile full of confidence. “Shall we climb to the crow’s
nest and see if we can sight land?”

Griffin’s
heart plummeted. It was close to fifty feet to the top of the main mast, a
dangerous climb even for the seasoned sailors on board ship.

“Catlin,
don’t be foolish. You’ve had your fun, now let’s get down.”

She looked
up, the desire to explore clearly warring with her good sense.

“Please,
Catlin, if something should happen and you fell, my honor would require that I
fling myself off the rigging after you.” He winked. “If you care nothing for
your own skin, then come down in an effort to save mine!”

She laughed,
but followed him down the ropes to join him on deck again a few moments later.

Griffin
captured her in his arms. “You’ve been found guilty of ambushing an officer of
his royal majesty’s cavalry. I believe you need to be punished.”

Catlin
pretended to struggle against him. “Release me you rogue, for I was only
protecting myself against an assault.” Her eyes narrowed. “One made by sneaking
up from behind me, I might add.”

“Subterfuge,”
Griffin said.

“Trickery,”
she responded.

“Give her a
smack lad,” one of the crew members said. “’Twill show her who wears the
breeches."

The women on
deck responded with a jeer.

Catlin
lifted a delicately arched eyebrow, and her lips curved into a teasing smile.
“Sounds like a severe punishment for an innocent jibe.”

“Perhaps I
can find a more just punishment for my humiliation in front of all these
people.” He pulled her closer, leaned her back over one arm, and gave her a
long, lingering kiss.

Her soft
lips opened and invited him to explore the sweet secrets of her mouth. Desire
washed over him, and he craved more of her mouth, more of her body, and all of
the wild, wanton pleasure she could give him.

When he
finally lifted his head, her eyes were ablaze with a look that sent even more
heat to Griffin’s groin. His cock stiffened.

He should
have known better than to pretend a flirtation with this woman. Her passionate
nature ignited a fire in his blood that could not be denied. He’d probably made
a spectacle of himself in front of all these people.

Catlin stood
and pushed him away from her. With both hands on her hips, she confronted him,
feigning irritation. “One kiss is surely sufficient payment for an imagined
insult, for as I said before, Sir, you are in dire need of a bath!”

She turned
on her heel and marched away from him.

Griffin
would have been stunned if she hadn’t whispered one word before walking away
that quelled his need for the moment. One perfect, lovely, enthralling word.

“Later.”

 “Your
teasing this morning was quite delightful play.” Griffin’s tongue explored the
delicate skin edging her ear and she snuggled against him. Her quick response
to his touch pleased him.

She couldn't
speak because he slowly drew his tongue over her lower lip before pushing into
her mouth. Her eager sigh told him she was enjoying the pleasure he elicited.

He plundered
the sweet treasure of her mouth, sparring with her tongue. Finally, he
reluctantly withdrew.

She shivered
as his hands leisurely unfastened the ribbons holding her bodice together,
eager to explore the soft curves of her body.

She moaned
when his hands drew the fabric away from her heated skin and he cupped her full
breasts, his fingers gently kneading the soft mounds.

Catlin
leaned back against the wall of the cabin, her eyes closed in response to his
manipulations and her breathing growing more ragged by the minute.