The Buccaneer(90)
Zeena in return squeezed Catherine's hand. "Do not lose hope. Love can often work magic."
Catherine sniffed back her tears. "Magic would be the only possible ingredient powerful enough to rectify this situation."
Zeena winked. "Love is more powerful. Watch and see for yourself."
The two women hugged and Catherine took herself off to the gardens. She hadn't wanted to disagree with Zeena about love being more powerful than magic. Her love could survive the worst gale, cross a continent, travel through time, and still remain as strong as it was at this moment. Lucian's love was the one in question and obviously he did not possess as deep a love for her as she did for him.
She had been as foolish as a young schoolgirl in her first throes of puppy love. She had laid her heart bare and he had broken it. She had no one to blame but herself.
How could she have possibly thought that the infamous Captain Lucifer would love her? She was, after all, the stepdaughter of the Marquis of Devonshire, the man he had sworn revenge against.
After an hour of senseless and warring thoughts she returned to the house. Lucian was still no place to be seen. Weary and heartbroken, she climbed the stairs, having refused any supper.
She entered the bedroom she and Lucian shared. She took one glance around the familiar room, so barren now with the removal of her personal articles. She turned around, walked out, and closed the door behind her.
She found a guest bedroom down the corridor on the right. She closed the door quietly, slipped out of her dress, and climbed naked between the covers of the bed.
Peaceful sleep was what she prayed for, her thoughts having pained her far too long. She only wanted tomorrow to hurry and arrive so she could sail away, so afraid that when it was time to say good-bye to Lucian she would break down and cry and beg him to let her stay.
o0o
Lucian stood on the veranda outside his study. The late-night air had dropped the temperature to a comfortable level and the cool breeze caressed his warm skin.
He had thought of drowning his pain in liquor, but had decided against it. He wanted a clear head when he bid Catherine good-bye in the morning. He wanted to remember her face, her expression, and her words when she said her good-bye.
He had purposely avoided her all day. He hadn't wanted to hear her excuses, her defense of her father, attempting to reason with him that Abelard was a good man.
Abelard was far from good and it was time Catherine realized that people weren't always what they seemed to be, like her. She had claimed she loved him, yet she had defended her father against him when he was the one who had been wronged and hurt.
He hadn't expected to feel such a strong emotional reaction to his decisions. The idea that she would sail tomorrow and he would never see her again weighed heavily on his mind. The thought of her not sharing his bed, of swimming alone, of never hunting for shells again, of never seeing her smile, of —"
"Stop!" he cried out to the emptiness of the night. Stop tormenting yourself, he silently warned.
He ran his hand through his hair. It fell over his shoulders onto his chest. He recalled how Catherine would sometimes wrap her hand in the long strands and tug at it when they made love.
His thoughts strayed to her naked in the bed upstairs. She never wore nightclothes, simply because he had removed them every time she had climbed into bed. He enjoyed her sleeping beside him. She cuddled against him nightly, often initiating foreplay with her innocent touches and soft words.
He thought of her penchant for wrapping her leg around his and lightly rubbing herself against him. She thought nothing of it, she teased him with sexual innocence and it drove him absolutely crazy.
With a quick step back and a sudden turn he headed toward the door. He had one last night with her. One night that he had planned to spend alone, but now —
Lucian headed up the staircase, taking two steps at a time. He hurried down the hall, paused briefly; debating the wisdom of his decision, then opened the door and walked in.
The room lay bathed in heavy silence, candles flickered from the gentle breeze drifting through the window and the bed lay ready, waiting . . . and empty.
Lucian panicked at first, thinking something had happened to her. Then he realized she purposely had not come to his bed tonight. His eyes widened. His hand clamped into tight fists. His nostrils flared and he whirled around as if a mighty gale had spun him about and he left the room.
o0o
In the distance Catherine heard her name screamed, followed by several loud crashing sounds. She drifted slowly out of her heavy sleep, opening her eyes just as the door crashed against the wall and sent the room atremble.
She pulled herself up, grabbing the sheet to cover her naked breasts and he stormed over to the bed.