Page 18 of A Countess Captured for the Captain
Nox could still not believe his good fortune, first in having escaped, and second that it was Samantha who had helped him to do so.
“Why did you come back for me? Surely it has put you in terrible danger? What will your father do if he finds out?” he asked, as they hurried down a side street away from the prison, heading in the direction of the river.
“He would probably send me away to a convent or lock me up in my room until the day of my wedding. But as I have no intention of that day ever coming, it matters little,” she replied, turning to him with a mischievous smile.
She was a most remarkable woman, and Nox knew he now owed her his very life, for if it had not been for Samantha’s remarkable courage, he would have been hung from that very gibbet he had seen in the prison yard. Now, they made their way to the home of Rebecca and Nicholas Lowood, and while Nox was uncertain of what his fate would now be, he knew one thing for certain and it was that Samantha was something very special indeed.
“But why did you come for me? You could have left me there to rot,” he said, not used to such kindness and certainly not from a woman like Samantha.
She turned to look at him for a moment, a smile coming over her face, a slight blush rising in her cheeks.
“Because even a pirate deserves a second chance, Mr. Nox,” she replied, urging him to follow her to safety–
Chapter Nine
The risk of rescuing Nox had seemed of little concern given the alternative which he and Samantha faced. If Catherine had not thought to bribe the guard – an easy enough task given man’s weakness for wealth – then Nox would have hung and Samantha’s own life would have been as good as over, given her father’s determination to marry her off. That threat still hung in the air, and Samantha knew that her father still had every intention of introducing her to the mysterious gentleman suitor.
But with Nox free, a glimmer of hope remained. She could not bear to have seen him hung for her feelings for him now ran deep, not only for his bravery in bringing her home, but for everything she had experienced at his side since the opening of the crate. She had missed him terribly in the days following their separation, and come to realize that without intending to, her heart had grown ever fonder of him.
The plan to rescue him had proved simple enough, and she had procured the priest’s robes from the laundry woman who came to Hampton Manor every week. She and Catherine had practiced their act to a fine art, and it had been no difficulty to obtain entrance to the prison on compassionate grounds. They had found the guard to be entirely persuadable when money was offered, and Samantha felt ever so pleased with herself at the ease of the rescue.
“Rebecca and Nicholas have taken up residence just north of the river. They have recently had a child, and Rebecca’s sister lives with them, her name is Laura – a bright young thing. But do not worry, you will not be there long, we shall a find a way to get you back to the Caribbean,” Samantha said, leading Nox – still dressed as a priest – over Lambeth Bridge and on past Westminster Abbey.
“ButThe Rosa Mysticais gone, is she not? There is nothing left of her, or of my crew. What of Strap and the others?” Nox asked.
Samantha had given little thought to Strap and the others. Her only thought had been of Nox, and now she paused, shaking her head and sighing.
“I do not know, but perhaps there is a way. The important thing is that we have rescued you and you can escape. I only thought of you,” she said, her words trailing off.
He pulled off the priest’s cloak, tossing it to one side, and now he appeared as he had before, her heart skipping a beat, as he put his arm on her shoulder and smiled.
“And I will forever be grateful to you for that,” he said.
They had come in sight of the home of Rebecca and Nicholas now, a fine townhouse, built on its own grounds, the gates open, leading up a wide, tree-lined drive to a porticoed entrance. Nicholas had spared no expense in building a new house for his wife, and Samantha knew it would be an ideal place for Nox to hide. They slipped through the gates, pausing in the shrubbery, catching their breath, and smiling at one another.
“I think we made it. Even if the alarm is sounded now, we are far enough away for no one to suspect our trail. I think I make rather a good missionary,” she said, laughing, as he gazed down at her and smiled.
“But for what I am about to do, I would not make a good priest,” he said, and to her delight, he took her in his arms and pulled her into his embrace.
For a moment, their eyes met, and then their lips, her hands clasping at him, pulling him into a tighter embrace. It was as though each of them had pictured this moment in their minds, a dream now turned to truth. She let out a deep sigh, their lips parting, and then he kissed her again, as though he had been so starved of the touch of a woman, that he wanted to gorge himself as at a feast.
“I have not–” she began, blushing, for she had never known such passion, only the sterile touch of suitors who brought her hand to their lips or brushed her cheek upon departure from some dull interview.
But this was different, it was a kiss of passion, of longing, of desire, of everything she had dreamed of and pictured. He glanced around him, and then he kissed her again, his hand tracing a delicate line up her back, pulling her even closer toward him. A shiver ran through her, a tingling delight, so that she gasped, tensing in his arms, her entire body caught up in this act of scandal – a scandal in which she delighted.
“And I have wanted to do that since you emerged so unexpectedly from the crate,” he replied, as their lips parted.
“And I must admit that I have wanted it, too,” she replied, for her thoughts had been preoccupied by little else ever since they had parted.
She had often imagined what her first true kiss would be like. The shelves of her chambers had been filled with books in which a woman comes to know the kiss of a man, his touch, the feel of his lips against her own, the brush of his cheek. But to experience it for herself, to know the touch of Nox, his scent – musky and alluring, the strength in his arms, though gentle as he held her, to feel his desire. It had set her pulse quickening, and now she desired it once more, if only for a moment.
“Then you may take it,” he replied, and leaning up, she kissed him upon the lips, their tongues entwined, each caught up in the moment of their own desires.
“Samantha,” came a voice from the driveway.
Samantha startled, she and Nox turning to find Catherine grinning at them.
“Catherine,” Samantha gasped, as her friend shook her head.
