Page 60 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

October 6th, 1817

Thehard-as-bricktorturerackturned mattress left Stephen stiff and achy. He stretched long, not that it helped eliminate the cricks. Cradling his head, he stared at the ceiling.

A prickling sensation careened through him. Sitting up, he tilted his ear toward the door—footsteps from four individuals. He sniffed, and his heartthump, thumped. The scent of delectable exotic flowers. Madalene!

He stood and waited. Keys clanged, the door opened, and Lady Saxton peered in at him. Madalene flew past her aunt and flung herself into his arms, enveloping him in comforting perfection. He held onto her as if his life depended on it.

“Stephen.” Her breathy words caressed his cheek. “Are you well?”

“Yes.” He pulled away to study her. Dark circles rimmed her eyes. “You did not sleep.”

She raked her fingers through his hair. “Neither did you.”

“Ahem,” Lady Saxton said. “I dare say, I hate interrupting this precious moment, but we must hurry.”

“Hurry, where?” He did not need to see or hear the simpletons since their scent assaulted his nostrils. “Where are Myrle and Diggins?”

Diggins stepped into the cell first. Myrle followed. “Good eve, Captain. Miss us?” they said in unison as their palms cut across their bodies in a theatrical wave.

“We are here to,” sang Diggins.

“Save you,” Myrle chanted.

They performed a jig to synchronous clapping, followed by a foot stomp. Palms outward, they stretched their fingers wide and wiggled them. “Huzzah!”

Madalene winced. “Sorry. They were the best I could do.”

“Humph,” Diggins grumbled. “We’d appreciate some respect. We worked hard on our special greetin’.”

“We need to hurry to the stables.” Lady Saxton’s authoritative tone would strike fear in the bravest warrior. “You are headed to Hockley Castle to retrieve the book and clear your name.”

Stephen grasped Madalene’s hand, and the five of them raced up the stairwell and out of the tower.

Stephen chose a spirited black gelding named Stormy. Myrle and Diggins took so long deciding that at length, Lady Saxton intervened, assigning them each an animal. Thereupon, they pouted like spoiled children.

“I want a smaller horse.” Myrle stomped his foot.

“Your bloomin’ big arse would smush a smaller one.” Diggin’s brought his fist down hard onto his other palm. “Splat. Smashed cow patty flat.”

Lady Saxton gritted her teeth and growled at them. Heads hanging in shame, they halted their fussing and climbed aboard their mounts.

Madalene ignored the duo and smiled at Stephen. Every battle he had fought, every enemy he had conquered, every dark, depressing lost moment of the past two years, turned to sunshine and flowers.

Unfortunately, a painful ache in his heart followed. What if he was sent to prison and never saw her again? If thus, he should confess his feelings while having the chance.

Embracing her, he whispered, “Do you believe in souls destined to be together?”

Her body softened, her curves molding to his. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Did that mean she loved him? That they loved each other? Dare they discuss it in a barn in front of criminals with his freedom on the line?

Nay. He was a fool for bringing it up. So, instead, he caressed her cheek. “I will miss you.”

“Why will you miss me? I’m going with you,” she said.

As much as he craved her company, it was a terrible idea.

“’Tis too dangerous.”