Page 48 of Lady Tempts a Rogue

Le d'mhaitheas is le d'nì bhi fàs.

A thousand welcomes to ye with yer marriage.

May ye be healthy all yer days.

May ye be blessed with long life and peace,

May ye grow old with goodness, and with riches.

“Thank you, Mr. Alderton. That was lovely.” Trinity graced him with one of her breathtaking smiles, and the little man flushed red to his ears.

“Indeed,” Devin managed, only sounding half-strangled.

The blessing was the only thing even halfway romantic about the wedding. When they returned to England, if Trinity wanted to, they’d have a proper ceremony.

Wearing a surprisingly tolerant expression, Captain Breckett waited just outside the doorway.

Mashing his hat upon his head, Mr. Alderton bobbed a farewell.

Leaving the door open in their wake, he and the captain rushed down the passageway. Their haste could probably be attributed as much to the howling wind as having left Compton in charge during the ceremony.

Oh, to have been a fly on the wall when Captain Breckett explained that he was turning the bridge over to the second officer to perform Devin and Trinity’s nuptials.

“Shall we?” Devin extended his arm, and she placed her fingertips on his sleeve.

His bride had wilted considerably these past few minutes.

This storm tested even the strongest stomach.

Sliding an arm around her waist, Devin guided her from the captain’s quarters to hers.

Once inside, her cloak still on and the door ajar, she sagged onto the lower bunk, limp as wet straw, and raised soulful blue eyes to his.

Did he dare light her lamp?

A sudden lurch almost sent him headfirst into the berth.

Probably wise not to take a chance.

“Some wedding night, huh?” she muttered. “Both of us sick as dogs.”

The shadowy interior hid her delicate features, but her tone conveyed her weariness and wariness.

Bollocks.

They ought to have discussed the delicate subject before exchanging vows.

Not sure how much longer he could remain standing, Devin waved his hand toward the bunk. “May I?”

“Of course.” Nodding, the movement indistinct in the muted light, she scooted over. “If I am this miserable, I imagine you are worse.”

Devin would rather not dwell on that truth and hoped the chamber pot was within reach beneath the bunk. His desire to comfort Trinity outweighed his need to keep from humiliating himself in front of her again.

After shutting the door, he sank beside her and took her cold hand. “I think we should wait to consummate our vows.”

She made a little sound in her throat.

“Firstly, this is not the ideal setting.” He gave the bunk a sardonic glance, though she could not see it. “Secondly, because circumstances rushed our union, we should spend time getting to know each other. This trip can be our honeymoon. ’Tis a little backward, but we are both up to the challenge.”

“Yes. I think that is wise too.” Tangible relief tinged her tone.

Devin drew her into his arms as he reclined against the pillows. The bunk was not too crowded if they both lay on their sides.

Settling against him, she sighed.

“Will we laugh about this someday, Devin?”

“I honestly do not know.”

“It is the nonsensical stuff of which romance novels are made, is it not?”

Was it?

“Just rest, sweeting.” Devin closed his eyes, praying for sleep to overtake him before sickness did. Pressing his lips to her forehead, he breathed in her sweet scent. “Tomorrow, we arrive in Morocco, and our adventure as husband and wife begins.”