Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
**Disclaimer – Though inspired in part by people who exist in reality, this story is not meant to represent them in any literal way. It’s all meant in good fun.
On the rising tide Chapter 12
“Poor Bono.” Fiona was saying to Adam as he led her away from the docks, into a part of London she was sure the other sailors were not frequenting. “Where is it you’re taking me, Adam?” She asked, her focus changing from concern for her heartbroken friend to curiosity about her surroundings.
“We’re going home.” He told her, holding his head high and meeting the eyes of the people he passed despite his ragged appearance.
“Home? Your fathers home?” Fiona gasped, her bright green eyes widening in shock and he feet slowing to a stop.
“Don’t worry, they’ll be at the country manor this time of year. Preparing for Christmas and all the festivities.” He informed her, casually continuing and leaving her standing dumbly on the sidewalk. Fiona finally shook her head in disbelief and hurried to catch up to him.
“You’re mad! Not only are there people in London who threatened to kill you if ever they saw you here again, but we’re lucky the constable doesn’t come along to lock us up for being in such a neighborhood! We look like vagabonds and thieves.” She hissed, keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone passing by.
“You certainly are acting rather shady, love. All it takes to convince these wankers that you belong is for you to believe it. Look them in the eye and let them know they are no better than you.” Adam told her, nodding solemnly at a well dressed young man as he descended the stairs from his town house.
Fiona frowned and refused to acknowledge the fact that he seemed to be right about this particular subject. No one was paying them an unusual amount of attention. It occurred to her, as she grew brave enough to look up from the sidewalk and watch the places and people around them, that they must be assuming she was a servant. She scowled at the thought but decided not to comment. Adam, after all, was nothing like these people. Not inside, where it mattered.
He led her right up to the front door where he let himself in, holding the door for her to enter first.
“Pardon me, but all deliveries are to be made to the rear entrance!” A sharp voice called out as she stepped in and began brushing the snow from her shoulders.
“Indeed, but this delivery happens to be family.” Adam retorted, flashing a smug smile at the man who was scurrying toward them from the other end of the hallway.
“Lord Clayton!” The man exclaimed, his beady little eyes widening in shock. His posture changed dramatically as he realized he was no longer the person with authority in the room. Fiona had the childish urge to stick her tongue out at the man.
“We weren’t expecting you.” The man said, his tone slightly scolding. “We were just closing up the house for the season. Your family left two days ago for Northampton.”
“I suspected they would have. I had no way to send word ahead, I’m afraid. I’m glad to find you still here, John. How many of the others remain?” Adam addressed the man while helping Fiona slip out of the tattered coat she wore. He slid free of his own and handed them both to the servant as the man continued to stare at him in disbelief.
“… Mary, Thomas, and some of the seasonal staff are still about, sir. What can we do for you?” John asked, finally regaining his composure.
“Prepare my chambers and a suite for Fiona, please John. And have a bath drawn for each of us. Are there any of mothers maids around who could assist Fiona?” Adam replied, moving from the hallway into a nearby library and directly to the liquor cabinet.
“Yes m’lord, Elizabeth has not yet left, she can help. Would you like me to have your suppers prepared as well?” John asked as Adam lifted his brandy snifter to his lips. Adam sipped the amber liquid, his lips drawing back slightly as it burned it’s way down his throat.
“Yes, please, John. Don’t bother going out for supplies, we can have a cold meal if that’s all there is available.” He replied, swirling the liquor around in the glass and breathing in it’s aroma. The butler nodded in acknowledgement before slipping out of the room quietly.
“Adam, you don’t need to do all of this. Aren’t you afraid there’ll be trouble?” Fiona asked, glancing out the window to watch a fancy carriage rumble along on the street a few feet away.
“Not at all. This is my family home, after all. We won’t be here long enough for word to reach anyone who wishes to do me harm, anyway.” He assured her, taking a little bit longer drink this time. “Would you like some cognac?” he asked as he moved to pour a second helping into his snifter.
“No, thank you.” She told him, rubbing her hands up and down over her shoulders and upper arms. She shivered and fought the chattering of her teeth. Her clothes were soaked and she was chilled to the bone.
“You’re freezing!” He said, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. He poured a second glass and hurried to stand beside her. “Take it, it’ll warm you up from the inside out.” He told her, and she tentatively accepted the drink, sniffing it suspiciously. Adam chuckled at her wariness and took another drink from his own glass before setting it on a nearby table.
“All these months I’ve kept your secrets and you still don’t trust me?” He asked, stepping up behind her and rubbing his hands over her shoulders and forearms as she had been doing. His hands were massive, covering twice as much of her tiny arms as her own had. And they were warm, so warm! How did he manage that? Her hands were like ice.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” She told him softly, taking a tentative sip of the fiery liquid. She gagged and choked when it hit her throat, but she could not deny the trail of warmth it left down the length of her throat and into her belly. She quickly tried another taste, not nearly as overwhelmed at the taste of it this time.
“See?” Adam teased, squeezing her arms gently as he continued to massage them back to warmth. He stood so close behind her that her back was quickly warming as well, receiving the heat of his body hungrily. She realized, to her surprise, that she was leaning back, drawing closer to his slender but solid frame. As her body warmed, her muscles relaxed and she sighed at the feeling.
“I never thought you’d purposely cause me harm, Adam.” She informed him, letting her eyes drift shut and her head tilt back to rest against his broad chest. “Not on purpose.” She repeated, yawning as she spoke. Her words cut through Adam like a knife to his chest. She felt his muscles tense, his hands stop moving on her arms, and she knew she had said something wrong.
“Well, there it is, then.” Adam muttered, walking away and leaving her unsteady on her own two feet.
“Adam, what did I say? I didn’t mean anything…” Fiona started to ask, her heart racing in panic at his reaction.
“I never intend to do anyone harm, but I somehow always manage, don’t I?” He said with a bitter laugh and a forced smile that made his face seem cold as stone. He took a deep drink, emptying his glass and hissing slightly at the way it seared his throat and ate away at his empty stomach.
“That’s not what I meant!” Fiona objected, and Adam turned away from her to pour another drink.
“It doesn’t matter.” He told her softly.
“Adam!” Fiona said, surprised at the scolding tone of her own voice. She marched over to him and slapped a tiny hand down on his shoulder, trying to get him to turn to face her. “Damn it, I hate it when you act like this.” She told him, her Irish accent thickening with her irritation.
“You’ve done more good for me than anyone else has ever even tried to do in my entire life!” She continued, her green eyes shining in the lamplight as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I swear you’re the most sensitive man I’ve ever met!” She teased, making Adam’s mouth twist into his upside down smile.
“I take offense to that, knowing that you know Bono well.” He replied, chuckling when she laughed out loud.
*Ahem*
They turned to see John and a woman of about the same age as Fiona standing in the doorway, looking disapproving.
“Your rooms are ready and your baths have been drawn.” John announced.
“Thank you, John.” Adam replied, clearing his throat and shooting a conspiratorial glance at Fiona, as if they really had been caught doing something they were not supposed to be doing. “Elizabeth will you show Fiona the way?” Adam asked, and the girl nodded silently, turning and hurrying out into the hallway without waiting to see if Fiona was following. Fiona handed Adam her glass and trotted after her, not certain she would catch up and afraid she might get lost in the immense house.
She caught up to her on the staircase and followed her along an oppressively dark hallway. There were great portraits on the walls, though she could hardly see them in the darkness. Mostly, she just saw the whites of their eyes and felt as if she were being watched. Watched, judged, and deemed unworthy.
Fiona could hardly believe her eyes when they stepped into the beautifully decorated room. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace, thick burgundy drapes covered the windows, and the bed was nearly as big as the room she and her sisters had shared. It was of a rich, dark wood, the posts intricately carved with beautiful detail, and the tester curtains were the same heavy material as the window curtains.
The maid led her into a smaller attached room with a beautiful stone floor and no windows. There was another blazing fireplace in here, and in the center of the room a tub which had been filled more than halfway with warm water. A large pot of water was steaming over the fire, and a bath tray with soap and rose scented oil waited for her. The maid lifted the heavy pot and struggled to carry it to the tub.
“That’s too heavy for you.” Fiona scolded, moving to help her.
“Oh no, miss, I can do it.” The young woman assured her, horrified at the thought of Fiona helping her.
“Bollix! It’ll be easier if we do it together.” Fiona told her, noticing the shock on the girls face at her salty language. She fought the smile that tried to spread across her face, not wanting to make the girl even more uncomfortable. The girl yielded to Fiona’s will and allowed her to assist her with the pot, dumping the steaming water into the tub and then setting it aside. When she moved to help her out of her clothing Fiona shook her head vehemently.
“Go on, now, I can do this myself.” She told her, and again the girl hesitated. “Go on, it’s fine. You’ve been a great help but I’d rather do this part meself.” She said, shooing the girl out.
“I’ll be just outside the door, if you should need anything, miss.” She told her, and Fiona rolled her eyes. How helpless were the nobles that they had servants to take care of even the most basic of their needs? She shook the thought from her head as she shed her well-worn clothes and left them in a pile on the floor.
She slipped into the hot, soothing water with a grateful sigh and lathered the soap greedily, breathing deeply of the rose oil. She doubted she’d ever enjoyed a bath more in her life. Of course, she usually had to use the water her sisters had already bathed in, so it was never this warm or this clean by the time she washed.
She heard a knock on the door, and the subsequent sound of Elizabeth’s footsteps as she moved to answer it.
“Lord Clayton asked me to bring these down for the young woman.” She heard an older woman’s voice saying.
“Miss?” She heard Elizabeth’s voice call from the doorway.
“You can call me Fiona.” She told her, leaning back in the tub and resting her head against the side, letting her eyes drift shut.
“Uh… Fiona… I’ve some clean clothes for you. Would you like me to lay them out here or have them ready in there?” The girl asked.
“Clothes? How in the ever-lovin’ blue eyed world did you come up with clothes for me?” Fiona asked, turning to look at the doorway.
“Lord Clayton sent them to your rooms. They belong to his brother, Sebastian. Or at least, at one time they did. He’s long outgrown them now.” She explained.
“Oh.” Fiona laughed, marveling at Adam’s resourcefulness. “Out there is fine. Thank you.”
There was more movement, but the door had not yet been shut again. There were still two people in the other room, and Fiona strained her ears to hear what they were saying in hushed tones.
“I can hardly believe he could be so bold as to bring one of his - - - lower class mistresses to the family home! He’s gone to far this time.” The older woman was saying.
“I know!” The younger woman agreed whole heartedly. “It’s as if he wants his father to disavow him!”
“He’s been this way since he was a small boy. He always has to see just how far outside the boundaries he can go. His father should have reigned him in years ago, if you ask me.”
Fiona’s heart was pounding in her chest, a sour taste creeping up into her mouth from the twisting in her gut. She did not know who to be angrier with. The gossiping women who had obviously assumed she was some sort of tainted woman aspiring to the Clayton title, at Adam for whatever history had lead them to think it, or herself for having let her guard down.
Suddenly, her bath was not so enchanting anymore. She hurried to wash and climb out, wrapping a robe, that she found on a hook near the door, around herself. She was ready to get dressed and be on her way, rather than linger here a moment longer. Despite Adam’s reassurances earlier, the maids had driven home what she had always known. She did not belong here.
*********************************************************************
“Fiona, what’s wrong?” Adam asked as he stepped into the library, dressed in a fine clean suit, freshly bathed and clean shaven. Fiona’s heart felt as if it were melting in her chest at the sight of him. Why did he have to be so handsome? She wanted to be indifferent to him, but as soon as he was there with her again, he was no longer the villain the maids had convinced her he was. He was Adam. The man whom she trusted most in the world.
“I’m ready to go back to the ship.” She managed to tell him, having to turn her face away. She could not stand to look into his beautiful dark blue eyes at that moment.
“We haven’t even eaten yet!” Adam objected.
“I’ll eat what I can find in the galley.” She told him, moving to step around him.
“Why are you suddenly so anxious to be gone? Please, Fiona, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you.” He said, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.
“I’m just nervous, I suppose.” She told him weakly, allowing him to lead her to the dining room where a cold meal had been laid out for them. Apples, smoked pheasant, several types of breads and pastries waited there, along with butter and marmalade for the breads. There was tea, of course, and also a bottle of wine had been opened. Fiona swallowed a bitter comment. This was nearly better than the finest meal her family would have in a years time.
She sat and filled her belly in silence, rejecting Adam’s offer of wine and responding to his attempts at pleasant conversation with murmurs and grunts. The servants began clearing the table and Adam asked Fiona to move to the library again, for tea and to discuss this issue he had yet to broach.
“No, Adam. Really, I’ve no patience for your manners tonight.” She told him, standing and moving toward the hallway, intending to leave.
“Wait! All right, all right!” Adam objected, grabbing hold of her wrist to stop her. “Fiona, I want to talk to you about what will happen when we get back to Ireland.” He said, still holding on to her wrist, though his grip had loosened considerably.
“You can’t possibly want to live your life in hiding, and even if you did, it would mean moving frequently, from place to place. People would know you were not a young boy if after a few years who had still not grown into a man.”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” She admitted, pursing her lips, her brows drawn together in concentration as she considered this new obstacle.
“Well, I have.” He continued, his hand sliding down from her wrist, his fingers intertwining with her own. “Your father can’t sell what he doesn’t own.” He told her, and Fiona’s eyes shot quickly to meet his, flashing fiercely. “No, no! That’s’ not what I meant!” he told her, realizing she was thinking of her virginity as the subject of discussion.
“I mean you. If I were to marry you, then he would have no right over you. Nor would any man to whom he agreed to give you.” Adam informed her, smiling as he shared what he thought was a foolproof plan. His smile faded as he saw the indignation clearly etched across her face.
“Did you even consider that I might not want to marry you?” She yelled, yanking her hand away from his. “And just why would you want to marry me? What would you get out of it? I don’t want to be some new way for you to lash out at your father!” She huffed, turning on her heel and storming out into the hallway.
“Fiona, wait!” Adam called, hurrying after her so quickly that when she drew up short, he crashed into her tiny frame and they both stumbled. He reached out to steady her and she shrugged away from his grasp.
*Ahem* he heard John clear his throat, and looked up to see what had made Fiona stop in the first place. Or rather, who.
“Captain Mullen and Carra McGuinness, Lord Clayton. I was just coming to announce their arrival.” He informed him, obviously displeased with the situation in general.
“What the fuck?” He heard Larry saying, and he could not help but laugh bitterly. This had gone so completely different than he had intended it was almost amusing.
“I knew there was something going on between you two.” Carra said with a surprised laugh. “I cannot believe I didn’t see through you before. Why on earth are you living as you have been?” She asked, and Adam could see that Larry was still staring mutely at Fiona.
“I guess it doesn’t matter much anymore.” Fiona said with a heavy sigh. Larry turned to look questioningly at Adam. All he could think to say was
“You’re early.”
On the rising tide Chapter 12
“Poor Bono.” Fiona was saying to Adam as he led her away from the docks, into a part of London she was sure the other sailors were not frequenting. “Where is it you’re taking me, Adam?” She asked, her focus changing from concern for her heartbroken friend to curiosity about her surroundings.
“We’re going home.” He told her, holding his head high and meeting the eyes of the people he passed despite his ragged appearance.
“Home? Your fathers home?” Fiona gasped, her bright green eyes widening in shock and he feet slowing to a stop.
“Don’t worry, they’ll be at the country manor this time of year. Preparing for Christmas and all the festivities.” He informed her, casually continuing and leaving her standing dumbly on the sidewalk. Fiona finally shook her head in disbelief and hurried to catch up to him.
“You’re mad! Not only are there people in London who threatened to kill you if ever they saw you here again, but we’re lucky the constable doesn’t come along to lock us up for being in such a neighborhood! We look like vagabonds and thieves.” She hissed, keeping her head down and avoiding eye contact with anyone passing by.
“You certainly are acting rather shady, love. All it takes to convince these wankers that you belong is for you to believe it. Look them in the eye and let them know they are no better than you.” Adam told her, nodding solemnly at a well dressed young man as he descended the stairs from his town house.
Fiona frowned and refused to acknowledge the fact that he seemed to be right about this particular subject. No one was paying them an unusual amount of attention. It occurred to her, as she grew brave enough to look up from the sidewalk and watch the places and people around them, that they must be assuming she was a servant. She scowled at the thought but decided not to comment. Adam, after all, was nothing like these people. Not inside, where it mattered.
He led her right up to the front door where he let himself in, holding the door for her to enter first.
“Pardon me, but all deliveries are to be made to the rear entrance!” A sharp voice called out as she stepped in and began brushing the snow from her shoulders.
“Indeed, but this delivery happens to be family.” Adam retorted, flashing a smug smile at the man who was scurrying toward them from the other end of the hallway.
“Lord Clayton!” The man exclaimed, his beady little eyes widening in shock. His posture changed dramatically as he realized he was no longer the person with authority in the room. Fiona had the childish urge to stick her tongue out at the man.
“We weren’t expecting you.” The man said, his tone slightly scolding. “We were just closing up the house for the season. Your family left two days ago for Northampton.”
“I suspected they would have. I had no way to send word ahead, I’m afraid. I’m glad to find you still here, John. How many of the others remain?” Adam addressed the man while helping Fiona slip out of the tattered coat she wore. He slid free of his own and handed them both to the servant as the man continued to stare at him in disbelief.
“… Mary, Thomas, and some of the seasonal staff are still about, sir. What can we do for you?” John asked, finally regaining his composure.
“Prepare my chambers and a suite for Fiona, please John. And have a bath drawn for each of us. Are there any of mothers maids around who could assist Fiona?” Adam replied, moving from the hallway into a nearby library and directly to the liquor cabinet.
“Yes m’lord, Elizabeth has not yet left, she can help. Would you like me to have your suppers prepared as well?” John asked as Adam lifted his brandy snifter to his lips. Adam sipped the amber liquid, his lips drawing back slightly as it burned it’s way down his throat.
“Yes, please, John. Don’t bother going out for supplies, we can have a cold meal if that’s all there is available.” He replied, swirling the liquor around in the glass and breathing in it’s aroma. The butler nodded in acknowledgement before slipping out of the room quietly.
“Adam, you don’t need to do all of this. Aren’t you afraid there’ll be trouble?” Fiona asked, glancing out the window to watch a fancy carriage rumble along on the street a few feet away.
“Not at all. This is my family home, after all. We won’t be here long enough for word to reach anyone who wishes to do me harm, anyway.” He assured her, taking a little bit longer drink this time. “Would you like some cognac?” he asked as he moved to pour a second helping into his snifter.
“No, thank you.” She told him, rubbing her hands up and down over her shoulders and upper arms. She shivered and fought the chattering of her teeth. Her clothes were soaked and she was chilled to the bone.
“You’re freezing!” He said, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. He poured a second glass and hurried to stand beside her. “Take it, it’ll warm you up from the inside out.” He told her, and she tentatively accepted the drink, sniffing it suspiciously. Adam chuckled at her wariness and took another drink from his own glass before setting it on a nearby table.
“All these months I’ve kept your secrets and you still don’t trust me?” He asked, stepping up behind her and rubbing his hands over her shoulders and forearms as she had been doing. His hands were massive, covering twice as much of her tiny arms as her own had. And they were warm, so warm! How did he manage that? Her hands were like ice.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you.” She told him softly, taking a tentative sip of the fiery liquid. She gagged and choked when it hit her throat, but she could not deny the trail of warmth it left down the length of her throat and into her belly. She quickly tried another taste, not nearly as overwhelmed at the taste of it this time.
“See?” Adam teased, squeezing her arms gently as he continued to massage them back to warmth. He stood so close behind her that her back was quickly warming as well, receiving the heat of his body hungrily. She realized, to her surprise, that she was leaning back, drawing closer to his slender but solid frame. As her body warmed, her muscles relaxed and she sighed at the feeling.
“I never thought you’d purposely cause me harm, Adam.” She informed him, letting her eyes drift shut and her head tilt back to rest against his broad chest. “Not on purpose.” She repeated, yawning as she spoke. Her words cut through Adam like a knife to his chest. She felt his muscles tense, his hands stop moving on her arms, and she knew she had said something wrong.
“Well, there it is, then.” Adam muttered, walking away and leaving her unsteady on her own two feet.
“Adam, what did I say? I didn’t mean anything…” Fiona started to ask, her heart racing in panic at his reaction.
“I never intend to do anyone harm, but I somehow always manage, don’t I?” He said with a bitter laugh and a forced smile that made his face seem cold as stone. He took a deep drink, emptying his glass and hissing slightly at the way it seared his throat and ate away at his empty stomach.
“That’s not what I meant!” Fiona objected, and Adam turned away from her to pour another drink.
“It doesn’t matter.” He told her softly.
“Adam!” Fiona said, surprised at the scolding tone of her own voice. She marched over to him and slapped a tiny hand down on his shoulder, trying to get him to turn to face her. “Damn it, I hate it when you act like this.” She told him, her Irish accent thickening with her irritation.
“You’ve done more good for me than anyone else has ever even tried to do in my entire life!” She continued, her green eyes shining in the lamplight as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I swear you’re the most sensitive man I’ve ever met!” She teased, making Adam’s mouth twist into his upside down smile.
“I take offense to that, knowing that you know Bono well.” He replied, chuckling when she laughed out loud.
*Ahem*
They turned to see John and a woman of about the same age as Fiona standing in the doorway, looking disapproving.
“Your rooms are ready and your baths have been drawn.” John announced.
“Thank you, John.” Adam replied, clearing his throat and shooting a conspiratorial glance at Fiona, as if they really had been caught doing something they were not supposed to be doing. “Elizabeth will you show Fiona the way?” Adam asked, and the girl nodded silently, turning and hurrying out into the hallway without waiting to see if Fiona was following. Fiona handed Adam her glass and trotted after her, not certain she would catch up and afraid she might get lost in the immense house.
She caught up to her on the staircase and followed her along an oppressively dark hallway. There were great portraits on the walls, though she could hardly see them in the darkness. Mostly, she just saw the whites of their eyes and felt as if she were being watched. Watched, judged, and deemed unworthy.
Fiona could hardly believe her eyes when they stepped into the beautifully decorated room. There was a fire blazing in the fireplace, thick burgundy drapes covered the windows, and the bed was nearly as big as the room she and her sisters had shared. It was of a rich, dark wood, the posts intricately carved with beautiful detail, and the tester curtains were the same heavy material as the window curtains.
The maid led her into a smaller attached room with a beautiful stone floor and no windows. There was another blazing fireplace in here, and in the center of the room a tub which had been filled more than halfway with warm water. A large pot of water was steaming over the fire, and a bath tray with soap and rose scented oil waited for her. The maid lifted the heavy pot and struggled to carry it to the tub.
“That’s too heavy for you.” Fiona scolded, moving to help her.
“Oh no, miss, I can do it.” The young woman assured her, horrified at the thought of Fiona helping her.
“Bollix! It’ll be easier if we do it together.” Fiona told her, noticing the shock on the girls face at her salty language. She fought the smile that tried to spread across her face, not wanting to make the girl even more uncomfortable. The girl yielded to Fiona’s will and allowed her to assist her with the pot, dumping the steaming water into the tub and then setting it aside. When she moved to help her out of her clothing Fiona shook her head vehemently.
“Go on, now, I can do this myself.” She told her, and again the girl hesitated. “Go on, it’s fine. You’ve been a great help but I’d rather do this part meself.” She said, shooing the girl out.
“I’ll be just outside the door, if you should need anything, miss.” She told her, and Fiona rolled her eyes. How helpless were the nobles that they had servants to take care of even the most basic of their needs? She shook the thought from her head as she shed her well-worn clothes and left them in a pile on the floor.
She slipped into the hot, soothing water with a grateful sigh and lathered the soap greedily, breathing deeply of the rose oil. She doubted she’d ever enjoyed a bath more in her life. Of course, she usually had to use the water her sisters had already bathed in, so it was never this warm or this clean by the time she washed.
She heard a knock on the door, and the subsequent sound of Elizabeth’s footsteps as she moved to answer it.
“Lord Clayton asked me to bring these down for the young woman.” She heard an older woman’s voice saying.
“Miss?” She heard Elizabeth’s voice call from the doorway.
“You can call me Fiona.” She told her, leaning back in the tub and resting her head against the side, letting her eyes drift shut.
“Uh… Fiona… I’ve some clean clothes for you. Would you like me to lay them out here or have them ready in there?” The girl asked.
“Clothes? How in the ever-lovin’ blue eyed world did you come up with clothes for me?” Fiona asked, turning to look at the doorway.
“Lord Clayton sent them to your rooms. They belong to his brother, Sebastian. Or at least, at one time they did. He’s long outgrown them now.” She explained.
“Oh.” Fiona laughed, marveling at Adam’s resourcefulness. “Out there is fine. Thank you.”
There was more movement, but the door had not yet been shut again. There were still two people in the other room, and Fiona strained her ears to hear what they were saying in hushed tones.
“I can hardly believe he could be so bold as to bring one of his - - - lower class mistresses to the family home! He’s gone to far this time.” The older woman was saying.
“I know!” The younger woman agreed whole heartedly. “It’s as if he wants his father to disavow him!”
“He’s been this way since he was a small boy. He always has to see just how far outside the boundaries he can go. His father should have reigned him in years ago, if you ask me.”
Fiona’s heart was pounding in her chest, a sour taste creeping up into her mouth from the twisting in her gut. She did not know who to be angrier with. The gossiping women who had obviously assumed she was some sort of tainted woman aspiring to the Clayton title, at Adam for whatever history had lead them to think it, or herself for having let her guard down.
Suddenly, her bath was not so enchanting anymore. She hurried to wash and climb out, wrapping a robe, that she found on a hook near the door, around herself. She was ready to get dressed and be on her way, rather than linger here a moment longer. Despite Adam’s reassurances earlier, the maids had driven home what she had always known. She did not belong here.
*********************************************************************
“Fiona, what’s wrong?” Adam asked as he stepped into the library, dressed in a fine clean suit, freshly bathed and clean shaven. Fiona’s heart felt as if it were melting in her chest at the sight of him. Why did he have to be so handsome? She wanted to be indifferent to him, but as soon as he was there with her again, he was no longer the villain the maids had convinced her he was. He was Adam. The man whom she trusted most in the world.
“I’m ready to go back to the ship.” She managed to tell him, having to turn her face away. She could not stand to look into his beautiful dark blue eyes at that moment.
“We haven’t even eaten yet!” Adam objected.
“I’ll eat what I can find in the galley.” She told him, moving to step around him.
“Why are you suddenly so anxious to be gone? Please, Fiona, there’s something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you.” He said, reaching out and placing a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.
“I’m just nervous, I suppose.” She told him weakly, allowing him to lead her to the dining room where a cold meal had been laid out for them. Apples, smoked pheasant, several types of breads and pastries waited there, along with butter and marmalade for the breads. There was tea, of course, and also a bottle of wine had been opened. Fiona swallowed a bitter comment. This was nearly better than the finest meal her family would have in a years time.
She sat and filled her belly in silence, rejecting Adam’s offer of wine and responding to his attempts at pleasant conversation with murmurs and grunts. The servants began clearing the table and Adam asked Fiona to move to the library again, for tea and to discuss this issue he had yet to broach.
“No, Adam. Really, I’ve no patience for your manners tonight.” She told him, standing and moving toward the hallway, intending to leave.
“Wait! All right, all right!” Adam objected, grabbing hold of her wrist to stop her. “Fiona, I want to talk to you about what will happen when we get back to Ireland.” He said, still holding on to her wrist, though his grip had loosened considerably.
“You can’t possibly want to live your life in hiding, and even if you did, it would mean moving frequently, from place to place. People would know you were not a young boy if after a few years who had still not grown into a man.”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” She admitted, pursing her lips, her brows drawn together in concentration as she considered this new obstacle.
“Well, I have.” He continued, his hand sliding down from her wrist, his fingers intertwining with her own. “Your father can’t sell what he doesn’t own.” He told her, and Fiona’s eyes shot quickly to meet his, flashing fiercely. “No, no! That’s’ not what I meant!” he told her, realizing she was thinking of her virginity as the subject of discussion.
“I mean you. If I were to marry you, then he would have no right over you. Nor would any man to whom he agreed to give you.” Adam informed her, smiling as he shared what he thought was a foolproof plan. His smile faded as he saw the indignation clearly etched across her face.
“Did you even consider that I might not want to marry you?” She yelled, yanking her hand away from his. “And just why would you want to marry me? What would you get out of it? I don’t want to be some new way for you to lash out at your father!” She huffed, turning on her heel and storming out into the hallway.
“Fiona, wait!” Adam called, hurrying after her so quickly that when she drew up short, he crashed into her tiny frame and they both stumbled. He reached out to steady her and she shrugged away from his grasp.
*Ahem* he heard John clear his throat, and looked up to see what had made Fiona stop in the first place. Or rather, who.
“Captain Mullen and Carra McGuinness, Lord Clayton. I was just coming to announce their arrival.” He informed him, obviously displeased with the situation in general.
“What the fuck?” He heard Larry saying, and he could not help but laugh bitterly. This had gone so completely different than he had intended it was almost amusing.
“I knew there was something going on between you two.” Carra said with a surprised laugh. “I cannot believe I didn’t see through you before. Why on earth are you living as you have been?” She asked, and Adam could see that Larry was still staring mutely at Fiona.
“I guess it doesn’t matter much anymore.” Fiona said with a heavy sigh. Larry turned to look questioningly at Adam. All he could think to say was
“You’re early.”
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can't wait for the next one! 
It will be interesting to see where the plot goes next...
