This is the serialized fiction under the pen-name of best-selling author, Sharon Thompson.
Welcome to Penny Best’s world of romance!
Read on for the first episodes of her thrilling historical romance The Donegal Gold.
When two women, one hundred years apart, develop a perilous obsession with sunken treasure.
Foreword. This fiction novel is inspired by true events.
One of the most famous wrecks off the Donegal coast is the Laurentic. Two German mines sank this converted troopship in January 1917. Her crew successfully abandoned the ship, but three hundred and fifty-four pour souls died of hypothermia in her lifeboats. The Laurentic was carrying about forty-three tons of gold bars when she sank. This was en route to Canada to buy ammunition and guns. Most of the three thousand two hundred and eleven bars were salvaged by 1924… but accounts vary about what gold is still missing…
Episode One
FOREVER LOVED
With the stub of a pencil, Eliza Bryon wrote into her small notebook marked with a fake name. Centurial, Return Journey. Despite rough seas docking is on schedule for Liverpool. 5th January 1917
Pulling the drab cardigan around her she smoothed a hand over the threadbare tweed skirt and scanned the empty benches on the covered deck.
All was as it should be, but Eliza neither looked nor felt like herself. A man coughed above the drone of the engines. No one was watching, but a furtive peek at her small, gold wristwatch showed it was shortly after five. Harold would definitely be wondering where she was by now.
With a tired sigh, she closed the notebook and slid it inside the flimsy handbag. It noted the mundane as well as the intricate. It was hard to know what would be important when the time came.
Percy passed by and smiled salaciously. She held her breath as his breath tickled her cheek, ‘See you back in cabin seven. My shift is over. We’re almost in Liverpool.’
Eliza’s cheeks reddened; she adored that dimpled smile… she might even love it, and she didn’t care that it was wrong. Thankfully, she had no parents or close family to hear of her immorality. It was only her own reputation she risked and as time passed the terrible guilt had eased.
It hadn’t taken much persuasion for her to agree to come on the short flit with Percy. She wanted to see how much The Centurial had changed and to take notes for the most important trip they would make together in the next few weeks.
She was much changed from when she started volunteering to help the suffragettes. Their interest in her ambitions was joyous and this affinity with strong women found Eliza volunteering at the nearest hospital. It was unusual for a married lady like her to be in such places.
‘You do know that you will run off with me eventually?’ he said with those twinkling blue eyes. ‘In the meantime, you’ll agree to come to the pictures?’
‘I can’t,’ she hissed showing him her wedding ring. ‘And if I go with you, my husband will hear of it and murder me in my bed.’
‘Is he that bad?’ Percy asked leaning ever closer. ‘He would never know.’
Percy’s infected leg wound smelled of bandages and pungent wound ointment, but his presence made Eliza soar to immoral places in her mind. His persistence was a source of amusement, and then he was a thrilling excitement. He came back to her office door every day until she gave in to his delightful demands. The adoration and attention were just what a thirty-three-year-old, lonely, married woman needed.
He had stood so close, caressing her cheek, and when he leaned in Eliza realized she did not want to resist any longer. As his lips met hers, the sensation reverberated to the depths of her soul.
‘You’re so pale when you talk about him,’ Percy said, ‘but with me, you will always blush and, I promise that you’ll be forever loved.’
Eliza vowed to remember those words. Forever loved.
Now, two years later, their illicit times alone were few and far between. Eliza thrived on the danger. Yet, it was still something she found hard to embrace.
Percy was assigned as a merchant seaman to troopships such as The Centurial but this was the first time Eliza dared to join him for a few days. Her reasons for traveling were all lies and her staying in a cabin with Percy was daring. Trips such as these were precarious for many reasons. The purposes for liners had changed as much as Eliza’s true reasons to be on this one.
Back in 1900, the timid eighteen-year-old Eliza had just married a pompous politician and they sailed aboard the newly built Centurial for their honeymoon. Ships, ports, and pyramids were the mainstay of her life back then. She thought she was in love with the large-eared and well-heeled older man. But, after seventeen childless years of marriage to a womanizer who liked to lock her away from life, Eliza learned how to pick the mechanisms on most doors thanks to tips and tricks from her dearest and longest friend, Mr. Gabriel Winter. Even on their honeymoon, the doors of the Centurial were in need of her talents. Eliza became far too good at escaping and Harold no longer wished to keep her. Were it not for the scandal Harold would surely divorce her.
Now, she noted all of the changes aboard the Centurial, the requisitioned troopship for transporting soldiers back and forth through enemy-infested waters. A few civilian passengers, mostly men, said a cheery hello. But most of the comforts were swopped for military guns and regalia and the once opulent surroundings were stripped bare or made functional.
The suites and rooms were filled with a cargo of one kind or another and Eliza shook her head, as she shuffled around, steadying herself in the swirling seas.
‘Despite these waves, you seem to have found your sea legs.’ A fellow passenger made his way past awkwardly. ‘That corridor is for the crew. See the sign?’
‘Thank you,’ Eliza kept her gaze low. ‘I’m aboard to be with my husband and to see if I might have the stomach for nursing aboard vessels such as this.’
‘How brave, ‘I hope your husband knows how lucky he is. Good day to you.’ The man nodded farewell.
Eliza imagined Harold’s disapproving eyes under his thick spectacles. Then, fear caught in her throat. She was brave, perhaps… but she was far from gallant.
The air inside Cabin 7 was stale and the space was only a bed with plain bedclothes. There was very little of the luxury she was used to. Eliza hummed to herself as she waited. She was lonesome even though he was only minutes away. They would make love again later in this small narrow bed. It would be immoral and yet – what they had planned to do next was so much worse, for it was illegal. Treason, she supposed. In times of war, it was wrong for them to be selfish and self-serving.
But, for Eliza and Percy to be together, they had to stick to their course and trust one another implicitly.
Sinking onto the bed, Eliza lay onto the pillow and closed her eyes. She could do anything Percy wanted – for she was forever loved.
Episode Two
IT ALL BEGINS
March 2017
Dr. Charley Collins dropped her mobile phone into the toilet - yet again! Fuck
Even though she was a natural blonde she rebelled against the usual stereotype. However, Charley did have a bad memory. That and this slight clumsiness were her only quirks. Or the only flaws she would admit to.
The person on the other end was still in full flow as Charley shouted, ‘Fintan, I’ll have to call you back.’
She dried off the phone as best she could with a wrinkled nose. Her plan to arrange a meeting with her old colleague would have to wait, and she would have to give in to her father buying her a waterproof phone for her upcoming twenty-fifth birthday.
While thoroughly washing her hands, she noticed the damp patches under her arms in the new blouse. ‘Shite!’ she hissed under her breath. The lecture at Trinity College on regional dialects had gone down well but she was obviously stressed. The sweat marks wouldn’t stain if she got it soaked and hand-washed before her new landlord and fellow housemate, Jed, flung it into the washing machine.
She breathed a deep grateful sigh. These first two months in the new year of 2017 had not been as bad as she feared. After two years of studying and traveling the world, she was again settling into the Irish style of living. The only bane of her life at the minute – was Jed Sweeney. Her housemate wanted to be more than her landlord. He tried not to infuriate her and of course, this frustration was all her own fault. For she had wanted to live with this extremely attractive bar-tender. Also, his saving grace was his glorious Donegal accent, his extreme handsomeness, and his almost OCD tendencies about cleaning their shared terraced house in Santry.
The 16A swung into the bus stop across from the side gate at Trinity College and Charley lugged her Fairfax and Favour handbag behind her. She sat it onto her knees as she plonked into the very front seat on the top deck and watched the rain patter the dirty bus window. As the vehicle trundled out the familiar route, Charley missed her phone for taking notes. She had turned it off and she didn’t want to chance putting it on again until Jed had a look at it. He had resurrected her mobile many times over the past two months. Credit where it was due, Jed Sweeney was a useful beauty.
Traveling mid-afternoon in Dublin wasn’t so bad traffic-wise, but the bus stopped abruptly on a regular basis and the wet smell of the other passengers wasn’t too pleasant. There was much to think about, and yet, all she could do was watch the world outside go on at urban speeds while she sat still.
The bus stopped directly outside number 77, where she now lived. She thanked the driver and held her handbag close to protect it from the rain as she noticed Jed’s brand-new, navy Audi in the driveway. When she unlocked the front door, she could see down the short corridor to the kitchen. Music was playing, Ed Sheeran’s The Shape of You. Charley loved the song and hummed along. Jed was standing in just a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms next to the sink. His chiseled torso was almost hairless, and his short, blonde hairstyle stood on end like he always had a ruffled bedhead. Charley groaned and without saying a word, she handed him her mobile phone.
He scoffed. ‘How did today go, Gorgeous?’ he asked tossing Charley’s mobile into a sealed plastic bag and pouring rice grains in on top. ‘This will go into the hot press with the towels – yet again. Leave it now for a few hours but I doubt we will keep getting lucky with this method.’
Charley made them a cup of tea, listening to the last of the song, as Jed ran up the stairs two at a time to place her mobile in their hot press, beside the hot water cylinder, to dry out fully.
‘Put that body on me… I’m in love with the shape of you,’ she sang.
‘You didn’t tell me how the lecture went?’ Jed said when back in the kitchen. He looked all interested as he pulled on a black t-shirt that had, ‘Stud’ on the front in large white letters. ‘And did I tell you that you look super sexy in that pencil skirt and tight blouse?’
‘Thanks for helping me with the phone but stop being a sleaze,’ Charley said. He was only trying to be nice and she knew it, but he overstepped the boundaries all the time. It was something she hadn’t missed about Irish men. ‘I know you mean it as a compliment Jed, but Jeeze, it sounds awful when we’re just housemates.’
‘When you live with me, you mean?’ Jed said, his huge grin covered by the mug. ‘I’m actually a good fella, you know. And there aren’t many of us about. If you leave that blouse, I’ll hand wash it for you later. And yes, I’ll be gentle with it. I love your clothes. You’ve got great style. I think it’s that time you spent with those sexy French women. Stop scowling at me and tell me how it went today?’
He didn’t just mean the guest lecture. Charley had opened up slightly too much to Jed over wine. And he knew about the important confirmations she was waiting on.
‘The phone call literally went down the toilet,’ she admitted with a grimace. ‘I’ve to call him back. You don’t need to wash and cook for me, I’m not paying you rent for that.’
‘You could pay me for other services…’ he started and then stopped. ‘In all seriousness, you could. There was a woman at the bar last night who said I’d make good money as a male escort.’ His blue eyes were full of expectant praise. ‘I’d be open to offers.’
Charley rolled her eyes so far back in her head that it physically hurt.
‘I’m joking,’ Jed said coming closer. Nice new aftershave wafted. She noticed his slight stubble and she took a peek at his nice bare feet. For a man, Jed had pretty toes. She had almost told him that a few times, but his inflated ego stopped her.
‘You’re annoyed about missing that colleague’s call?’ she heard him ask. ‘It’s just not meant to be…yet. Just like us. Some day it will click together and then I’ll be a happy man.’
Charley opened her mouth to chastise him but he jumped back and held his hands up. ‘I know. I’ll stop. But things happen when the time is right, Charley. Like, I cannot force you to fall for me, and you cannot force the progress on this work of yours. No matter what passion you have for it. Like me, you’ll just have to be patient.’
‘But this is big Jed. I mean huge. Not only is it historically significant, and linguistically massive…there’s also the equivalent of at least five million pounds at stake.’
*Warning the next episode has an explicit love scene
Episode Three
NOTHING IS THE SAME
Eliza slept until Percy came back to the cabin. He bundled in the door in haste and the seas made him lose his footing. He landed onto the bed hitting his thigh with a curse. He winced as Eliza reached out to comfort him. Without a word, he turned out the light. It was almost a part of their ritual lovemaking. Eliza preferred the fumbling. Being seen for who she really was did not help.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked in the gloom, but she didn’t take time to answer him. There was too much kissing to be done. Eliza could never get enough of his mouth or the feel of his weight on her. The whole procedure was strange. It made her giggle.
Percy usually got impatient with her worries about letting him touch her intimately. He wasn’t forceful, and although he sometimes insisted, Eliza liked that he took charge of her in that way. She enjoyed his ardor. It was extremely alluring to hear him pant and feel him perspire. She liked that feeling of dominion over someone else’s body and pleasure. They’d not been intimate as many times as Eliza would have liked, and this fever between them was always high and urgent.
‘Kiss me,’ she asked impatiently finding his face to hold. His arms were muscular, his chest hard and his groin erect. When he kissed Eliza, she forgot to breathe, lost the guilt and worries, and drifted into the pleasure of them together. His open mouth took her tongue. He lay onto her and fumbled her skirt higher. The panties she wore in anticipation were her best and him finding them in the darkness, made Eliza cringe. Yet, she needed him so badly. ‘I cannot believe it,’ she whispered.
‘Neither can I,’ he muttered moving their hands together on his excitement. He moaned a lot. Eliza liked that noise. ‘Take off your blouse?’ he groaned. ‘Please. I might ruin it if I pull at it in the dark.’
Making herself naked, Eliza covered her places despite the dark, and the ship swayed and pitched.
‘I got a sheath,’ he said. ‘It feels horrid but we should use it.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed grateful that he mentioned it. Opening her legs, his hand touched off the top of her trembling thigh. ‘Thank you,’ she said searching for his kisses with her mouth. He lay over between her legs, continuing to kiss so passionately that she thought she might cry from the pleasure. When they merged like this, she disappeared into the haze of loveliness that rose from those intimate places she refused to acknowledge at any other time. She was desperate, clinging, and alive.
‘I need you,’ Percy whispered.
She agreed wholeheartedly. When he entered her, the sensation was smooth and sensual. Better than ever.
Percy moaned.
She did too.
He withdrew slightly and plunged in deeper and Eliza groaned with joy. The rhythm started and his kissing resumed. Losing all sense of decorum, Eliza pawed at his back, delighted in the sensations and in Percy’s mutterings of, ‘Yes, that’s it, god, aye, Eliza, I need…’
Whatever he was saying, Eliza didn’t care. For she was urging him on with a mantra of her own. ‘I’ve never felt this way before. Dear God, yes. More. I need you.’
His movements were rougher than usual. Faster. Deeper. Their scent was pleasant and the heat rose. With it, a new sensation traveled over Eliza. She was lost in the groans, overtaken with passion, and murmuring in ecstasy. Before she knew it, a peak of pleasure rippled through her and made her groan loudly. Almost in unison, Percy shuddered to his end too.
That was a first.
She had never abandoned her inhibitions before, never succumbed to his body with hers so fully. It made her vulnerable and teary.
She was grateful for the dark as Percy withdrew and pecked a kiss onto her pounding cheek. ‘That was fast,’ Percy apologized. ‘I’m sorry.’
Eliza liked his Donegal accent and the considerate way he was in their bed. ‘I enjoyed that,’ she purred – for it was the truth. ‘The best yet.’
‘I thought that you did,’ he said with pride in his voice. ‘That made it very quick. I missed you.’
They knocked teeth as he grappled to kiss her. He cursed and then a light lit the space. Eliza squinted but pulled the blanket over her breasts and crotch quicker than the flash. Percy didn’t mind her seeing his nakedness, for he stood as he removed the sheath, and rearranged himself back into his long johns.
‘I missed our love-making,’ Eliza admitted and covered her mouth with a hand.
She had really said that. How naughty was she becoming?
She grinned.
Percy lay down again and snuggled her in next to him, trying to keep them both on the narrow mattress, his sturdy arm under her neck and around her back. He felt her hip and side, and then sighed loudly and nestled in against her. Without another word, the rise and fall and depth of his breathing told Eliza he was sleeping.
Bless him – he was exhausted.
They’d be in Liverpool soon. She should be taking notes up on deck. There was work to be done but she was here.
A sailor’s mistress!
Percy had not been needed on deck. Perhaps, he told other men he needed this time away. Had he mentioned why?
She was afraid to try to look at her watch, for it would waken Percy, but the activity aboard and the general length of time she’d possibly been below deck told her that they were almost back in port after the two-day trip. Their time would be over. She would be Mrs. Bryon, yet again. The only consolation was – that she had an escape plan from her prison.
The men aboard might know she wasn’t really Percy’s wife. But, if they did, there was no hint of it when she made her way to quietly disembark. Percy didn’t see her off the gangway.
‘A quiet, calm goodbye here is nicer anyhow,’ he suggested at the door of the cabin, helping Eliza into her overcoat and handing her the leather gloves and flimsy handbag. ‘Let me tie your scarf,’ he said knotting the silk under her trembling chin. ‘Don’t cry, it won’t be long until this is all over. Remember my promise. Forever loved.’
Standing on the dock, she thought about turning to wave her goodbyes, but she sensed that Percy was not there. Anyhow, she would be back to him in no time and then nothing would be the same again.
Thank you for reading the opening chapters.
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This is the first of 3 full-length novels that will be released over the next year.
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