“But we... I thought we had all day. If I had known, I would have come down sooner.”
“No matter.”
“But it does matter. How could you even think of leaving without saying good-bye?”
“I sent a footman and housemaid to find you, but—”
“Never mind that now.” She reached out and grasped his arm. “I asked Winnie about the prediction. She said she doesn’t remember saying you would die. Perhaps you misunderstood her.”
His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. “She denied it?”
“Well, she didn’t deny it completely. She remembers saying something about your inheritance, but surely if she’d meant anything so dire she would remember.”
He tilted his head to one side and gazed at her fondly. “Are you sure you are not saying this to... boost my confidence? To try and trick destiny?” He said it in a light, teasing tone, but she remained serious.
“I wouldn’t lie about something like this.”
He sobered. “No, of course not. But neither would I. Winnie’s memory may be faulty, but mine is mercilessly clear. Don’t forget, I changed the course of my life—and yours—at least in small part because I believed her declaration possible.”
“Are you sorry you did so?”
“You know better than that.”
“Well, I don’t believe Winnie has your future in her hands. Nor does Napoleon Bonaparte. Only God.”
He squeezed her hand. “I believe that too.”
He turned toward the door, but she held fast to his arm. “Don’t go.”
“I have to. But Lord help me, I wish I could stay...”
Her eyes heated. “Then you have to promise to come back.”
“I promise to try.”
“Good.” She smiled, causing a hot tear to spill forth and trail down her cheek. “Don’t forget me.”
He pulled a miniature portrait from his pocket and showed it to her. “Never.”
She was stunned to see it was one of the early likenesses Wesley had done of her. “You have that?”
“Yes. You go with me wherever I go.” He tucked her hand beneath his arm, and they walked outside together.
She glanced around at the family waiting to say their good-byes, the coachman and groom, and fellow officers in the carriage. She murmured, “If there were not so many people, I would—”
He pulled her into her arms and murmured in her ear, “What other people?” He kissed her temple, then the tear from her cheek. She raised her face, and he pressed his mouth to hers in a fierce, possessive kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, and he drew her closer still.
One of the officers hooted from the carriage and the other whistled.
“Come on, Overtree. We’ll miss our ship at this rate.”
“Aww, let him kiss his missus. Still on their honeymoon, after all.”
The captain broke the kiss at last, resting his cheek atop her head. He said in a gravelly whisper, “IfI do come back, that will be the end of separate beds. Understand?”
“Yes,” she breathed, heart beating hard. “I should hope so.”
His eyes met hers, serious. Measuring. “You’re killing me, woman. You know that, don’t you? I didn’t realize you were on Boney’s side.”
