He glanced down where her fingers dug into him and pulled the reins back. The mules slowed to a walk and he blew out a breath. “My apologies.”
The Warstein estate stretched out ahead, the big white house reflecting the sunlight. When he turned the team down the oak-lined drive, silence curled around them. He began to breathe in tune to theclip clop of hooves and the creak of harnesses.
Drawing to a stop, he jumped to the ground and held out his hand. Such a beautiful afternoon. Such a beautiful woman to help down. It could almost be a normal day.
He walked her to her steps and came to a stop.
She looked up at him. “What will you do now?”
He shrugged. “What I’m best at. I leave again tomorrow. Will probably stay out for a few months.”
She pushed the toe of her slipper into the dirt, but her face stayed blank.
Ask me to stay.
He shook his head at the absurd thought. “And what of you, Miss Warstein? Will you be alright?”
Copper brows pushed together as hurt flashed through her eyes. Up here, away from the water, the green hues threatened to overtake the blue in them.
Her shoulders dropped. “I wanted to become a sailor my parents would have been proud of. To follow in their footsteps.”
Her eyes glimmered and she twisted away. Climbed one step. “I thought finding the treasure would make me feel closer to them. But instead, I feel farther than ever before.”
He touched her shoulder. “You need to steer your own course in life instead of trying to live up to other people’s standards. You don’t need to follow your family’s legacy; you can make your own.”
She sniffed and he reached out and gently turned her. Wet trails streamed down her cheeks and she pressed her eyes shut.
There was nothing he could say to lessen her hurt. So, he did the only thing he could think of. The step put her face nearly level to his and he skimmed his hands up and brushed away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. When her lashes lifted, he leaned in, hovering a hairsbreadth away from her lips.
Her breath puffed against his chin.
He closed the distance.
“Lieutenant!”
He jerked his head back as the shout echoed around them, followed by the thunder of hooves. Miss Warstein wiped at her face as Isaac pounded up the drive. The officer pulled his horse to a sudden stop and it tossed its head, sending bits of foam flying.
“It’s Thorne. He escaped.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Samantha sat onthe front veranda, stirring her lukewarm tea. Dusk’s shadows stretched out across the grounds, bathing everything in muted purple tones. She’d stood on the steps for a long while after Christian borrowed a horse and tore off to town.
Some of his men had come by a long while after to search the property in case the pirate had revenge on his mind. The housekeeper had finally come out and shooed her inside, forcing her to bathe and eat a light supper. She stretched her legs, free from the confines of arduous skirts. At least no one had tried to stop her from dressing in her breeches and blouse.
She’d twisted her hair into a long braid and she unwound it, letting the damp waves fall to her waist. Her uncle’s carriage rumbled into the drive and she stood. An extra horse followed, tied with a long lead. The one Christian had borrowed.
Her gaze flew to the forest between their properties. Had he returned home?
“Do I want to know why you’re dressed like that?” Uncle Henry climbed the stairs.
“Ships aren’t the only places one can wear breeches.”
He sighed and crossed to the door.
“Any news?”
“Not a single sighting. It’s as if he’s disappeared.”
