“I pray the mirage never ends, Captain, and ’twill be smooth seas for us in the years to come.”
He looked down at her, gathering her hands in his. “Now seems a good time to tell you I won’t be returning to sea. I’ve told the governor the same. My maritime career is finished.”
Finished.And said with such finality. “Are you ... sure?”
“Without a doubt. My future is you. Our children. Indigo Island. And something tells me you’ll not voice a single objection,ma belle.”
Laughing, she snaked her arms around his neck as he swept her off her feet into his arms and walked toward the lighthouse standing stalwart in the distance.
CHAPTER
sixty-nine
Esmée opened her eyes to a rooster’s crowing. Lying quietly, she pondered yesterday’s events with a thankful heart, Henri’s bulk warm and disheveled beside her. His boots stood near the bed along with his queue ribbon and her lavender gown. Raising a hand, she admired her posy ring, feeling every inch married. Would that they could stay abed all day. But life continued all around them, the sun streaming across the coverlet and rousing them to greet the day.
She must check in on the women and babies first thing. Eliza had mentioned leaving soon, perhaps with Nathaniel on the morrow. The jolly would return them to York. Would Alice and Ruenna leave too? If so, ’twould just be her and Henri here on their end of the island and Lucy in the adjoining cottage. Construction would soon begin. Esmée could plant the remainder of their garden and welcome summer when it came.
The rooster’s renewed crowing brought Henri round. He blinked, eyes half-shuttered against the sun. And then he got his bearings, rolling toward her and tickling her without mercy.
She laughed till the tears came, her words breathless. “Stop, Husband, lest we bring all the islanders to our door!”
“Nay,ma chérie. We are honeymooning. They wouldn’t dare.”
To escape him, she rolled away and hung her feet over the side of the feather mattress. “I must see to your breakfast like I’ve dreamed of doing for years. Hot chocolate and toast for you to start.”
He reached for her again, but she eluded him, dressing hastily in the silk gown she’d discarded. She wouldn’t return to her workaday clothes just yet. Peering in his shaving mirror, she wound up her hair as best she could, secured it with pins, and topped it with a lace cap, aware he watched her every move.
He pushed himself up on one elbow. “You’re blushing. It becomes you.”
She blew him a kiss as she started for the kitchen, her stomach a-rumble. The cottage was chill. The hearth’s fires had gone out in the night. She stirred the kitchen coals with a poker, then went in search of wood. And drew up short just past the threshold.
An unfamiliar boat, a sloop she did not recognize, was docking at the pier. Wariness needled her. One man in particular drew her notice. Was that the Williamsburg sheriff? His grim expression soured the high mood from their wedding day.
It was then she heard a feminine shout.
Eliza?
Her sister’s voice crested before Eliza spun on her heel and returned to her cottage with an emphatic slamming of the door. Hard enough to make the dishes rattle, surely.
Esmée returned inside posthaste. “Henri,” she called.
“I’m nearly dressed,” he replied from the bedchamber.
“I fear we have company.”
He entered the parlor but drew up short at the window. His face showed no surprise or alarm, though her own heart ticked like a wayward clock. When he stepped outside, she followed, standing with him to watch the men on board disembark.
“Go inside and I’ll join you shortly.” His low tone brooked no questions. No argument.
She pulled her attention from the sheriff to Henri’s now guarded face. “All right.”
Head down, she took the shell path to her former cottage. Eliza stood looking out the window. As soon as Esmée let herself in, Eliza whirled on her.
“Why is that blackguard Osborn here with his minion magistrates?” Eliza’s eyes lit with cold fire. “They were skulking for half an hour before landing.”
At her outburst, Alice and Lucy scurried to the kitchen, babes in arms.
Esmée joined Eliza at the window. “I sense their coming bodes ill.”
