I’ve decided to forsake all duty to my country and let France gain the upper hand on the high seas, not only on the colonial frontier, while I attend dances and learn to ride and sip chocolate and try to woo the woman I lost a decade ago.
Headache or no, his prayers seemed to reach no farther than the cottage ceiling. The dilemma was even stealing his sleep.
Lord, make Your will plain to me.
“Captain.” A familiar masculine voice turned him round.
“You’re back,” Henri said. Ned had been on the mainland for a sennight. Henri hadn’t expected his return so soon.
“I am.” Ned wore his town clothes, his buckled shoes digging deep into the sand as he walked toward Henri. A smile lit up his clean-shaven face. “I can wait no longer to share the glad news.”
Henri fell into step beside him. “Glad news? Is there to be no war?”
A low laugh. “War is the farthest thing from my mind. I believe I’ve met the woman I’m going to marry—or begin courting, at least.”
Henri’s hand shot out instinctively. “Congratulations, then.”
Ned shook with vigor, never missing a step. “I suppose you’ll not relax your rule about banning married men as crew.”
“Never. Especially newly married ones.” Curiosity overcame him. “So, tell me about her.”
A slow smile transformed Ned’s ruddy features. “She rather bowled me over. I forgot my manners. I nearly forgot to remove my hat at first meeting.”
Henri chuckled, stunned by his words. But Ned of all people deserved a helpmeet. A pastor, albeit a sea chaplain, shouldn’t be alone.
“She’s ... perfect. Small in stature. Comes to about here.” Hethumped his hand just below his shoulder. “Hair as black as a Brazilian diamond. Eyes a peculiar shade of jade.”
“Careful, you’re downright poetic.”
Ned laughed, a merry sound that further nettled Henri’s tempestuous mood. “Isn’t that what lovers do?”
“Does this beauty have a name?”
“Her name is as lovely as all the rest of her.”
“A Williamsburg belle?”
“Nay. York.”
“Where did you meet?”
“Shaw’s Chocolate shop.”
Henri snapped to attention. “Admiral Shaw’s daughter?”
“The same. Miss Esmée Shaw.”
Nay. A thousand times nay.
Henri stopped in his tracks. A sound kick in the gut would have made him gladder. For a few seconds he stood speechless. Then at last he asked, “Are you sure you weren’t just entranced by a surfeit of chocolate?”
“Not at all. I visited her twice there. Once when I first got to York and then today before my leaving.”
“Twice hardly equates to marriage.” Henri shot him a chary look and resumed walking in the direction of the Flask and Sword. “Women are far more complex than they first appear.”
“Where is your sense of romance, Captain?” Ned expelled a breath, eyes on distant York. “Once or twice is often all that’s necessary.”
“I would caution you of the lovesick sailor phenomenon. Lovesick chaplain, in your case.” Henri assumed his commander’s voice. “When one is away months or years at sea, anything remotely feminine appears utterly remarkable.”
