“When you return, we’ll show you the tower,” Esmée told him with a squeeze of his arm.
“All in good time, my dear. For now I must quench my thirst and be among my maritime fellows.” With a smile, he bid them farewell, following the well-trod path that wended through sheltering pines, the new chaplain accompanying him.
Alone with Henri, Esmée watched them go, then returned her attention to the ship.
“You look befuddled,mon amour,” Henri said.
The endearment brought heat to her cheeks. “After years of sameness, I’m reeling from the unpredictable, however welcome.”
He smiled and adjusted his own hat, the cockade a flourish of red and blue, the king’s colors.
“Never mind me.” She looked to the water. “Your ship awaits.”
“How about a tour?”
Her plans for the morning were set aside. “Of course.”
Into the waiting jolly they went, his gaze attentive lest she misstep. She’d not been on one of her father’s ships for years. He’d had but one that rivaled theIntrepid. He still spoke of it fondly.
As they bridged the short distance, they were welcomed by the remaining crew on deck. Esmée stood to one side while Henri greeted the men, who then went about their duties.
She ran a hand along the taffrail. “Father said they launched from a secret location. Why not York’s harbor?”
“Our mission is unknown to most. No need to garner undue attention or alert French spies.”
He led her over the gleaming deck, walking forward and aft, his expression so schooled she couldn’t guess what he was thinking. He opened the door to his quarters, the paneled chamber appointed in blue and gold and spanning the width of the stern. Its large windows faced away from the lighthouse and cottages and took in the sea instead.
He surveyed the bower before them with an amused appreciation, while she was nearly speechless. “The great cabin is fitted up rather like Eliza’s parlor.”
He showed her several interesting features, including his mahogany desk with brass loops that lashed it down during heavy weather and a china cupboard adorned with pewter and silver. A pleasing arrangement of sofa and chairs were atop a large turkey-red rug.
“Forward of the great cabin is my night cabin for sleeping. Small but adequate.”
Her gaze landed on the richly appointed bed through the open doorway. “Hardly a hammock or cot.”
Everything smelled of wood shavings within these timbered walls. Sunlight streamed through the stern’s span of windows and gilded the dark paneling like gold dust. Despite her cape, she shivered. She’d always found it harsh that ships had no heat other than the galley’s cookstove. Not even the captain’s quarters.
Henri picked up a box wrapped in decorated paper and silk ribbon from atop his desk. Eliza’s gift? She read the attached card.
Dearest Esmée,
A silhouettist came to town recently and amused us. He captured my profile perfectly, so I am giving it to you lest you forget your younger sister while stranded on that desolate island of yours.
Your loving Eliza
Delighted, Esmée held the paper up to the light, astonished a simple paper silhouette could capture so much of her comely sister.
“Shadow portraits.” Henri smiled. “Orà la Pompadour, as the French call them.”
How like Eliza to send something unusual. Esmée returned the gift to its velvet-lined box, wishing she missed Eliza—and the mainland—more than she did.
Henri came to stand behind her at the windows, enclosing her in his arms. “When I sail, I want to remember this.” He rested his cheek against her upswept hair. “Your being here with me in this place, if only for a brief time.”
Already she felt the emptiness of his going. The slight creaking of the ship and cradle-like motion of its gentle rocking gave her only an inkling of what shipboard life was like.
“How is it on the open sea?” Though Father had told her, she wanted to hear it from Henri himself.
“Noisy. Crowded. A great many sights and smells and sounds on board.”
