“We’ll bring over sheep and other livestock from Hog Island.” He walked to what he called the garden spot, but she shook her head.
“Twogardens.” The vision was clear as a painting in her head and heart. “A vegetable patch on one side and the formal walled garden on the other.”
He smiled. “So be it, then. How do you want the dependencies?”
Smokehouse. Milk house. Laundry. A summer kitchen. They debated, rearranged, and amused themselves by laying out more stones. For a time they forgot the wind and weather and imminent departures. Paramount in Esmée’s mind was making their last hours memorable. She’d not leave Henri with a sore memory like last time.
Ruddy-cheeked, eyes flashing, he was exhilarated in a way she’dseldom seen him. “We’ll hire stonemasons rather than bricklayers. Put in gardens as soon as possible in spring. I’ll leave it to you to order seed and plants from Bartram’s in Philadelphia.”
“I’ll do all I can while you’re away. Father has a great many connections and can arrange for shipping of building materials to the island.”
Their shared excitement was palpable, adding an element of God-ordained joy to the winter’s day. Pale sunlight broke through the clouds, brightening their vision. Their future.
“I’ve always wanted a stone house,” she told him. “Brick is so common in Virginia. This island is better suited to stone.”
“Potomac River stone and sand.” He wrapped hard arms around her. “And we have the Norfolk house if you develop a taste for the city.”
“I shan’t.” Standing on tiptoe, she kissed him. “Now that I’m here on the island, I never want to leave it.”
“I once felt the same standing on the quarterdeck. But not any longer.”
“If a ship has a name, then a house should.” She thought of all the grand residences she knew across Virginia, including Mount Autrey. None held the slightest appeal.
“Ours will be a humble house. No enslaved, just indentures or those willing to work from the almshouse. Mayhap even a few of my crew.” Henri stepped toward the pine path, holding her hand. “There’s something else I need to show you not far from here.”
He led her to a secluded grove, the pines so thick they nearly touched. Her attention shifted to the ground, where loose pine branches lay as if downed in a windstorm.
“Beneath those branches is a buried cache of prizes, including treasure from a sunken Spanish galleon.” He looked over his shoulder toward the lighthouse. “And beneath a floorboard in my cottage there lies a map marking more.”
His tone told her what his words did not. ’Twas vast. A king’s ransom.
“Of which you gave the almshouse part,” she said quietly, the pieces falling into place.
His eyes weren’t on her but on their surroundings. Did he think someone might be watching? Listening? “If something should happen—if I don’t return—”
Her fingers touched his lips in warning. “Say nothing of the sort.”
“You’ll have enough for two lifetimes.” With a tug of her hand, he led her back toward their house’s boundary stones and the open, windswept beach.
Upon hearing theIntrepidwould sail with the tide, Lucy took the stockings and shirt she’d made for Cyprian and walked to the Flask and Sword to bid him goodbye. Esmée’s father accompanied her, leaving Esmée and Henri alone. Likely this was his intent, as he knew how precious their remaining time together was. Supper awaited on the table in Esmée’s cottage. A loaf of wheaten bread and Gloucester cheese. Potato soup as well as roast chicken and apple tansy.
“Lucy has outdone herself,” Esmée exclaimed in gratitude as she and Henri sat down.
“It has the feel of the Last Supper,” he replied, surveying the bounty. “A veritable farewell feast.”
“I’d rather talk about our nuptials,” she said, putting her serviette in her lap. “Shall we wed without ado upon your return?”
“Without ado, aye.” Henri cut his meat as she sampled her soup. “Something small and private. Or do you wish otherwise?”
“I’m relieved, truly. Eliza’s wedding was nothing short of a carnival.”
Too many guests had crowded into their York parlor, and one man had suffered an apoplectic fit. The cake had collapsed in the heat, and a wharf rat had crossed the carpet, leading to a woman’s fainting. Still, Eliza had shone, undaunted.
Henri winked before taking another bite. “You are as bold as your sister in your own right, rowing here and proclaiming your passion for me.”
Amused, Esmée spooned her soup. “So you saw through my little ruse and appointed me lightkeeper anyway.”
“I know an answered prayer when it comes, however cleverly disguised.”
