“Careful, or your illegal ways will become a habit.”
His eyes grinned. He grabbed his walking stick, pushed up to standing, and reached his hand to her.
After she stashed the journal and figurine in her briefcase, she took his hand and stood.
He helped her into the rowboat, climbed in, and used the oar to shove off.
Then he rowed, those delicious arms doing what they did second best—after holding her. His gaze settled on her, even more delicious, but then he puffed out a loud breath. “We have something to discuss. I met with Svend this morning, and he introduced me around. They’re sending me to London. We’re working on a way to get you there too.”
Else cringed. She was already scheduled to go to London—then the US.
His brows tented in concern. “They want me to work with Christmas Møller at the BBC and make broadcasts as the Havmand.”
Her heart strained, but she said what was needed. “That’s perfect. I’m so proud of you.” It truly was perfect.
“Now to get you there. I’ll sneak you in my suitcase if I must. I can’t bear to be apart from you.”
“Oh dear.” Else worked her lower lip. “I—I don’t want to be apart either, but I’m going to America.”
“America?” He paused mid-stroke. “How did you manage that?”
How could she keep secrets from him? But she had no choice. “I’m not allowed to tell you why I’m going or what I’ll be doing. I’m so sorry.”
For some reason, that made him smile. “Continuing your clandestine ways, I see.”
“But in America. Oh, why did I agree? I don’t want to be away from you.”
“America.” He resumed rowing, and his eyes narrowed. “Letme work on that. The Ahlefeldts have connections, and I know people.”
Wouldn’t that be wonderful? To be together with him? Not in danger. Not hiding their love. Could she let herself dream?
Hemming pulled the rowboat beside a pier among half a dozen rowboats, and he whipped a rope around a post.
Then he knelt before her and scooped up both her hands, his eyes alight. “Dr. Elsebeth Jensen, will you marry me?”
Else gasped. For months, she’d struggled with the concept of marrying a man who could barely read—and then embraced it. Now a nobleman knelt before her, a learned man. But under the polished clothes and speech lay her darling Hemming.
She lifted his hands and kissed them, her heart brimming. “Baron Henrik Henning Havmand Hemming Andersen Ahlefeldt—as soon as I can, I will gladly marry every single one of you.”
He chuckled. Then he burrowed his hand into her hair and gave her kisses, over and over, from every single one of him.
51
HMTAQUITANIA, NEWYORKHARBOR
MONDAY, DECEMBER6, 1943
As Else fastened one button on her overcoat, Henrik unbuttoned another. He repeated the process until his wife unleashed the melody of her laughter.
She twisted away. “We’ll never leave the cabin at this rate.”
“That’s my plan.” He wrapped his arms around her and burrowed in her neck.
Else chuckled and pushed away from him. “You have duties here in New York, Baron Havmand, and so do I.”
Henrik released his hold. But only because the accommodations in their hotel would be far more ... accommodating.
“I do hate to leave.” Else straightened her hat. “I can’t imagine a sweeter honeymoon.”
