‘I suppose the day must be faced.’
‘This has been our own little world, Sebastian. Will our normal world be the same?’
He swung his legs out of the bed and sat up, looking down at her slender body, half concealed by the bedclothes. The nasty bruises on the delicate flesh looked so much worse in the daylight and his anger rose at the thought of Freddy and the damage he could have wrought—had already wrought.
‘Nothing will ever be the same again, my dearest, and that is a good thing,’ he whispered, stooping to kiss her again
Dressed and tidied as best they could manage in their salt-encrusted clothes, Sebastian and Isabel ate a simple breakfast of bread, cheese and small beer. Sebastian hadn’t shaved in two days and, although Isabel had tied her hair back, long salt-stiffened wisps escaped around her face.
She pulled a face, trying to tidy the curls away. Sebastian thought she had never looked so beautiful.
‘It needs to be washed in fresh water,’ she said. ‘I long for a proper bath.’
‘It will be some hours before the coach reaches us, Lady Somerton. Would you care for a walk along the beach?’ Sebastian asked
Every bone and muscle in her body ached, but Isabel agreed, and they stepped out into the cool day. He wrapped his arm around her, folding her into the voluminous Garrick, and together they walked down through the dunes to the scene of the drama of the previous day.
The rain had cleared and the sea had withdrawn far into the Wash, leaving a broad expanse of glistening sand. The little fishing boats were back, listing on the sand and mud and waiting for the next high tide. Sebastian stopped on the side of the creek to ask about the boat that Freddy had commissioned to take him to France.
The man he addressed scratched his beard and looked out at the boats on the creek bed.
‘Not back yet,’ he said.
Sebastian turned back to look at Isabel. There was no need for words. The grim look on Isabel’s face was reflected in his own. It would appear that Freddy had escaped.
‘There’s no justice,’ Isabel whispered, slipping her hand into his, ‘but he’s gone. Nothing more we can do.’
Sebastian squeezed her hand, his heart overflowing with love for her ...her courage and her stoicism.
Hand in hand, they walked along the shore. Out of sight of the village, Sebastian pulled Isabel down beside him on the sand. They sat side by side, looking out to sea.
‘Did you find Fanny?’ Isabel asked.
Sebastian nodded. ‘She was feeling a little sorry for herself, but she should live.’
‘I wish I could feel some pity for Fanny, but I don’t,’ Isabel said.
Sebastian gathered her hand in his and kissed her fingers. ‘You can’t force yourself to feel an emotion, Isabel, but if you can’t feel pity, at least forgive her.’
‘I hear your stepfather in those words, Sebastian,’ she said.
‘Possibly.’
‘Did you forgive the murderers of Inez?’
Sebastian picked up a piece of driftwood and drew patterns in the damp sand while he considered the answer.
‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘If I hadn’t forgiven them, the hatred would have consumed me.’ He looked up at the sky and added, ‘Mind you, I killed them first.’
‘Sebastian!’ Isabel pushed him and he fell back on the sand, pulling her with him.
He rolled over until he was on top of her and kissed her. She put her hands around his head, pulling his face down towards her, and they kissed long and hard, exploring each other in a different way to their passionate lovemaking of the previous night.
When they were spent, they lay side by side on the sand, looking up at the clouds scudding across the sky.
‘Freddy told me that he used to work in a place that serviced the needs of gentlemen. He had been procured at the age of sixteen,’ Isabel said.
‘A molly house?’ Sebastian said as the snippets of Freddy’s life fell into place.
