Rhys put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “No. I do not think there was anything wrong for wanting what you did, especially since you have never had the opportunity to simply be a daughter, a miss or had the opportunity to enjoy being frivolous.”
She glanced up into his eyes to gauge whether he was being honest or simply telling her what he assumed she wanted to hear. But she read sincerity in the green depths, which helped alleviate her guilt, but not all of it.
“So that is the reason they are dead. I wanted a holiday. They may have been safely in the harbor had I not wanted to holiday.”
“You cannot know that as a fact, nor should you take responsibility for what happened. If your father and uncle had not wanted you to enjoy a holiday, your uncle would not have invited you and your father would not have allowed you to go.” He frowned. “Why wasn’t your father present?”
“He was supposed to be, but he was required to be in Dominica as the British finalized plans for Martinique.”
“There is your answer. Your father wanted you to visit your uncle. Otherwise, he would have kept you and your sisters home with him.”
“Except, he had wanted to do just that and I am the one who had begged him to let me go because I knew that there would be servants aplenty to watch over my younger siblings and I could be without responsibility for a very short time.”
Rhys squeezed her shoulder. “There is nothing wrong with what you wanted or what you did to gain that time.”
Oh, part of her knew that he was right, but Tempest also knew that she would also carry a good deal of guilt from her decision for the rest of her life.
She glanced out over the water. “The sun has set.” Soon it would be too dark to see without a lantern, candle or torch. “I do not suppose you finished the boat.”
“No,” he chuckled. “That can wait another day.”
She sat for the longest time, her head on his shoulder, and wished that she could remain that way forever.
“You do not think me horrible?” she asked quietly.
“Not at all. If anything, you are admirable.”
No one had ever called her that before and she rather enjoyed the compliment.
“Are you still going to call on me when this is over?” she asked. “Or were you telling a falsehood.”
Rhys chuckled. “I have every intention of calling on you. Remember, I find that I like you.”
She tilted her head back and smiled at him. “I like you too.”
He said nothing, simply smiled.
Was he humoring her? Did she care?
No. She did not.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
Fourteen
He supposed given her slight intoxication, such a question should not have surprised him. “Why do you ask?”
“You are staring at my lips.”
“Yes, I suppose that is something I have contemplated in the past.”
“Then why do you not?”
“It is a complication.”
“A kiss is not a complication and I would rather have it out of the way.”
This time he pulled back. “Out of the way?” What the blazes did she mean by that?
