“Napoleon began the beetroot sugar industry in France, because he did not want to enrich English coffers by purchasing their imported cane sugar.”
“I had no idea. Are you an aficionado of history?” Her countenance revealed that he’d impressed her.
Luc liked it. “You could say we have that interest in common.”
“I don’t suppose you know of a good source for local antiques? I’d like to furnish the house in antebellum style.”
“I might have a few contacts. I’ll let you know the next time we meet.”
She glanced at the sky. “Good heavens. The moon is about to set, and I’ve yet to get any rest.”
“Then I shall wish you goodnight.”
He stood, then helped her up. They walked in silence to the end of the dock.
“I enjoyed talking with you tonight, Luc.” She couldn’t look him in the eye. How odd that she should be shy about this when she’d stood strong against so much else.
“I enjoyed our time as well, Grace.”
“Will you come to visit again? You said you work late, so perhaps we could have a late dinner?”
Did she hope he would? Luc probed her emotions more deeply but they were too agitated for him to be certain of anything new.
He shook his head. “You honor me with that invitation. However, it may be a month or more before I can return.” Luc had a number of questions that required answers. Answers which Grace could not provide and which would take him some distance from theOnly Love.
Her shoulders slumped a tad. Her gaze dropped to the ground.
Her earlier empathy had led him to think they’d moved beyond her emotional shields.Presumptuous of me, since tonight was only our second real conversation.
“Maybe you could send me a note or a…a letter, letting me know when you’d be available?” she whispered, hesitantly.
The request had been difficult for her.
He couldn’t resist. He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. “I will definitely notify you, Grace Thibodaux.” He brushed his lips across her cheek in a brotherly fashion. Then he offered his elbow. “May I escort you home?”
She smiled.
He felt surrounded by all the stars in the sky.
Will I ever get used to that smile?
Would he ever be able to forget?
“Of course, kind sir.”
Luc retrieved the lantern, as they walked past, handing it to her when they got to her door.
“Won’t you need it to see your way back?” she asked.
“No, I’ve good night vision. I’ll be better off without it.”
Grace shrugged one shoulder. “If you say so. Goodnight, Luc, it was a pleasure to meet you. I…I’m sorry about threatening you when we first met.”
“I’m delighted you decided not to act on the threat.” He pulled his forelock, as he would have when he lived in Ireland and some great noble passed him by. Instinct told him, Grace was more noble than most men and women he’d encountered, with or without a title.
***
Luc drifted away to Boston first. The journey wasn’t difficult, but with every mile his body felt more torn and shredded. This great a distance intensified the pain more than any living being could survive.Then he had more difficulty locating the offices of the newspapers being published in the previous year. His head throbbed and knives sliced his entire body. When he’d docked in Boston a century ago, the papers he’d read were chiefly theCentineland thePatriot. How long ago those names had disappeared, he’d no clue. Eventually, he discovered the current popular periodicals were theGlobe, thePost, theHeraldand theJournal. Luc rested during the day, waiting until all lights were extinguished at night. Then over the course of four days he spent the darkest hours finding and reading the articles about Grace’s trial. The story was exactly as she’d described, yet somehow more horrifying for the vitriol of the articles about her. Her fiancé was painted as a noble man who’d sacrificed his freedom and reputation for love. Grace was scorned as haughtilyindifferent to his plight caused by her evil accusations of criminal fraud. The crime boss, who had brought the charges, had drawn a picture of a greedy, grasping opportunist taking advantage of her clients and her poor beleaguered fiancé.
