“He was, rather,” she agreed.
“So have I been.”
“You will get no argument from me.” She said it dryly, however.
This seemed to encourage him. “May I…” He gestured at the folly stairs.
She acquiesced with an ironic flourish of her arms.
He approached, slowly. He scaled two of the steps. Then paused.
They regarded each other. Her pounding heart made the blood ring in her ears.
He reached into his coat, and emerged with something. He settled it delicately on the railing.
It was an exquisitely carved little box, upon which stood a tiny woman all clothed in frilly white.
Her heart squeezed when she saw that Jacob’s hands were shaking as he wound it.
Suddenly, the little dancer was pirouetting to a Bach Minuet.
“Ohhh,” she sighed. Enraptured.
They watched the little dancer go around and around.
“I commissioned this for you from a craftsman in Barbados,” he told her softly.
Isolde slowly turned to him in wary amazement.
“I asked him if he could arrange for her to belch every third turn, but he told me it would cost two hundred more pounds.”
She stifled a shout of laughter.
His face lit briefly.
But they were both still tense and cautious.
He cleared his throat. When he spoke, his voice was a little shaky. “My ship was delayed, Isolde, because a fever leveled everyone on it. Two men died. I nearly did. Everseas are hard to kill, however, you’ll be gratified to hear. And while I was so weak, all I could think, when Icouldthink, was that I never told you that I always take a short, sharp breath whenever you walk into a room. Every time your beauty is a fresh shock to me.”
She stared at him, stunned speechless.
He nodded, as if he was relieved to have finally said that. “At the assembly…I found I was not prepared to withstand the pain of witnessing your pain. Obviously, I handled it badly. If I embarrassed or frightened you, I am here to apologize, and beg your forgiveness. And to tell you I understand why that poor wretched bastard Romeo wanted to die. Because watching you suffer made me want to die. Simply put, I would die for you.”
“Oh, Jacob.” Her eyes had begun to burn with tears, and she fought them. Not yet, she told herself sternly. Not bloody yet. Neither one of them had earned their redemption yet.
For a moment, nothing but a breeze ruffling the leaves on the trees disturbed the silence.
“Isolde, I shouldn’t have left for the West Indies the way I did.” His voice was taut with pain. “Without?—”
She shook her head roughly. “I knew why you did. I understood you needed to go. Iwantedyou to be able go. I knew I would miss you. And I knew that missing you would be difficult. I thought it might be romantic.” She paused. “I was wrong about the last,” she added dryly. “And I underestimated how difficult.”
He quirked the corner of his mouth. But his eyes did not commit to the smile.
“The thing was, Isolde… no matter how you feel about me now, I want you know that you were in everything. I saw you everywhere. You were my first thought in the morning and my last at night. I wanted to see the world. I still do. And I don’t suppose that will ever change. But I didn't fully realize that I saw the world through you. As though you’re a part of me.”
“Oh, Jacob…” she breathed. It was everything she’d wanted to hear from him.
“Eight months is a long time. I promise I haven’t changed, unless it’s to become more myself.” He paused. “Have…you changed?” He asked this delicately.
