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Authors: Lara Hays

Tags: #Romance, #Young Adult, #Adventure

Oceanswept (16 page)

BOOK: Oceanswept
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CHAPTER THIRTY

 

 

N
icholas carried me over the dusty streets of town and set me down once we reached the beach. It was a clear night and a brilliant moon hung in the sky, illuminating our way. The beach was peaceful, calm. The lazy waves shimmered in the moonlight. A soft breeze tousled my hair.

We walked hand in hand for several steps before Nicholas stopped and faced me. His jaw was set and his eyes were piercing.

“What is it?” I asked nervously.

“I’ve not had my fill of you yet, Tessa. Please, just stand still and let me look at you.”

His fingertips touched my face, traced the bow of my lips, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He tucked my hair behind my ear, his fingers wandering from the hollow behind my ear down the length of my neck. My breathing grew shallow. I was dizzy with delight. His fingers trailed down the length of my arm, sending a waterfall of chills down my spine. Burning and chills. Fire and ice.

Leaning to whisper in my ear, Nicholas said softly, “Don’t move.” His lips grazed my earlobe, then traced the line of my jaw, his hands circling my waist. Though I tried not to move, to be perfectly still as he requested, I couldn’t help but tilt my head back, welcoming his kiss. I drew an unsteady breath that I hoped was masked by the sound of the waves.

He pulled my hand to his mouth where he tenderly kissed each of my fingertips, my palm, the inside of my wrist. He gently placed my arm back by my side and stood back, crossed his arms and looked at me from head to toe.

“Are you quite done?” I joked, though I was so breathless that I feared it sounded like a reprimand.

“Yes,” he answered cockily. I longed for a different answer.

Not knowing how to react, I resumed our leisurely walk, keeping my eyes down. Nicholas matched my pace.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I was just thinking that I came here to save you, but you didn’t really need any rescuing.”

“Are you mad? I’ve been dying to get off this island!”

“I can’t believe how well you’ve managed. You found land.
Inhabited
land. You found food. You weathered storms. You got a job and have a place to stay and food to eat. Really, what do you need me for?”

“Well, maybe I do not need to be
rescued
because I am already safe and cared for, but I still need to get off this damn island!”

Nicholas gave a deep belly laugh. “This
damn
island? Never heard you talk like that before. I think these working ladies have influenced you!”

“Then take me away!” I threw my arms up and twirled. “Though I don’t really know where to go.”

Taking my hand and looking at me shyly, Nicholas said, “I have never seen London.”

There was vulnerability in his reply. Knowing how assured and brazen he always had been, seeing his heart unguarded touched me. He was asking me to rescue him.

“London? Really?” I cried, amazed at his implication. He was declaring himself, willing to make a life with me.

He grinned wildly, obviously pleased by my reaction.

The dreamlike image of a caged Nicholas flashed through my mind. “Oh no,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?”

I tried to get my thoughts straight. “The thought of you coming to London with me is exhilarating, but in all honesty, I don’t think it would suit you.”

His smile faded into an unreadable expression, though he matched my steady pace down the beach.

He thought I was rejecting him. Babbling, I tried to explain myself better, “It’s not that I wouldn’t like you to come to London. It’s just that, I can’t really imagine you
enjoying
London.”

His tension eased. “Aye, I know it will be different. But it will be an adventure.”

I said nothing. Things might be not be as bad as I imagined. I was not
that
girl anymore, that admiral’s daughter, so it might be different.

“Isn’t London what you wanted?” Nicholas asked after a moment.

The waves washed farther onto the sand. I gracefully sidestepped the encroaching tide to avoid getting wet.

“It makes the most sense for me to go back to London.”

Nicholas looked at me carefully, trying to see what I would not say.

“Familiar places, familiar people. An easier place to start over. It makes the most sense,” I repeated weakly.

He searched my face. “Is it what you want?”

I wasn’t entirely sure. “I don’t know. Is there somewhere else, here in the Caribbean we could go?”

The smile was back.

“No, probably not,” he said still grinning.

I stared at him blankly. Was this a joke?

He laughed loudly at the confused look on my face. “See, Tessa, I’m a pirate. Or at least I
was
a pirate. And while you might be ever so forgiving in seeing past my rowdy youth, most local lawmen aren’t so magnanimous. There’s not a respectable island in the Spanish Main that doesn’t have a price on my head.”

I pursed my lips slightly, staring at the way the sand squished between my bare toes with each step. Dozens of crabs darted this way and that, giving the illusion of shifting sands.

He tilted his head down, trying to look at my face. “Tessa?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“Tell me what you are thinking.”

“Just thinking about you. And me.” I blushed at my boldness, glad for the camouflage of night.

“And what are those thoughts?”

“Just that in a way, we are both very much alone in this world. Nowhere to go. No one to belong to.”

“I saved your life, so I think you belong to me,” he teased. He lifted my chin and pressed his lips to mine.

“Fair enough,” I countered back with a smile, “but if I belong to a homeless renegade, where does that leave me?”

He skipped in front of me excitedly, and walked backwards so he could face me as he spoke, “Does it really matter, Tessa? I have that ketch. That is all we need. We’ll go to London. Just the two of us. It will be a fresh start. Whatever you’re afraid of, don’t be. Everything will be fine.”

He stopped walking and took both of my hands in his. His words tumbled out breathlessly. “Look, I don’t know everything. I haven’t got it all figured out yet. I don’t know what you came from, or what you expect. But I think we fit. You and me. Two homeless renegades. Belonging to no one but each other. And, so, we will make our fate as we go. That is all I can promise. But it’s all that I want.”

“Nicholas,” I started, unsure of the pounding heart in my chest, “back in London, I knew everything. I knew my place. I knew the type of person I would marry, what kind of vocation he would have, where I was likely to live. I knew every step I would ever take.”

Nicholas stared at me intently, eager for my response.

I paused for a deep breath then continued. “That all changed when my father died.  It’s been so unsettling not knowing what the future holds. I have nothing. No one. I gave my life up as a lost cause, thinking I would die any moment. Now, it is as though you have given it back to me. And it’s like…it’s like an unopened gift. I don’t know the next move anymore. It is still unsettling, I can’t deny that. But…” Nicholas dropped his head slightly, peering more earnestly into my eyes, “…making our own fate. I like that.” I smiled broadly and confidently repeated my new conviction. “We will make our fate as we go.”

He planted a swift kiss on my lips, then began running down the beach, pulling my hand. “Come see my boat!”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 

 

L
aughing, we ran hand in hand down the moonlit beach, the gentle waves splashing in our wake.

“Why didn’t you anchor in the harbor?” I asked.

“The jollyboat’s there,” he pointed. “That’s where I started my search. Besides, she’s small enough that she moors just fine in shallow waters. Look at her. Isn’t she great?” Nicholas was beaming.

We splashed through the tide and climbed the jack ladder up the side of the ship to the deck. Nicholas bounded across the ship’s waist, throwing his arms wide in presentation.

Still catching my breath I managed to gasp, “It’s wonderful.”

A single deck stretched the entire length and width of the ketch. Though it was easy to see that the vessel was old and worn, it was well taken care of. The boards of the deck were scoured clean with tar tightly sealing every seam. It looked as though it had once been painted black, but it was faded to a charcoal grey. Two masts stretched from the deck. The canvas sails had been patched in several places. I fingered the massive spokes of the ship’s wheel, located towards the aft of the vessel. I imagined the days ahead, Nicholas—or possibly even myself—at the helm, the endless turquoise seas, gulls crying overhead with a hearty ocean wind filling the sails.

Nicholas opened a hatch in the deck and climbed down a ladder. I followed without bidding. I squinted into the darkness, trying to make out my surroundings. The ladder led into an opening that extended the width of the ketch—a foyer of sorts. I could barely stand erect without grazing my head on the low ceiling. Nicholas had to hunch to navigate the room.

A glassed-in porthole on either side let the bright moonlight in. A large, square, wooden table was bolted to the floor. Nicholas opened the two doors on the forward side of the foyer. The starboard door revealed a roomy galley with a small, iron stove, mismatched cupboards, and crates that served as chairs. The portside door concealed a small cabin full of crates and barrels.

Two doors similarly graced the aft side of the wide foyer, opening into two spacious cabins. Aside from the furniture secured to the walls and floor—a chest of drawers, and a desk—one cabin was entirely bare, though three portholes made it very welcoming. The other cabin was obviously Nicholas’s quarters. Though identical to the room next door, it was fully furnished. I was surprised to see a four-poster bed piled with blankets and pillows. A plush, though tattered, armchair sat in the corner. Wrought-iron sconces dotted the walls.

“This is beautiful,” I breathed.

Nicholas beamed as he grabbed an armful of pillows and blankets off the bed, then hurried up the ladder to the deck. His energy was contagious and I found myself following his every move with laughter and excitement.

“Here,” he said, picking a spot on the deck and tossing the bedding down. “Perfect for stargazing.” He plopped onto the pillows and gestured for me to join him.

I nestled into the comfortable pile and Nicholas wrapped an arm around me, tucking a soft blanket under my chin. I laid my head on his chest.

“What a clear night,” I murmured staring at the gilded sky.

He absentmindedly stroked my hair. “Mmm,” he agreed.

“So many stars.”

It felt so natural lying in his arms. My heart beat placidly, my breathing easy. It felt like home.

“Sometimes when I look at the stars, I think of my mother.”

“How old were you when she passed?”

“It happened when I was born. I never knew her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Some people say that it was better that way—that I wasn’t old enough to remember her or miss her. But in some ways it is harder. Maybe I do not know exactly what I miss about her, but I still do. And there aren’t any memories to help fill that void of what she would have been to me.”

“You know, many cultures believe that the stars represent those who have passed on,” said Nicholas. “A sky full of angels. It seems to me you’ve done the same. What a beautiful way to memorialize her.”

“I like that.”

I was captivated by the beauty of the million twinkling lights above. It seemed so wrong that just a few nights ago I found the stars cold and harsh. I felt sorry for that thought and somehow wanted to apologize to the stars above for thinking such a thing. “There is nothing more beautiful than the stars at sea.”

“I can think of one,” Nicholas whispered, pulling me closer.

I snuggled even deeper into his side, sighing with happiness.

“I have always heard that sailors use the stars.”

“Most definitely.”

“How?”

He pointed out a constellation—a bowed line of stars. “Do you see those stars?”

I shifted until my face was right next to his so I could see where he pointed. Our closeness made my heart flutter. Trying to concentrate, I followed the line his finger made. “Yes.”

“And then here,” he traced a square at the end of the line of stars.

I nodded.

“That is the starry plow, though others call it by different names—the Butcher’s Cleaver, Churl’s Wagon, the Great Cart. The Dutch call it the
steelpannetje
—the saucepan. It is part of the Ursa Major constellation.”

“I see it!” I said happily, seeing the shape of the seven bright stars. “But I have to say it looks more like a saucepan than a plow.”

“Look here, where the two stars form the edge of the plow—or the edge of the pan, if you will.”

I nodded.

“Follow the line those stars make,” he drew an imaginary line along edge of the pan to a brilliant star blazing in the sky, “and then you find Polaris.”

“The North Star.”

“Aye. The most important star in the sky to any sailor.” He adjusted slightly so he could look at me. I continued to stare at the sky. I worried that if I took my eyes off the constellation, I wouldn’t find it again. More than that, I was afraid that if I looked at Nicholas, every coherent thought would fall out of my brain, and I was enjoying this moment far too much for that.

“Why?”

“It never moves; it is always directly north. Helps any navigator determine their latitude—how far north or south they are. Explorers have used it for centuries. Anyone can set a course by that star—it never fails. I’ve always thought of her as my angel in the night. Keeping me on my course, never letting me down.”

I nestled closer, laying my head back on his chest. Nicholas cradled me there against his heart, tucked securely under his chin.  I could feel the soft rumble of his speech and the steady thrum of his heart. It was a comforting feeling. Staring at the North Star, in the warmth of his arms, I thought of the moment I met Nicholas and all that transpired since. I remembered the many times Nicholas had been there for me, never letting me down, even when I doubted him.
My
angel in the night. And though I couldn’t know what would happen tomorrow—if I would be dining extravagantly or choking down hardtack—I did know that I could set my course by him. He would be my North Star.

With the countless stars glittering around us, I felt as if we were the only two people in the universe. We talked late into the night, sharing secrets, telling jokes, watching as the swollen moon glided across the sky. I didn’t want the moment to end. But I realized that when we set sail, my dream would come true—every night would be like this. We really would be the only two people in the universe. This moment would last forever.

BOOK: Oceanswept
13.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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