RUMOR WAS THEY no longer headed to Philadelphia.
“I was hoping to be celebrating the New Year with my feet on the ground, American soil, as it were,” one of the passengers grumbled as he paced.
“It wouldn’t be so bad, not if we knew what the trouble was,” another answered.
David lay in his bunk, his arm over his eyes, trying to lose himself in sleep. The not knowing, aye, that was always the hard part. But he’d heard it over and over again these last two days. Each time it only served to set his nerves further on edge.
He didn’t trust himself to be civil during yet another conversation of useless speculation or another game of cards or dice. So he’d retreated to the solitude of sleep early last night and did his best to keep up the illusion well into the day. Better that than risk making things worse by alienating a friend.
He missed seeing something other than this blasted hold. He missed his freedom to move about.
But most of all he missed seeing Elisabeth. He’d counted on the chance to talk to her again before they parted. She was in his thoughts constantly; he needed to resolve it. Somehow.
“DAVID, UP WITH YE, the Cap’n’s here.” Liam shoved at David’s shoulder.
“I trust you would like further information of our voyage. Gather round so I don’t have to be repeating myself.” Honeywell’s loud, booming voice filled the hold.
Instantly all were quiet and moved to the forefront. David jumped off his bunk, following Liam.
“We’ve been advised the Delaware is full of ice, and we won’t make it past the Capes. Several ships have been anchored outside the Capes for weeks, without movement and with little shelter. Not only will it put us at undue risk to follow suit, it will sorely test our store of provisions. Therefore, we’re heading to Charlestown to reprovision. We’ll make sail for Philadelphia again when the weather clears.”
The Captain ignored the groans and questions, continuing with his announcement. “This being New Year’s Eve . . . Hogmanay,” he said with a nod to the Scots. “I’ve allowed for the distribution of a quantity of rum from my private store. Should this be deemed insufficient later in the evening, the purser has been instructed that a certain quantity shall also be available for purchase.”
He paused briefly as the noise in the crowd altered to grunts of appreciation, and his eyes searched out David and Liam.
“I’ve also lifted the restriction against the more hardy of you wishing to venture on deck. I believe the danger of encountering ice has passed for the time being. Be advised we should reach Charlestown within the week.”
Cheers rose as the Captain ascended. David and Liam tore up the aft ladder and immediately encountered Mr. Ritcher.
“Mr. Brock, Mr. Graham, ’bout time ye lads came up from yer napping. See Mannus over there and make yourselves useful. I ain’t got no use for idle hands on my deck.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
Alex talked nonstop, and the afternoon passed in a blur, punctuated only by the freezing downpour they worked through the last half hour.
“We’ve had the luxury of a bath for the New Year, eh, Davey?” Liam said when they finally sat, choosing a spot somewhat sheltered from the wind. Even so, it didn’t take long for the chill to set in once they were idle.
“Hmmph,” David said, shivering. “Did ye check the barrel, Liam?”
“I did. Maybe enough for a cup, no more.”
They had taken the top off a used barrel and set it out during storms, hoping to collect rainwater to supplement their tiny water ration. The first couple of times they had set it under the mizzenmast, but found the water collected there tasted of tar. And that was only if the barrel didn’t get kicked away by one of the crew climbing the mast. Now they had fixed it in a more open spot, forgoing the benefit of runoff, settling for a meager amount that at least tasted somewhat pure.
“Mayhap it’ll keep raining awhile. We’ll likely want it tomorrow, after rum. Let’s get dry,” David said. “What d’ye think my chances are of retrieving Lisbeth from her cabin?”
“Oh? The lass is back on your mind?”
David ignored the taunt. He knew darn well the lass was on his mind. He never lost an opportunity to point out any number of God-fearing actions taken by the Irish-Catholics they bunked with. Same God, right? Right.
Liam turned to him once they had climbed back down into the hold. “No’ good, Davey. Maybe I can, I’ll think of something to do with the wee ones that involves her help. Get me after ye change. And hurry, looks like we’re behind. Rum’s been flowing for awhile now.”
He hurried. He was colder than cold. Felt good though, once he changed into something dry. The exercise, the fresh air—he felt better than he had in days. He scanned the crowd, searching for Liam. His uncle caught his eye and beckoned him forward.
ELISABETH MADE HER ESCAPE as soon as her father joined the Captain for a drink, asking the widow Reid if she’d mind telling her father she was spending the evening with friends. She’d suspected Mrs. Reid would be only too happy to do so, and she was right. The forced confinement had strained all their nerves.
She wanted a chance to thank Mr. Oliver, in the event she didn’t see him again; a chance as well to say goodbye to Annie. And Liam and Sean and Rob. She had even steeled herself against the possibility of seeing David with Sarah. It was New Year’s Eve, after all, a time to be with those special to you. She thought she might manage a credible goodbye to the both of them, if she left it until last, right before she made her escape back to her cabin.
The hold was noisy and chaotic, though nothing like the Christmas celebration of last week. These were loud, hard drinking men, the women blending unnoticed into the background. For the first time, she didn’t feel comfortable being there. She hesitated.
“Miss Hale! Don’t be leaving yet! Your friends will be so disappointed to have missed you. Come with me.” It was Mrs. Andrews, the woman with the burns, the one who cooked for David and the Reverend. She let her take her hand and lead her to the midsection where she and her son bunked.
“Don’t worry, love. They’re just letting off some steam. Your lad’s no’ been joining in. Here, have some. Welcome in the New Year.” She handed her a small cup of warm spiced wine.
Elisabeth sipped it. “It’s good, Mrs. Andrews. It’s not what they’re drinking, though, is it?” Taking another small sip, she nodded toward the bowls lined up and down the centers of the tables.
“No, lass,” Mrs. Andrews answered, laughing. “That would be the captain’s rum. This is just a wee bit of wine. Mrs. Drecker fixed it up. One of her family secrets she claims it is. I aim to have your David write it out for me. I watched her make the second batch, so as I’d know what’s in it. I’ve taken quite a liking to it.”
‘Her David.’ She liked the sound of that, but he hadn’t been her David since his recovery from the near drowning, if even then.
And there he was. Seeing her, he grinned, pushing his way toward her. That grin; my word, those dimples would be the undoing of her yet, if she didn’t soon develop some backbone. She raised the cup for another sip, finding it empty. Laughing, she handed it back to Mrs. Andrews. That certainly wasn’t the route to more backbone.
“It’s too good, I’m afraid, I didn’t mean to gulp it down. Thank you, ma’am. I’ll have to ask David to write out the receipt for me as well.”
She moved through the crowd to meet him, declining a cup of the grog when offered. “I’d better not, sir,” she said, laughing. “Faith, I’ll have a difficult time enough holding to my senses after the wine.” One of the men shouted something to the effect that the “lad shouldna be minding that a bit” and was hushed quickly by the others. She decided not to take offense, waving him off with a small smile.
David came up beside her and took her elbow. Surprised, she searched his face. Maybe he had been joining in with the men and their toasts. Because he hadn’t touched her since that first and last kiss a month ago.
She’d thought
often of that kiss. He had done a much better job of kissing than—well, she couldn’t seem to recall his name now, and never mind, he wasn’t important. But David’s kiss had been special, she knew it had. Why hadn’t he sensed it as well? Why hadn’t he wanted to kiss her again? Why had he preferred Sarah?
Well, now’s now, that was then. She smiled at him, then remembered her promise to herself. She struggled to keep her expression neutral.
Had Mrs. Andrews actually said the wine was not as strong as the rum?
He grinned. “It’s good to see ye, lass. I’ve missed you.”
“Elisabeth! Top of the evening to you!” called Seamus. “We need ye to fill in for Annie a song or two. She says she’s busy. Can you do it, lass?” Some of the passengers were clearing away a small area for dancing. Seamus and Ewan were standing by with their fiddle and flute.
“Go ahead if ye’d like, Lisbeth. I need to see what Uncle John requires of me. I’ll be back to fetch ye shortly, if ye don’t mind. I’d like to visit with ye,” David said, nodding to Seamus and Ewan. “Please?”
Her spirit soared before she stamped on it firmly.
“Very well, David, just for a few minutes.”
Thankfully the crowd was lively and easy to please, because her heart wasn’t in it as she sang. She needed to say her goodbyes, tell Mr. Oliver about Charlestown. When Annie relieved her, she moved back through the hold, searching for him.
Maybe he’d gone up for a bit of air. She’d try the deck. Reverend Wilson called out to her just as she reached the ladder.
“I thought I’d get a breath of fresh air,” she told him. “And I needed to speak to Mr. Oliver.”
“I think it best if you don’t go on deck alone tonight, Elisabeth,” the Reverend said. “The Captain allowed the crew some rum as it’s Hogmanay. The judgment of some will be lacking.”
“Well, all right,” she said, glancing toward the ladder doubtfully. She’d never felt unsafe with the crew before. As she looked, she saw Sarah descend, followed by Liam, then by David.
Gracious, what that girl was wearing; she’d catch her death of cold unwrapped like that up on deck. She had the urge to take off her own cloak and throw it over her.
Sarah, seeing her watching, came to her, thrusting her chest out, giving her a small, smug smile. “You be slumming tonight, Miss Hale and Mighty?” She glanced back over her shoulder at David, then leaned in, placing her hand on Elisabeth’s arm. Elisabeth struggled not to back away from her touch, tried not to cringe at the overwhelming smell of alcohol as she leaned in close to whisper, “Well now, don’t you be tossing yer high and mighty little head, taking yer temper out on our David. He’s got more than enough to share, see. And I’m not one minds sharing.” She laughed, stopping short at a hiccup, then wandered away without waiting for an answer.
Elisabeth staggered back half a step, her hand going to her mouth, then to her chest as she fought to catch her breath. Why, that . . .
David could bury himself in that tart’s bosom, if he was so enamored of it. She glanced down quickly to assure herself her own lace scarf was arranged modestly about her neckline. Why, it was a wonder Sarah’s stay could even contain her bosoms, though granted it only contained them by a mere fraction. Mama would turn over in her grave should she even consider wearing something so revealing for everyday wear.
She’d write Mr. Oliver to say goodbye, once they were in Philadelphia. Or maybe she wouldn’t.
And David could just wonder about her whereabouts, as she no longer cared to tell him. To tell any of them.
Rabble, indeed.
She tightened her mouth and turned back to Wilson. “Reverend, would you accompany me then? I feel a headache—” Lord Almighty, him too. Reverend Wilson was walking away, Sarah under his arm.
HE’D SEEN HER AS soon as he stepped beneath the hatch, had seen the stricken look on her face. Torn between slapping Sarah and soothing Elisabeth, he chose the latter. Not that he’d slap Sarah anyway, no matter how sorely he’d been tempted.
“Lisbeth, please don’t go,” David said quietly, coming up behind her. “Come, sit with me a bit. I’ll show ye a trick my ma uses for headaches. If it doesn’t work quickly, I’ll take you back to your cabin. Or Uncle John will, if ye’d prefer.” He didn’t allow her the opportunity to refuse; she’d take it in a heartbeat.
“Get your hands off me,” she said, pulling away.
“A minute, Bess.” He half-carried her to an empty berth away from the others.
“So help me, I’ll scream,” she said, hissing through clenched teeth, struggling as he held her tight.
He was out of time. Releasing her, he stepped in front of her, blocking her passage, dropping to a knee. He brought his hands to hers, taking care to keep his touch light. “Please, lass. Please.”
She darted a glance around. “Get up, you fool.”
“There’s nothing between us, Sarah and me. Ne’er has been. Nothing but friendship.”
“Get up! Are you so intent on making a spectacle of yourself?”
No, he wasn’t. But he’d checked before he gone to his knee, no one was looking, not yet. The hold was wild tonight, more than enough to look at elsewhere.
“Get up!” She kicked him, her small foot slamming into him. It caught him off guard; he fell on his backside.
“Oh!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my word. I’m so sorry, David, are you all right? I didn’t mean to—I’m so sorry.” She stooped down to offer him a hand.
“I’m fine, ‘specially knowing ye care!” He grinned, taking her hand, debating whether to pull her down into his lap and kiss her—get done with all this talk. “Will ye give me a chance to speak, ‘fore ye leave? Will ye listen?”
She stepped back, withdrawing her hand, folding her arms across her chest as she looked away, making a show of tapping her foot. “Do hurry, please.”
He laughed and stood, scooping her up before she could think, settling her between his knees on the berth, back against his chest.
“A minute, Bess, only a minute, please. Close your eyes.” He brought his fingers to her temples, applying pressure. “Uncle John sent me up there to fetch her. He’d seen her drinking more than a few servings of the grog, ken?” He tightened his legs about her, holding her still as she struggled to rise.
“Uncle John worries over her. He thinks her da doesn’t. I asked Liam to accompany me, seeing as she can be difficult.” He felt her relax just a fraction.
“She was playing free and loose with several of the crew. Liam talked her way free and we brought her back. Ungrateful lass; she’ll probably head back up there within the hour if her da doesn’t start paying some mind to her whereabouts. I’m no’ sure who told ye what about Sarah and me, but they were wrong, lass. They were wrong.” He paused as he felt her settle against him, his fingers now gently massaging circles on the sides of her forehead. “Are ye still mad?”
She sighed. “No, not even at her, I suppose. But don’t stop doing that.”
He chuckled. “For just a bit longer, I don’t want ye falling asleep. I’m hoping ye’ll stay for a long while yet.”
“Why are you touching me all of a sudden?”
His fingers stilled for a moment, then resumed. He didn’t pretend not to understand her.
“Noticed that, did ye? Truth be, I . . . I don’t know, Elisabeth. I guess I’m just tiring of the effort it took no’ to.”
“What?” She pulled away and looked back at him, her mouth open.
He shrugged, having no better explanation. He liked having her near; it was as simple, or as complicated, as that.
“Is it all right with ye then? If I touch ye?”
He watched as the muscles jumped about in her face, finally settling into a smile that reached her eyes.
“Yes, I expect it’s all right.”
She settled back and he held her, sheltering her with his body as his thumb stroked the back of her hand, soothing her.
She felt right, and for now he was d
one questioning it.
Just as she was starting to doze off, he prodded her awake.
“Victuals are out, Lisbeth. I’m famished, come. Rob and Liam have saved us a spot.”
They spent a companionable hour eating, talking and laughing, and at the end of the meal she rose from the table to help the women clear.
“Mrs. Andrews told ye to stay seated. Ye’re a guest.” He straddled the bench and pulled her down, back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. “I know ye’ve got to get back to your father soon, but I’m not ready to be handing ye over just yet. Can ye stay a wee bit longer?”
“Actually Mrs. Reid seemed anxious to have me out for the evening. I don’t think I’ll be missed for some time.”
“Do ye mind? Her taking him over like that?”
“To some extent, yes, of course. But I admit it makes me feel better about spending time away from him, and I do want him to be happy. It’s just that I don’t think she’ll be the one who makes him happy. She’s far too different from my mother.”
“But mayhap she can help him move past your mother, and that will be a step forward, aye?”
She grasped his hand and nodded. “Is it hard for you, being away from your family on a celebration like this?”
“No’ with you here. Besides, I think the worst of missing them has passed. Time and distance softens that. I know it doesn’t ache to be thinking of them now.”
“That sentiment will give me something to ponder when the ship arrives in Philadelphia,” she said quietly.
She stiffened in his arms and he saw her blush; she hadn’t meant to say it then.
“Look at Liam. I believe he’s sparking Hilde. Why, I don’t think he knows much more German than I do.”
“He’ll manage, don’t be doubting that.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she said as the girl leaned into Liam, whispering something.
“Let me up to help the women, David, I don’t feel right just sitting here.”
“David! There you are. Paul and me wanna try that trick again. I got the cards; can you show us one more time?” Sean asked. “Hey, Lisbeth.”
“Hello, Sean, Paul. What trick does David know?”
“He’ll teach you, too, won’t ye, David?”
David reluctantly released Elisabeth and turned back toward the table, taking the cards from Sean. “Elisabeth is leaving for just a bit. Right then, all eyes watching closely now, aye?”
He spent the next hour putting the boys, and Elisabeth, once she returned, into fits of giggles as they tried to replicate his tricks and failed each time. “All right, lads, that’s enough for tonight. I need to escort Elisabeth to a dance ‘fore she has to leave. It’s getting late. I should tuck ye in ‘fore I go, aye?”
“Nooo!” the boys cried as they ran off into the crowd.
David stood and took Elisabeth’s hand, leading her to the music. “Come, Lisbeth, dance with me. We’ve a bit of the evening left.”
MUCH LATER, winded and warm, they stepped away from the other dancers. David filled a cup full of the grog and led her to an empty spot on the bench in front of his berth.
“Will this go on all night, David? No one shows any signs of slowing. It must be getting close to midnight.” She took a large swallow of the drink. “This is good. It tastes of lime. I’ve never had it before.”
“It’ll continue through Ne'erday if the whisky flows long enough. Or rum, as the case may be. Provisions being light, mayhap only until first light. We don’t commemorate Christmas with the same gaiety the English do. This is our annual celebration. If I were at home, I’d have a gift for ye.” He pulled her back to rest against his chest and bent to kiss the top of her head. “I’m grateful to have you with me this night. It bodes well for the new year.”
How fast things change. Not more than twelve hours ago he lay in this room feeling bad-tempered and sorry for himself, through no one’s fault but his own. He reached for the cup, finding it empty. He laughed. “Thirsty were ye then, lass?” The man seated across reached out his hand to take it, refilling it from the large bowl on the table. David nodded his thanks.
Elisabeth squirmed until she was resting closer yet. He tensed, then relaxed as she stilled. She grabbed one of his hands, idly stroking it as she talked about the last few days she’d spent in the cabin, eventually coming around to the subject that had brought her between-decks.
“And my father thinks we’d be better off in Charlestown and arranging alternate transportation. So I may be leaving the ship within the next few days if that’s the case. I wanted to let you know, and Mr. Oliver of course. That’s why I ventured here tonight.” She turned her head to see if he was listening to her, as he hadn’t responded. “Did you hear me, David?”
“Aye,” he said, tightening his hold.
He struggled with the thoughts running through his head. He couldn’t come out and say he thought her father inadequate to keep her safe on the journey from Charlestown to Philadelphia. For one thing, he knew nothing of her father’s adequacies or inadequacies. He had to assume the man had been taking care of her all her life. But he wanted to be there as well, just in case. Hale was still feeling the loss of his wife. It was bound to dull his judgment, maybe even his survival instinct, and travel was dangerous. Always had been. He chose his words carefully.
“I didn’t think to be losing you so quick. Ye just set me back a bit, lass. Come, let’s watch the coming of the New Year from above.” He stood, pulling her up. The cup was empty again. He looked at her face closely, hell to pay if he got her lushey. Grabbing the blanket from his berth, he led her up the ladder.
“David, top of the evening to you, bucko! Ye brought someone to keep ye warm this night, eh?” one of the sailors called out.
Elisabeth giggled softly. Giggled? Elisabeth? David swore under his breath. “Nay, Mr. Parker, just up for a bit of fresh air ‘fore the night ends.”
“To be sure. I was young once, too. Don’t be forgetting it, laddie.”
The crew hooted and another chimed in, “I can lend ye a hand if ye need help finding yer way in the dark with the lassie, Davey!”
“Thank ye for the kind thoughts, Mr. Todd, but I believe I’ll manage!”
“Aye, well, the boats be occupied, mind ye!” The sailors all laughed as he guided Elisabeth away.
“Sorry, Lisbeth.”
“I don’t mind. They didn’t mean any harm. What did he mean about the boats?”
“The ship’s boats. They afford a bit of privacy, being up and stowed.”
“Ahh . . .”
“I’ve never used them, Elisabeth.”
“I know.”
“Aye, well . . . right then.” How did she know that?
“Liam once explained your inclination to avoid confined, close places when I had asked him why I could usually find you on deck. I believe he phrased it, ‘Davey doesna care for snug spots, lass’.”
He snorted at her mimicry. The night was dark, there being just a bit of a moon. The weather had cleared, not a cloud in the sky and the stars sprinkled light across the sea. It was bitter cold. He’d been planning to keep her warm huddled together under a blanket as they sat on deck, but that was harder now with the audience they had. He led her to the opposite side of the ship.
“It’s deserted over here, isn’t it?” Elisabeth said softly,
“Aye, it is, being as it’s in full view of the captain, should he be coming out for air himself,” David said. “Let’s sit over here. It offers some shelter.” He guided her down and sat behind her, pulling her back between his knees with the blanket covering the both of them, his arms holding her tight.
“Will ye be warm enough?”
“Oh yes, I’ll probably be the warmest person on this ship. Tell me what’s wrong, David.”
“The talk I heard from the crew today. Ships have been lost, waiting to travel up the Delaware these past weeks. Many have died. I believe the Captain’s right to travel south to wait it out. It wo
rries me, not knowing your whereabouts, if you’ll be safe.” He decided it best not to voice any concerns he might have over her father’s capabilities.
“Really?” she asked, turning briefly to see his face. “That surprises me, I must admit. I’m sure everything will be all right. Papa’s not concerned.”
He tightened his arms around her. “I’m sure ye’re right. Talk to me of anything, lass, I’ve been missing hearing the sound of your voice.”
His thoughts wandered as he looked out over the sea, soothed by the soft sound of her voice and the feel of her close. He knew he would always remember the start to this new year, this ship, this lass in his arms. A couple was leaving the boats, making a bit of a ruckus climbing out, and he turned his head toward the sound. Well, now, what do you know about that. The Fergusons. Ol’ Mr. Ferguson had to be pushing forty. And still catting about—with his wife, no less. Huh. Wait til he told Liam.
The crew began to make more noise, and he suspected someone had determined it was midnight, or close enough to it. He turned Elisabeth so that her side was against him, so he could see her face.
“You’re done listening I take it?” she asked.
“Aye,” he whispered.
“I think you should kiss me, then. No, I take that back, I’m finished with thinking, I think too much, I think. I should just not think at all sometimes. Lots of people don’t, you know, think before—”
He chuckled, lowering his mouth to hers, kissing her. Softly, tentatively, at first, then deepening the kiss as her response assured him more was welcome. Good God, she was magic. The time he had wasted . . . it hadn’t been the knock to his head at all; it was her, only her. His arms pulled her closer.
She ran her hands down his jacket, bringing them up under his shirt to run up and down his back.
He’d thought he’d been roused when Sarah had placed her hand on his leg, inching it ever so slightly up his thigh. He hadn’t known the meaning of the word. Nothing compared to the feel of Lisbeth’s small soft hands on his skin. Every nerve in his body from head to toes was standing at attention. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and he felt her nails as she clung to him.
He’d never claimed to be a saint. Da knew that well enough, which was why he was on this ship sailing to America instead of sitting in a classroom preparing for the clergy like Ma wanted. What’s more, he’d never once said he didn’t like snug places, didn’t know why Liam’d say a thing such as that. He reached under her and picked her up, standing with her in his arms, never once letting loose of her mouth. She made a small mewing sound and pulled him closer.
Sweet, she was so sweet. He could taste the rum on her tongue. The rum . . .
She was lushey. Damn it all to hell and back. Not taking her to the boats, not. He wasn’t a saint, but he wasn’t a cad either. He set her down.
“Ah, Bess,” he said, pulling his mouth away, still cradling her close, “ye are a wonder to me. I don’t understand the power you have over me. It unnerves me more than a little, I’ll admit, lass.”
She pulled back and looked at him, taking her hands up to the nape of his neck. “Rest assured I won’t abuse it, David. But I may need help believing it now and then. You’re aware you hide it well?”
Well, he surely hoped so. He grunted and pulled away, leading her to the ladder.
“Come, let’s celebrate the rest of Hogmanay with the others while there’s still time. A wee bit of tea will warm ye right up. The crew still has a fire lit. Knowing Mrs. Andrews, she’ll have some tea ready.”
“I’m not cold. And I don’t want tea.” She pulled back. “Are you afraid to be alone with me?”
He grinned. “You’re a canny lass, I’ll give ye that. I’ve other reasons as well. Want to hear?”
“I might as well.” She crossed her arms and stood her ground. “Maybe there’s a small chance my dreams of a big, strong, braw lad won’t be soured with the knowledge he’s frightened of a girl little more than half his size.”
“Ye’ll be dreaming of me then, aye?” he asked, chuckling when she shook off his grasp and turned to walk back toward the companionway that led to her cabin.
“C’mere, Bess,” he said, grabbing her. “The Captain will be coming up for a smoke anytime now and sure to send ye back to your father when he sees you.” And send him to the bottom of the sea soon as he notices she’s lushey.
“I don’t want ye to go yet. Smell the rain in the air? There’s a fair chance we could be in for another spell of weather and confined to quarters. I may not see ye again, I’ll no’ willingly have the little time I can be sure of cut short if there’s chance of avoiding it.”
“What do you mean, you won’t see me again?” she said, her voice breaking and her eyes filling.
“I’ll see ye again, I just meant to say no’ as often as I’d like,” he said hastily. He drew her close once more and bent to kiss her. She turned away.
“Don’t. I think I should be angry with you.”
Undaunted, he brushed her hair aside and kissed the side of her neck just below her ear. He felt her shiver. No, she wasn’t angry.
“Well, I’d like some tea. Perhaps ye’d consider joining me, lass?” He offered her his elbow.
She ignored it and climbed down the ladder, turning to tell him, “Mrs. Andrews has a receipt we’d like you to copy out. She and I can make it and test it. You will sit and write it.”
17
January 1784