Page 82 of The Sea Child
“If you like. We can go anywhere. With these papers, we can pull into any port. Where would you like to go?”
“Anywhere, with you.”
He smiles and kisses her. She says, “How is your head?”
“Fine, too.” He casts a glance at the skylight. “I have some money left from the sale of the horses and there are the kegs of brandy we stored on the seabed when theSwallowgave chase, which I mean to retrieve. With that I can pay the crew, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to get hold of the profits from our most recent run.” He kisses her again. “You don’t mind being a bit poor for a while longer, do you? It’ll be like starting over from scratch.”
“That’s not so bad, is it? It’s what I did when I came to Cornwall.”
He laughs. “And look where it got you. You have a day to make up your mind as to our destination. For now we can ride the northeasterly.”
“You’d truly let me choose?” She thinks of all the placesLa Pérousedescribed in his book. But perhaps they should go to France before they go anywhere else, she thinks. Perhaps she’ll be able to learn more about the Du Pont family and the story Lucie Cuvelier told in her letter. In time, she’ll tell it to Jack, she thinks. For now, the memories are hers alone.
“You’ve more than earned the privilege.” Jack lifts her left hand to his mouth, not touching the cut, and lightly kisses her fingertips. “Isabel,” he says in the same wondering tone as when she first found him imprisoned on board the frigate.
The deck rolls under them as the ship pulls out of the cove. “You should be on deck,” she says. “And I should like to be, to see us get under way.”
“As long as I get to hold you,” he says.
Back on deck they stand in the stern of the ship, Jack’s arms wrapped around her waist, his chin in her hair. “Do you forgive me?” he says.
“For what happened with Lieutenant Sowerby? Yes.”
“For getting you involved in all of this. You said you didn’t want any trouble.”
She smiles. “I don’t mind it so much now.”
“You called me your fiancé to Sowerby. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Did you mean it?”
“I did. I should like to marry you, Jack, only let me have my freedom a little longer. Until then, may we not love each other as we are now?”
“As a man and a woman, you mean, rather than a man and his wife?”
“Yes. If you don’t find that strange.”
“I don’t see why not,” he says, kissing her hair. She hears the smile in his voice. “Listen. I’ve told you before, but I’ll make it a vow. I won’t curb your freedom when we wed.”
“I know you won’t.”
“Good. It’s important to me that you know it, Isabel.”
She half turns so she can kiss him, then says, “I wish Will was with us. I hope he’ll be all right.”
“Let’s hope Captain Hamer’s need for men is more pressing than for setting an example, so Will won’t face punishment for the escape attempt. As for him being impressed into the service, it’s not what anyone would want—” He stops himself and says, “Not what most would want, I should say,” and she knows he’s thinking of George, who lived for the navy and died for it. The thought doesn’t cut as much as it used to. Her hand reaches for George’s Trafalgar medal, but she cannot find it. Her fingers trail along her neck. The black ribbon is missing, too. Her heart skips a beat as Jack says, “Will’s a good sailor. If he keeps his head down, he should be fine. Who knows? He may make a career of it.”
“My medal,” she says, feeling under her shirt. “George’s medal.”
“What of it?”
“It’s gone. The ribbon must’ve broken.” She waits for the hurt, the hollow cutting, but it doesn’t come. She continues to feel horribly content.
Jack says, “I’m sorry, Isabel. I know how much it meant to you.”
“It’s fine.” Strangely, it is, more or less, as if with the ribbon breaking, her mooring line has been cut.
Quietly, Jack says, “When I was in the water, I could’ve sworn a mermaid came to me. I saw her. She was beautiful like you, withstreaming hair and eyes like yours and the same mad little freckles you’ve got all over you. She had a tail of silver scales and her breath was like an ocean current. I could’ve sworn she brought me to the surface.”
She feels his breath against her hair. Laughter trickles from her. “You were unconscious,” she says. “How could you have seen her?”
“She was a vision, like you,” Jack says, kissing her again. He tightens his arms around her as if he never wants to let go. Laughing softly, he says, “Did I ever tell you, you’re the most stubborn creature I know? I can’t believe you came and got me off that ship.”
“What can I say?” she says. “I am my father’s daughter.”
“The admiral?” he says.
She smiles and says, “Perhaps.”
She leans back against him, her hands clasping his arms. She doesn’t feel the cuts now. The open sea is dark silver in the light of the moon; the sky is awash with stars. Behind them, Nelly’s Cove fades from sight, then the cliffs, then all of the land, until there is nothing left but this, a small ship on a boundless ocean, a sharp wind in the sails, and his arms, holding her until the night, too, is fading. In the sound of the wind, in the rushing of the waves is a voice calling her.Come home,it says, and she whispers back, so quietly only she can hear,I’m coming.
