Enchanted by Your Kisses (41 page)

She turned, her carriage blocking the view for a moment. Sunlight blinded her, too, for the sun shone on that side of the street; her own side was in shadow. That was why she probably didn't see him at first, though it was obvious that he'd seen her.

Nathan.

Her heart froze. She blinked, wondering if it could be a trick or the light, for it could not possibly be. . .

"Nathan?" she called out.

Another carriage passed between them, but when it moved on, he still stood there looking as wonderful and as handsome as if he had stepped out of her dreams. Wide, muscular shoulders stretched beneath a trim, dark gray jacket. Angular face with intense silver eyes, the scar hardly noticeable in the bright sunlight.

She moved as if in a dream. He didn't come to her. And as she drew nearer, she realized that it wasn't a dream. He was here. Before her. His wonderful silver eyes gazing down at her enigmatically.

"It is you, isn't it?" she asked, coming to stand before him.

"It is."

And the sound of his voice. Never had something sounded so wonderful.

"What are you doing here?"

"I had to come back," he answered, still not moving.

"Why?"

She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

"My brother."

She felt a disappointment so keen, she could barely breathe. But then she reached out. Of its own volition her hand touched his arm. The contact made her breath catch, made her ache in a way that almost hurt. "Has he taken a turn for the worse?"

"No. He is actually doing quite well."

He didn't return her touch. Ariel supposed that would be asking too much. He hated her. He must. Why else would he stand there as if nothing had ever happened between them? She pulled her hand away.

"I am glad to hear that, Nathan. Truly, I feel ashamed at what my countrymen did to him."

He nodded. They both lapsed into silence. A cart laden with hay rumbled by, the horses' harnesses jingling.

"And what of you? What are you doing in
Portsmouth
?" he asked.

She stared up at him, letting him see all the love she felt for him. "I came for you." And suddenly there were tears in her eyes. "I came for you, because I love you, because I couldn't let you think I didn't love you, because today I was to set sail for the colonies."

"Oh, Ariel," he said, pulling her into his arms. "I cannot believe what he said is true."

Ariel closed her eyes, feeling his big arms circle her, knowing she had a future she had only dared to dream of. She felt his breath sigh across her ear. Or was it she who sighed? She didn't know.

"What who said?" she asked.

He pulled back, stared down at her. "My brother. He told me he'd overheard you tell that officer that you loved me."

Wess
had overheard the conversation? She'd thought he'd been unconscious. But did it really matter? "I do love you, Nathan." She placed her hand over his heart, feeling the heat from the sun warm her. People walked by, many of them stared. She didn't care. "I love you with all my heart."

He didn't move. Neither did she.

"My darling Ariel," he said softly staring down at her in wonder, in awe.

She closed her eyes. "Oh, Nathan, Nathan. When I made you leave—"

"
Shh
," he soothed, resting his fingers against her lips. "I understand, Ariel. Truly, I do. I put it all together while we sailed back. Your father forced you to choose, didn't he? Give me up, or I would be taken prisoner again."

She didn't answer, just burrowed deeper into him. Gracious, but she'd missed his smell. Missed the sound of his voice. Missed
him.

"Is that what it was?"

She drew back, looking into silver eyes filled with all the love in the world. It shone from his gaze, warmed her, made her realize that miraculously he wasn't angry with her.

"Aye, Nathan. '
Tis
what he did."

"Bastard," he accused.

"No, Nathan. Do not be angry, for he realized his mistake soon enough. '
Twas
he who helped me get here, my father sacrificing the right to even see his grandchild in order to help me."

"Child?"

"Indeed, for I could be carrying our son right now."

"Our son," he murmured, an odd smile lifting his face. "Our son. Aye, I like the sound of that."

"Me, too," she sighed, tears blurring her vision again. "I like the sound of it, too."

He bent his head toward hers. Their lips met. Neither of them cared that they were in the middle of the pavement, that the people inside the sweet shop stared, some with envy, some in shock. They cared only for each other. And that, Ariel realized a long while later, was all that really mattered.

England
, 1803

Sixteen-year-old Lady Caroline
Trevain
stared at the smooth surface of the lake and contemplated love—a tricky subject at best, she'd oft been told by her mother. Of course, her mother the duchess was something of a legend where love was concerned. '
Twas
said she had been ruined in her younger days, a situation that filled Caroline with an odd sort of envy. There had also been rumors that she'd been kidnapped by her father, but those she dismissed as the ramblings of an old man—her grandfather, the earl of Bettencourt.

But if her mother had been wild in her youth, she was now something of a stick-in-the-mud.

Bother that. She was a veritable tree in the mud, Caroline thought.

She threw a small pebble in the water. It sank with a plop, small, circular ripples that turned to larger ones spreading from where it'd disappeared.

Why her mother was so strict with her when she herself had been wild Caroline would never know. All she wanted to do was go to a party. Just one dance before they left
England
. Just one, that was all she wanted. She sighed, feeling suddenly so melancholy and so upset she could hardly keep from crying.

"What is it, little one?"

She started, surprised to see her father standing over her.

"Good evening, Papa."

He stared down at her, his tan face filled with question, his hair windswept. Hair as black as her own and her mother's. That she looked like her father there could be no doubt, but she had her mother's eyes.

"May I sit?"

She patted the pebbled ground next to her, moving her pink skirts aside. "Of course."

"Well?" he prompted again, tugging at the white shirt he wore.

She almost didn't answer, but they had a special bond, she and her father, one her mother said was as different from her own relationship with her father as a young woman as a rose is from snow.

"I am upset about leaving
England
."

"Upset about leaving, or upset about not seeing Lord Robert one last time?"

She looked over at her father in surprise, her curly black hair bobbing in her face. She swiped it away. "Am I that obvious?"

"As obvious as a boil."

She cringed. "That is a revolting analogy, Papa."

"But true."

She smiled. "Aye."

"So you want to go to the soiree to see Robert again."

"I do, Papa. I really do."

"But there will be other soirees. Other young men to meet."

"But Robert is leaving to fight against the French. This may be my last chance to see him."

"I assure you, my dear, you will see him again."

"But how can you be so sure?"

Her father gave her a smile. "Because at this very moment he is at the house, cooling his heels with your mother in our drawing room."

Caroline shot to her feet. "Oh, Papa, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wasn't supposed to, so when your mother chastises me, you'd best defend me."

She reached down and gave him a hug. Nathan closed his eyes, realizing that he loved his only little girl more than he'd ever thought it was possible to love someone other than his wife. She was exactly like Ariel, and never had a day gone by when he wasn't grateful she'd been born.

"Thank you, Papa," she said with a kiss, turning away to all but run back to the house.

Nathan watched her go, his thoughts traveling through the past to the time when she'd been born, then to before that, to when Colin had been born back in the colonies. That he'd been born a free man was a source of pride for Nathan, the wounds of his past having long since healed, thanks to the love of his very British wife.

"I thank you very much for telling our daughter her true love is here."

Nathan looked up, his wife of twenty years standing over him. She had her hands on her hips, the amber-colored dress she wore nearly the same color as her glittering eyes. That she had lost none of her beauty in the past twenty years there could be no doubt. Men still stared, it seemed to Nathan, even more in recent years than in the past. She still had her thick black hair, but now it had a wide, gray streak on the left side, something she had acquired after the birth of their first son.

"I know you wanted me to tell her exactly that, else you would have dismissed Robbie from the house the moment he arrived."

Her lips pursed. "And how do you know that?"

"Because, my dear, you, like me, would rather she see him in the privacy of our home than at some inn somewhere. You know how dangerous inns can be."

Her eyes narrowed. "'
Tis
not very sporting of you to remind me of my past."

"Ah, but it has been a good past, has it not?"

The teasing glint in her eyes faded. They softened as she sat down next to him, her high-
waisted
dress a pretty contrast to the scenery around them.

"Indeed, it has," she answered. "We may not have wanted to return to
England
when your uncle died, but it has been good for the children. One day this will all belong to Colin, and my father's earldom, too."

"Speaking of which, when is the old battleship supposed to arrive?"

"Tomorrow," she said with a smile.

"Tomorrow? What a sad coincidence. I find I need to go into town tomorrow—"

She hit him on the arm. "You do not."

"No?" he teased.

"No," she answered.

He smiled, losing himself in his thoughts again. "It has been good, hasn't it?" he murmured after a while.

Ariel nodded, smiling up at him. "Aye. And if our children are half as lucky as we, they will find what we have. Still."

A wobbly smile tilted her lips. Nathan was surprised to see tears enter her eyes. He tilted her head up, just as he had a thousand times, just as he would go on doing until the end of their days.