Under the Moon Gate (34 page)

“That’s impressive. How did you learn all that?”

“I know all about Virginia’s James River Plantations,” she said, as she conjured up a mental picture of an elegant Georgian-style brick mansion and stylish, laughing ladies in hoop skirts enjoying picnics by the water and romantic candlelight dinners. “I read about all the historic landmarks in a history book.”

“You would like Fair Winds, Patience. Your parlor reminds me a lot of home.”

“It sounds lovely. I would really like to see it one day.”

“It’s so peaceful along the river. It’s beautiful country.”

“Then why did you leave?”

“It’s personal. I just couldn’t stay. There was a girl I—”

“You don’t have to tell me.” There was a story there, she thought. Perhaps another woman had hurt him. But he would tell her when he was ready to talk about it.

“I want to tell you. I have to tell you. Her name was Jenna.”

“Did you love her?” Patience asked, not really prepared to hear the answer.

“We were engaged to be married. I guess I thought I loved her.”

“What happened? Did she hurt you very much, Nathaniel?”

“I think she injured my pride more than anything,” he said, just realizing the truth of it. “She ran off with a…you promise not to laugh?”

“I would never laugh at your pain,” she swore.

“She ran off with a golf pro. My golf pro.”

Patience’s lower lip quivered uncontrollably, and she had to bite it to hold back the urge to convulse with laughter. She forced her eyes to remain serious.

“That explains your irrationally hostile feelings about golf,” she said evenly.

“Golf was
my
game. I introduced her to the sport.”

“Apparently your pro introduced her to more than the game,” Patience said, finally breaking down. “Sorry, but you have to admit there is something humorous about it.”

“It didn’t seem funny at the time,” he said. Looking back on those times and being here with Patience, his pain was only a distant memory. His feelings for Jenna didn’t even come close to the feelings he had developed for Patience.

“I guess I never really loved her at all. I was more humiliated than anything else. I actually miss my golf game more than I miss her. Since she called off the wedding, I’ve been wandering around the world trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life.”

“And have you come to any conclusions?”

“Nothing definite.” He was quiet for a long time, and then he asked, “Have you ever wanted to get married?”

“I never found a love like my grandparents had,” Patience confided. “That’s what I’m waiting for.” She thought of how her grandfather had indulged and deferred to her grandmother. She was his true partner in life and his true love.

“Did you ever wonder why he married her, whether their meeting was truly accidental? Her father was a vice admiral. That would have proved useful to William during the war. Did you ever think that’s the reason he chose her?”

She thought of Emilie. Of course he must have loved her. Enough to have created a child with her. But the love her grandfather had felt for her grandmother could not be denied. It was strong and true, and tangible. The kind of love you could feel whenever they entered a room. The kind of love that lasts a lifetime.

“Whatever crimes you think my grandfather is guilty of, not loving my grandmother is not one of them. I’m certain of that. What about your mother? Can you tell me about her?”

“My mother left when I was ten years old,” Nathaniel admitted bitterly. “I barely remember her. I blamed myself for her leaving and wondered what I had done wrong to make her leave. I remember missing her desperately, hoping, always hoping, she’d come back. But she never did.

“My grandmother said she didn’t leave me, she left my father. After that, my father left. But if she really loved me, why didn’t she take me with her? My mother left, but my grandmother stuck. Gran raised me. She was a romantic. She said I’d be the one to break the Morgan chain of bad luck with women. But she was wrong. I’m never getting married. No woman is ever going to run from me again.”

Patience stared at him, aching for the lonely boy who still missed his mother. The scars of that hurt were still there. She touched his cheek lovingly and he shivered.

“Not all women leave, Nathaniel.”

“That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

She reached for his hand, and her heart swelled with love for this man. It made no sense. They had met such a short time ago. But she had known him forever. She had been waiting for him forever. They were, somehow, connected.

****

He held her hand in hers.

“I can’t stay, Patience,” he said, frowning. “I have to be honest with you. I owe you that much. Now that I know you’re safe, I…I’ve gotten off course, somehow. It’s not in my nature to stay anchored in any one place for too long. I don’t need anyone but the sea.”

Nathaniel knew that wasn’t exactly true. He needed Patience. He’d never known just how much until he’d seen her in the study with that man. Until he thought he might lose her. But he wasn’t going to stay. In fact, he had already packed his things. He planned to tell her tonight that he would be sailing in the morning.

She laughed. “Bermuda is the world’s second most isolated island. No matter where you are in Bermuda, you’re only minutes from the water. Surely you could find peace here, with the sea all around you.”
And me.

He caught her face in his hands.

“Patience,” he sighed. How was he ever going to live without her? He took her in his arms and kissed her so gently, to try to ease the ache in his heart. But one kiss wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Her arms went around him and she raised her lips to his, seeking his warmth.

“Nathaniel, I love you,” she said, as her tears started flowing. “I wanted to tell you, and I thought when Friederich had hold of me I’d never get a chance to tell you.”

“Oh, God, Patience,” he said, wiping away her tears. “You’re still in shock. It’s all the events of the evening. Please don’t cry over me. You don’t really love me. You can’t love me. You don’t even know me.”

Love could make you crazy and content all at the same time. That was the ten-year-old boy talking, the boy whose mother had left him, who still held on to the belief that he somehow wasn’t worthy of love.

“But I do. I know everything I need to know about you. I know my own heart. And I feel as if we’ve known each other forever.”

“You don’t know everything about me,” Nathaniel said, taking his grandmother’s letter from his pocket and placing it, along with a pouch of diamonds, in her hands. “Here. Read all about Nathaniel Morgan’s noble roots.”

“What is this?”

“It’s a letter my grandmother wrote to William Whitestone on her deathbed. She made me promise to bring it to him when I returned the diamonds he gave her. Now he’s gone, it all belongs to you. So, go ahead, read her letter.”

She took the letter and the pouch and read the words. “My God!” she said as she finished, “Your grandmother was Yvette, Nighthawk’s mistress!”

“So now you see, it would be best if I left.”

“But I don’t want you to leave.”

Nathaniel groaned and grabbed her to him roughly.

“I feel…so much for you…I don’t want to feel,” he managed. “My heart breaks with it.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“No, you can’t possibly know. You can’t know the depths of my feelings for you. I don’t even understand them.”

“Help me to understand, then,” she said softly. “Don’t go.”

“I want to stay,” he said, torn by some eternal, inner turmoil he could not explain.

“Stay and love me, Nathaniel. Love me now. Even if you must go. I need you to love me tonight.” She was trembling, and suddenly he couldn’t stop kissing her, touching her.

He carried her into the bedroom and laid her gently on the bed.

“Patience, I…we can’t do this. You’re not ready. And I’m leaving. It wouldn’t be right.”

She put her hand to his lips.

“No more talking. Touch me, Nathaniel. I need to feel you. Tell me you love me, even if it’s not true. Even if it’s just for tonight. I need to hear you say the words.”

“Oh, God, Patience, but I do. I do love you.”

Nathaniel let out a deep, shuddering breath as he broke down and let the tears come while he kissed her, his tongue lashing hers, his kisses pounding her lips, tears raging like rain in a violent storm. She grabbed onto him for dear life like a drowning woman, pressed herself into him, and refused to let go.

They were close. She wanted to be closer, pressing harder against him. Of course, he thought, she wanted to experience the passion she had only read about in paperbacks, the shimmering love she had witnessed between her grandparents. “Closer, please,” she urged breathlessly.

Burning for her, he ripped away her blouse impatiently and clasped his hands to her breasts. Touched them, tasted them. She moaned. It was her first time, he knew, but he couldn’t be gentle. His need was too great. And he knew she could feel the growing evidence of that need. He wanted to take it slow, for her sake. But he had to have her right now or he would die.

“Patience, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so rough.”

“Don’t be sorry for wanting me as much as I want you, my love, my darling Nathaniel. Please, take me now. I want you to.”

He tried to keep his need at bay, but her responsiveness was just fanning the flames of his desire.

“No, you deserve more. You deserve everything.” He drank from her lips. They were bruised and swollen from his kisses. He touched them, savored them. Then he showed her how much he worshipped her. Touched her everywhere gently, sweetly until she trembled with need for him.

“Now, Nathaniel, now.” She was asking, so innocently, for something she didn’t really understand.

“Ssh, let’s don’t rush,” he breathed softly.

He was shaking from his need for her, but he made his hands give her pleasure, more and more, until neither of them could stand it. She was writhing on the bed, moaning and bucking under him, her skin burning.

He touched her everywhere, tortured her with his hands and his mouth until he felt she was hot and wet and ready. He kissed her and drove into her, firmly but gently at first, and she struggled just a little under him before he lost control and she called out his name in surprise and ecstasy. His heart soared and his body made her his as they surrendered on the waves of passion together.

“Patience, you were made for me,” he breathed, astonished.

“Oh, Nathaniel,” she sighed.

He didn’t know how he would ever leave her now that he had known her sweetness, her safe harbor.

“Did I hurt you, my sweet Patience?” he whispered, as they lay back, spent, on the sheets, tangled together.

“No, no, it was wonderful,” she said. He kissed her softly on the lips.

“For me, too, my love.”

He held on tightly as if she might disappear into the mist.

They lay together like that, restful, coming together again during the night, until dawn broke through the open picture window. And, for the first time in his life, he knew true happiness. She had calmed his ancient restlessness and offered him his first sense of inner peace. He felt the anchor in his heart drop with a thud.

Patience was still sleeping when he left to load the boat. He’d had the entire night to think. It was wonderful. She was wonderful. He couldn’t bear to leave her, but he knew he couldn’t stay. It was in his nature to leave. It would break her heart and her spirit to leave the island. Hamilton Farnsworth had learned that the hard way. So he wouldn’t ask her to.

She would be hurt at first. But she would only hurt more if he stayed longer and then left. He had battled storms before and survived. But he knew if he stayed, if he even saw her again or touched her again, he would lose the ability to fight his feelings.

He felt troubled about leaving the note and debated whether he shouldn’t just leave without any goodbye. It would be better that way. That way she could hate him and then, in time, it would hurt less. He knew it was easier to hang on to anger than live with the pain of false hope.

****

When her eyes flicked open, Patience was sprawled face down on the satin sheets. The faintest early morning light had started to streak through the window when she felt Nathaniel bending over to press a soft, wet, final kiss to her neck. It tickled, and she tingled just from the touch of his lips against her body. Coming out of a deep sleep, her first instinct was to reach for him. But, for some reason, she held back.

“I love you, Patience,” he whispered. “You’re everything to me.”

He caressed her shoulder and then her cheek. He was tender, he was gentle—and he was leaving. His hand lingered, and then he was gone, taking the warmth with him.

Patience choked back a sob until she was sure he had left her room, and then she let the hot tears flow. She would not beg him to stay if he wanted to go.

How had it happened? How had she let him in so close and so quickly to her heart? And why was he breaking it? He was her first love, and he had brought her such joy, propelled her to such heights of happiness. Now she was sinking into the depths of despair. She needed to talk to her grandmother and ask her if love was supposed to hurt this much. But her grandmother was gone. And now, so was Nathaniel.