What the Duke Doesn't Know (27 page)

“I shall go up to London for a special license,” James said as he escorted Kawena back to her own house some time later, “so we can be married right away.” Memories of Nathaniel's recent wedding surfaced. It had been…somehow satisfying to have the whole family together for the occasion. The thought made him briefly wistful. Most of them hadn't even met Kawena.

“There is one thing we must do before everything is final,” she said.

“What? You said yes. That's final.”

“I will explain it all in Southampton,” she told him.

“Southampton? What has Southampton to do with anything?”

“You will see once we go there.”

“I don't understand.”

“We will travel together, as we did before.”

With those words, James remembered every delicious detail of their earlier journey. They would be away from chaperones and interfering relations and…everyone.

“I will meet you where the south road leaves Oxford tomorrow morning at eight,” Kawena declared. And refusing to elaborate, she walked into the house.

* * *

Kawena sat on her horse at the side of the busy roadway, waiting for Lord James to appear. She wore her breeches and cloth hat once again, rather the worse for smoke, keeping her head down to hide her face. Other garb was in a bag tied behind her saddle. She was still not an expert rider, but good enough for this journey.

As she waited, she felt a curious mixture of elation and uneasiness. She was certain she wanted to spend her life with…James. James. It was time to stop adding his title now that he was to be her husband. She'd wanted to settle the future on her own terms. And so, she'd succeeded. He'd declared his willingness to live whatever life she chose. There was every reason to celebrate, no reason to worry. Yet, there were issues she hadn't completely considered until the time came for this journey.

She thought the plan she'd made would please him as much as it did her. But what if it didn't? She'd taken such care over it, looked at the details from every angle. When she'd gotten the idea of revealing it to him in a great flurry of adventure, she'd imagined the scene so innocently. The mystery, the surprise. He'd be amazed, delighted, and after that everything would fall into place, just as it should be. But now it was real, not a fantasy. There were obstacles she'd ignored in her imaginings.

There he was. She watched James ride toward her, straight and easy in the saddle, so terribly handsome. He saw her and smiled, and it was as if all the other people on the road faded into insignificance. Kawena's heart filled with joy.

He reached her, and she signaled her horse to move onto the road beside his. As they rode along together, she returned his smile.

This could be the adventure as it
should
have been, she told herself. She must make certain it was.

“So will you tell me now why we're going to Southampton?” he asked.

“To look into the future,” she said.

“What, you have a fortune-teller there?” he joked. “Crystal gazing and palm reading? I daresay I could find you one closer by.”

Kawena smiled as she shook her head. Her heart was beating fast. “You said…yesterday…you said whatever my plan, you would follow it.”

“Fortune-teller it is, then.”

“But can you really put your future into my hands?” she asked. “Without knowing what it is?”

“It doesn't matter where I am, if I'm with you.”

“In England, I am expected to say that, to do that, for you.” He started to speak, but she held up a hand. “And I could not.”

James tried to discover, in the depths of her dark eyes, what was coming.

“I told you I could not sit in England and wait while you sailed off for years—”

“I've resigned from the navy,” James interrupted.

“What?” Kawena was shocked into silence.

“Days ago. It was time to do it. I dreamed of a career in the navy, and I had one. I'm ready to move on.”

Even though this made matters easier, Kawena was worried. “I don't want to be the reason that you gave it up.”

“Meeting you only made it clear,” he replied. “Along with other things—the slow tops at the Admiralty, seeing my family and realizing how much I've missed.”

“If you regret your choice.”

“What I would regret, to the end of my days, is losing you. I don't care about anything else.”

She gazed into his blue eyes. “Are you really sure?”

“Completely. Though I expect I shall miss the sea.”

“Oh, the sea.” Kawena gave him a dazzling smile, driving all thought from his head.

* * *

They didn't hurry. There was no reason to, and they shared an unspoken desire to recapture the mood of their previous travels. The day was warm, if overcast, and the breeze fresh. Their horses were content to move at a brisk walk. Kawena let the rhythm of their pace, and of occasional conversation, soothe her. Only after an hour or so had passed did she ask him, “What do you think is the most important thing in life?”

“You,” said James.

She smiled. But he'd said it automatically, and she wanted a more considered response. “What if you had never met me?”

James looked over at her, and seemed to catch the gravity of her question from her gaze. He grew thoughtful. “Most important,” he repeated. “I don't know how to choose one thing. I have wanted to make my family proud, to act with honor, to serve my country.”

“And you have,” she said. “You do.”

“I hope so. After those things…” He considered. “I've always wanted to see more, experience more, to find out what's beyond that next curve of shoreline. The other side of the hill.”

“I, too,” said Kawena, her spirit soaring with hope. She'd made the right decision, in so very many ways.

“Not that I can't settle down,” he added hurriedly. “In a house or…some such.”

She smiled a secret smile and rode on.

When the sun sank toward the western horizon, throwing ruddy light into their faces, James began to wonder about arrangements for the night. He was alive with hope, and desire, but wary of making assumptions. As if reading his thoughts, Kawena said, “We should find a room for the night.”

“
A
room,” he echoed, to be perfectly sure.

“You should engage it,” she replied, with a smile that showed she was well aware of his meaning. “I don't want to be too much noticed in these clothes.”

Spirits soaring, James chose a busy inn where the hostlers scarcely had time to observe them as they took charge of their horses. He bespoke a private parlor as well as a bedchamber, and saw that their things were carried up. Calling for hot water to be fetched to the room, he went off to get a good wash elsewhere.

When he returned to their parlor, much refreshed, he found Kawena sitting at a small table before the hearth. She'd taken off her boy's clothes and now wore the sunset-orange gown that gave a seductive glow to her delicate skin. Her hair was pinned up in a sedate knot that made James's fingers itch to loosen it. It was all he could do to sit down opposite, rather than crush her in his arms.

The harried waiter who brought in a tray expressed no surprise at seeing a young lady instead of a boy awaiting dinner. James's concern for appearances eased, and then evaporated when he met her dark eyes, dancing with amusement. Kawena would live as she chose, and it was one of the things he loved most about her.

As they ate, conversation gradually died, replaced by an aura of longing so intense that James thought he would burst. He couldn't have said, afterward, what dishes comprised their dinner, what wine they drank. It seemed forever, and a moment, before Kawena rose and smiled at him. “I shall be in the bedchamber,” she said.

The words, and the sultry invitation in her eyes, seared through him. He waited a few, dragging minutes, and then followed her.

By the time he traversed the short distance to their room, he was breathing like a man who'd run for miles. He opened the door and stepped in, shutting it securely behind him.

Kawena sat at a tiny dressing table in the corner, wearing a thin nightdress edged with lace. In the light of two candles, the intricate tracery lay along her skin like sea foam. Her hands were raised to take down her hair. James strode over and knelt beside her. “Let me,” he said, his voice thick with longing. She let her arms drop, and now at last he could pull the pins and let her hair cascade down her back in a gleaming, ebony fall. It was one of the most beautiful things about this exquisite woman.

She turned to him, and he pulled her close in a kiss that held and held. Through the thin cloth of her nightdress her skin felt hot.

Kawena stood, pulling James up with her, their bodies pressed against each other. She pushed his coat off his shoulders and down his arms. He flung it off, then bent to yank off his boots and stockings and toss them away. Urgent now, Kawena tugged at his shirt. He jerked it up and over his head, tugging impatiently when the cuffs resisted.

Then he stood before her in only his buckskin riding breeches, muscles gilded by the candlelight. Kawena stepped closer and ran her hands over his ribs and up across his chest, delighting in the shudder of desire she evoked. She slid her arms around him and pulled his head down for another of the lingering kisses that set her afire. She could feel his arousal, taut and urgent. She let her hand slide downward again to the fastening of his breeches. He moaned as she loosened them, and gasped when she pushed them down to free him from their bonds.

As James rid himself of this last garment, Kawena skimmed out of her nightdress. They faced each other, naked in body and soul, in the flickering glow of the candles, and moved as one into a passionate embrace. Kawena's knees threatened to give way. She pulled him back onto the snowy bedclothes. He lifted her a little as they tumbled into bed, legs interlaced, hands and lips delectably busy.

Riding a storm of sensation as wild as any tempest at sea, Kawena cried out when he covered her lips with his own and entered her. It was like discovering fantastic new lands, and like coming home, as all her senses dissolved in a crescendo of pleasure.

Afterward, they lay entwined, pulse and breath slowly easing. “I want to lie beside you every night of my life,” James said.

Kawena rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “Yes,” she said.

“I wished we could simply travel together forever,” he added.

She almost spoke then. Only the strength of her past imaginings stopped her.

* * *

They reached Southampton at noon on the third day. Their second day and night of travel had been as wonderful as the first, and James was almost sorry to arrive, though he was curious about what awaited them there. The sea sparkled and surged on their right, its colors changeable as small clouds passed over the sun. “The sound of the ocean is the first thing I remember,” Kawena said as they rode. “And the sight of waves hitting some great rocks and the spray flying up. Even before my mother's face or my family, I think of the sea.”

James gazed at her lovely profile. She seemed a different woman from the adventurer of yesterday. But then, that was the thing, wasn't it? She had so many sides. Only a few weeks ago, he'd thought of women as…all one thing. They were mothers and wives, alluring or intimidating—a…a kind of species, not vital, complex, fascinating individuals. Kawena had shown him that truth.

Kawena led the way directly to the docks and into the work area of a shipyard. Then she simply drew rein and waited. James looked around at the familiar materials and tools, until his eye was caught by a hull that had clearly been repaired and was lying in a slip, ready to be relaunched. He frowned, looked closer. It was—the
Charis
. “My ship,” he said, puzzled.

“My ship,” replied Kawena.

James turned to look at her. “Your—”

“I bought it from the navy.”

James's reaction was all that she'd imagined when she thought of this moment. His eyes widened. His jaw dropped. For several moments, he was speechless. Finally, he stammered, “
This
is what you bought?”

“The English navy didn't want it anymore.”

“I know.” James swiveled back to gaze at the
Charis
. “They decommissioned her while she was still—”

“Generally sound,” finished Kawena, repeating the judgment of the shipwright she'd gotten to examine the
Charis
before she bought it. “Some new planking required, recaulking and new rigging. One new mast.”

James stared at her as if she was speaking a foreign language, though she knew the terms were more familiar to him than they had been to her, at first.

“I've started to get a crew together, with Mr. Crane's help,” she added. “A bare beginning. Very much in need of expert advice.”

James shook his head as if dazed.

“Perhaps some of your former crewmen might be interested, if any have left the navy?”

“I don't understand.” James gazed at the ship with bewilderment and a kind of hunger.

Relenting, Kawena explained. “I can't live in England. I have tried it, and I am not at home here. Though I have no objection to visits, of course. I want to go back to Valatu, to see my family, but I know I won't be content to settle there either. Not after all I've seen and done. So, it seemed to me that the best plan was to sail the sea.”

“Sail the—”

“To live on the sea,” she added. “You had told me about the
Charis
. I asked Mr. Crane to make inquiries.” She wasn't ready to say, just yet, that she had bought the ship for him. It was true, but not all the truth. “We…may perhaps do some trading. Thanks to my father's legacy, cargoes won't be absolutely necessary.”

James blinked. His brain couldn't seem to keep up with events. “Live on the
Charis
?”