Page 20 of Desert Island Duke

She only hoped that her unladylike display of affection for the eight-legged creature hadn’t lowered her in his estimation. It was perfectly acceptable for a lady to like kittens or puppies, but an interest in arachnids was rather less common.

She finger-combed her damp hair in an attempt to remove some of the tangles, and when the sun broke through the clouds, her spirits lifted. She hastened to Max’s jacket and pulled the watch from his pocket, then gathered the tinder necessary to start a fire.

Cross-legged, she directed the bright circle of reflected light onto a pile of shredded coconut bark, and watched in excitement as a dark spot appeared. The singed area began to smolder, and she heaped more dried grass on top of it, blowing carefully. The sudden bright flare of a flame was like a tiny miracle.

“Yes!”

Careful not to swamp the flame, she added larger twigs, and when she was sure it was past the danger point, she sat back on her bottom with a sigh of satisfaction.

A glance up the beach showed Max had his back to her; he was casting his makeshift fishing hook into the shallows. With a sudden jerk he pulled back his arm and tugged a silvery, glittering fish from the waves. He almost lost his balance trying to land the thing on the rocks, but managed it at last, and his whoop of triumph echoed across the bay.

He straightened, fish in hand, and held it up to show her—and it was then that he noticed the smoke and her fire.

Caro grinned and waved, and he waved back, leaping athletically down from the rocks and jogging back along the sand.

“You made a fire!” His sun-flushed face was wreathed in a smile. “You marvelous thing!”

“And you caught us some dinner,” she countered, nodding at the fish in his hand.

“I did. I’ve no idea what it is, but it saves us from eating nothing but mango.”

He headed back the water and made quick work of cleaning the fish, while Caro piled more wood on the fire until it was a steady blaze. When he returned, he sank to the sand next to her and held his hands out toward the flames with a sigh of satisfaction.

“Now this is excellent. We’ll dine like kings tonight.”

Caro stilled as a sudden thought occurred to her. “Wait, what day is it?”

He shrugged. “Don’t ask me.”

“We left Madagascar on December the twenty first, and the storm was the night of the twenty second. Which means we woke up on the beach here yesterday, the twenty third—”

“—which makes today Christmas Eve!” he finished. “Tomorrow’s Christmas day.”

“We’re missing Christmas!”

“We’re not missing it,” he smiled. “We’re just having it somewhere else, that’s all. Somewhere interesting. What would you usually do? If you were in England, that is. Sing carols? Decorate the house?” His eyes twinkled. “Hang a branch of mistletoe over the doorframe, hoping for a kiss?”

He glanced up, as if expecting a similar branch to be suspended above their heads, but there was only the swaying green lattice of palm fronds. He puffed his lower lip in a disappointed pout.

“We usually spend Christmas with the family, if we’re in England.” Caro said. “Especially the cousins. We’ve been absent so often that it’s lovely when we all manage to get together.”

“I know your cousins. Tristan and I were at university together.”

“I was sorry to miss his wedding. But father insisted on going to Brazil. Whoever imagined a Montgomery would fall in love with a Davies? First Maddie married Gryff, and then Tristan married Carys.” She frowned. “Wait, you were invited to their wedding, I’m sure of it. Don’t you remember?”

If he could remember Tristan’s wedding, a few months ago, then surely he’d remember attending as a duke, and not as a stable hand?

“I’m still a bit hazy about England.”

“I can’t believe you don’t remember my great aunts,” she prodded. “Constance and Prudence? They’re infamous in the Ton for their indiscretion.”

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

Caro breathed a silent sigh of relief. Her deception was safe—for now.

The fish, whatever it was, turned out to be delicious, and they washed it down with fresh water and mango.

By unspoken agreement they built the fire into a roaring blaze. Max withdrew a long stick from the embers, and together they carried it over the rocks, and onto the adjacent beach. Several of the Artemis’s passengers could be seen across the strait, and Max waved the smoking torch in their general direction.

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