Page 53 of Unearthing the Smuggler's Heart
"Ah, with only me left in poverty," Mathias said happily, laughing at the irritated looks both women cut him. "It's true, you know. TheHarpyis the whole of my fortune."
"But you live in a castle," Jade protested. "And your father is a comte."
"Wasa comte," Mathias corrected. "My family swore off giving me money after I used the funds they allocated for me to attend Cambridge to instead buy this boat and become a criminal. It's true."
"Well, you've made quite enough of your own fortune in the years since," Isabelle said flatly. "Perhaps you can finally go get an education now."
"Oh, I've had a thorough education already," Mathias assured her. "After all, my studies in lock-picking and assorted skullduggery benefitted us very well last night, didn't they?"
"They did," Jade agreed with a shrug to Isabelle. "It's quite a tale."
"Excellent," Isabelle said, tucking back into her porridge. "Tell me absolutely everything! I want to be fully informed when we land in Spain."
"We're going to Spain, then?" Jade said, that disbelief still tinging her voice, that hope still thrumming beneath her words.
"Yes, we are," Mathias said to her, overwhelmed with the strangest sensation of achievement at being able to say those words, and then a paralysis of warmth at the full, toothy grin she gave in return. "We're taking you home."
CHAPTER23
Jade felt inexplicably sullen in the hours following the bright burst of excitement that had filled her at breakfast. It was the oddest thing, this cloud of sudden dread that had settled onto her shoulders, weighing upon her so heavily that she wanted nothing more than to slump to the deck floor and simply remain there until someone forced her to do otherwise.
In contrast, Isabelle seemed to be bursting with energy for the first time since...well, since Jade had known her. She had set about scrubbing the cabin clean, humming to herself and nursing a secret little smile as she flitted around on bare feet with the door thrown wide open to allow the spring air to cycle through the room and out the open window.
What she wanted just now was comfort, and for comfort, well...there was only one place she wanted to go.
"Captain," she said, standing a short distance from where Mathias was instructing a young swabby on some manner of rope preservation. When he looked up at her, and those amber eyes caught the light, her heart gave the most ridiculous leap in her chest. "I was hoping I might borrow your person for a moment."
"Of course!" he said, clapping the lad on his shoulder with an encouraging nod to continue with his task and coming around to face her. "I am at your service."
"Oh," she said, a weight immediately seeming to dissolve from her shoulders, to release from around her ribs. "Shall we walk?"
He nodded, offering her his arm, and strode next to her for a handful of minutes in amenable silence, taking in the warm breeze that combed over the deck. They walked to the railing, where the sun scattered prettily over the small waves that danced out into the horizon, and he placed a hand to the small of her back, still content to wait or perhaps to simply stand with her for however long she required.
It was enough to melt away enough of her worries that she allowed herself to lean against him, allowed him to wrap an arm around her waist and hold her, even with the crewmen there to see it all and draw whatever conclusions they wished. It no longer mattered at all. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of his skin, all warmth and salt and masculinity, and wished she could stretch this moment out for all of her life.
She missed their borrowed bed in the inn outside of Marseille.
"How long do you think we will stay in Spain?" she asked, her voice soft enough that it was almost carried away by the wind.
"A few days? A week?" he answered, sounding like this was the first he'd considered it. "I suppose it will have quite a lot to do with Isabelle's patience. Do you...erm...do you think that will be enough time?"
She considered it, pulling away from the railing with a sudden need to resume movement. How was she to know how much time she would need? She hadn't seen her mother in years and had never met her father at all. It was not a scenario that she imagined had much precedent.
Mathias leaned against the railing and allowed her to pace, her hands wringing together in distress. Perhaps he understood by now that she could not abide by unpredictability, and it descending upon her repeatedly only fanned its fire.
"I have never been to Spain," she blurted out suddenly, stopping and staring at him with wide eyes. "I speak no Spanish at all!"
"I'm certain they have all retained their English skills," he said, pushing away to approach her, taking those knotted hands in his own and massaging them out of their gnarled state. "Come with me, my love. You are shaking."
She allowed herself to be led by him, her feet shuffling soundlessly along the deck floor while her heart crashed and thundered in her ears. Her mind marveled in a repeated whisper,my love?
It should not have surprised her that he brought her to the cargo deck. After all, this is where they had discovered the possibility of spending time together away from the prying eyes of anyone else. Still, she gazed around the room as though she had never seen it before, and stood in a shaft of warm sunlight as Mathias went about the shelves and poured them each a glass of sweet white wine from his personal store.
"There are cushions back this way," he said, handing her his glass. "We can sit and relax more comfortably there."
My love?her mind persisted.Love?
She had never in her life been the recipient of a profession of love. Even her mother would only go so far as to say things like, "You are very dear to me."
