Page 63 of Unearthing the Smuggler's Heart
He stared down at it for a moment, his heart beginning to pound against his ribs, louder and louder until it was the only thing he could hear. Slowly, so very slowly, he reached down and lifted the page from the carpet, an image beginning to take shape in his mind.
* * *
Jade had stepped awayfrom the schoolhouse to weep, not wishing to be seen by the children or by her parents in her moment of weakness. She had walked briskly from the little blue building, holding her breath for as long as she could manage while her vision swam with the threat of tears she had refused to let fall.
She had begun to cry at the end of the drive, and she hadn't realized that her feet were still moving until the tears had spent themselves and she was standing once again at the gate that led to the villa. She had walked all the way home, leaving teardrops in her footprints like seeds of sorrow that might grow in her path.
Realizing that she had reached the only destination that she may have aimed for slowed her, and though she had covered countless steps without realizing it, the few that were left to the door that would lead her inside seemed an impossible journey, an endless walk away from where she stood just now.
She had said her goodbyes this morning, with the others. She had embraced Isabelle fiercely, giving her the goodbye she couldn't extend to Mathias. To him, she had only muttered a farewell, and hurried away before her heart could shatter in the presence of so many other people. If anyone found it odd, they did not say so, and her parents had not mentioned it when she asked to attend them at the school today.
Of course, that didn't mean that they hadn't noticed her heartbreak. Jade knew as well as anyone that tact often came in the guise of feigned ignorance. The way her mother had reached for her hand in the carriage, her face turned toward the window as though she could not even be aware of her own extension of comfort, seemed to Jade like a clear message.I see your pain, but I also respect your pride.
She shoved the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands and forced herself to walk. She had remained whole through so much tragedy and so much pain. This could not break her. It would not, even if it cracked every bone in her body with the force of its pain.
She counted the clicks of her heels on the bricks, just to give her mind something to do. She must have always known, on some level, that Mathias would eventually leave her. She must have known that it wasn't forever.
She had known better than to fall in love with aprettyman. She had done it anyway.
And perhaps the most absurd thing about it all was that she couldn't bring herself to regret it. She couldn't wish it away or will herself to forget him, even just now, at her rawest, when the wound was fresh and still bleeding. She would not trade her memories of him, of his smile and his laugh and the way she had felt when he held her in his arms for all the calm in the world just now.
No, the pain was the price she must pay to have experienced something so incredible in her life. Most people were never so lucky.
She walked to her bedroom, anticipating the feel of the cool pillow on her cheek, of the tight wrap of her blanket as she sought a bit of escape in the embrace of sleep. She had survived far worse. She would survive this, somehow. She had gained a family, even if she had lost her love. There must be solace in that, in the end.
She forced herself to continue, to walk, to move, inhaling deeply of the fresh air that streamed in through the hall windows. She would find her way through this, she told herself. She would find the light again.
And maybe. Maybe I will find him again too.
She shook her head, stopping for a moment to sway on her feet. No. She mustn't think like that. She mustn't...mustn'thope.
She could not hold a sob in. She could only slap a hand over her mouth in an attempt to muffle it and speed her pace to reach the bedroom as quickly as possible. She threw herself into the door, gripping the knob with enough force that she could feel the brass clashing with her bones.
She fell inside and kicked the door shut behind her, dragging in a ragged breath of relief, her hands braced on her knees, her hair falling in a curtain over her face.
It only took a moment, a few gulps of the calm of her private room, and then she could stand again. Still, she did so carefully, climbing her hands up to her thighs and straightening herself slowly so that her head would not spin. That was when she saw it. A crumpled sheet of parchment paper, lying on her pillow.
She hesitated, knowing that she had not left anything there. She had done her scheduling work at the desk in the corner of the room since arriving. It was a letter. For her. But, even from here she could recognize the strokes of her own hand, the slant of her own letters, and before even reaching it, she knew, somehow, what it was going to say:
* Feign ill,very contagious?Take weak poison?
* Run away?
* Break arm and/or leg?How?
* Sink ship?Set it on fire?
* Elope with whomever will take me.That ginger footman?
* Commit a petty crime? Refuse to leave jail until boat is gone.
Her brow wrinkledas she approached it. Why would he have kept this? More importantly, why would he give it back to her? She forgot for a moment to be sad, by merit of curiosity, and reached an unsteady hand out to retrieve the list.
Her eyes scanned over it, reading the silly, embarrassing, absurd ideas she’d had back when she had thought leaving English shores was the scariest idea possible. Then, she noticed the additional suggestions scrawled onto the bottom of the page…these in Mathias’s hand.
* Take over the ship;wrest control from the captain
* Make captain fall ridiculously in love
