Page 84 of A Foreign Crown
The muffled responses stayed just quiet enough that Aribella cursed her position from behind the door. Then a muffled voice drew closer, growing louder, until its owner stood outside her door. Layton’s commanding presence was something Aribella had never seen nor imagined in him, and yet when she heard him, happy gooseflesh traveled up and down her arms.
“You have no business on this vessel or with these passengers. We have pledged to protect these waters from pirates and privateers and Napoleon alike. I say this one time more: you will leave now, or we finish this.”
The handle on her door turned.
She backed up to be out of sight if the door opened.
But then he seemed to pause. “Do I have your agreement?”
More muffled responses, but no more swords clashing sounded from on deck. She leaned back against the wall, unsuccessfully attempting to control her breathing.
The door opened, a ray of light coming in, throwing Layton’s face into a shadow.
“Return to your room. Quickly.” His low voice rumbled through her in a great thrilling wave.
Her throat wouldn’t allow her to speak, so she hurried and did as he said. But as she pulled the door closed behind her, he opened it again, slipped in, and then locked it behind them. When he turned to face her, his eyes were flashing. His sword now hung at his hip. His breath came quickly. “Aribella.”
Her response again stalled in her throat, but somehow, in the time it took to rush into his embrace, she called out his name. “Layton. Oh, Layton. You’ve come.”
“No, I believe it is you who have come.” He held her tightly and then grinned into her face.
She nodded, laughing. “I have. I hope—that is, I’m not asking anything of you. It’s just, I—I had to come.” Her toes curled. Her hands clung to him while she searched his face.
“I knew you were on this ship the moment I saw it. I can’t explain how; I just knew it.” He pulled her closer again. “You were brave to come. Given the war and the privateers in these waters, some would say foolhardy.” His tone suggested he might have said such a thing himself. “But I can only be grateful.” He held the side of her face in his palm. “Have you really come to be with me?”
“If you’ll have me.” Her words caught in her throat again, and wishing to hide from the very forward implications, she amended, “What I mean is I hope news of my coming reached you. And that you don’t mind a sudden visit.”
His eyes twinkled, and he pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I will have you.”
She was left to wonder what he meant by his response as he bowed to her. “Stay here. When all is perfectly safe, I will come for you myself and invite you to journey the rest of the way on my ship.” His hopeful expression warmed her to the top of her head, and she at once felt perfectly safe in his care.
“I will be here. And then will you explain what is going on?”
“Anything you want.” His grin lit his whole face, and then he left and closed the door behind him.
She locked it and then leaned against its rough surface. “Layton.”
Hours seemed to go by, but in truth, she had no way of knowing just how much time had passed before she finally heard a soft knock on her door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
She worked the latch and unlocked her door. Layton stood with two men, perhaps members of his crew.
He offered her his arm and took her satchel from off her shoulder. The other men entered and lifted her trunk between them. When she exited out onto the deck, the crew of both the merchant ship and Layton’s ship were lined up. The other ship was now farther out in the water, heading away. Layton led her through the lines of men and then out across the wide plank. She clung to him and tried to act like she didn’t notice the water far below them. Each step and each rise or fall of one of the ships felt like the moment she would be tipped over into the sea. But at last, Layton stepped down onto the deck of his ship and helped her down beside him.
The other men followed with her trunk. And Layton led her across the deck, past interested and friendly expressions. Every fall of his feet on the deck, the flexing of his arm beneath her fingers, every turn of his head distracted her from every other function. If breathing were not such a thing of habit, she would have stalled in her remembrance to take a breath, for every sense attuned so closely to Layton that nothing else seemed to matter.
He led her to a door and then up a set of stairs into what could only be his private quarters. “Forgive the private nature of our circumstances.” His eyes found hers, a sparkle of humor lighting his face.
“It’s not as if we haven’t been alone before.” She grinned.
“True.” He stepped closer and then tucked a wayward hair behind her ear. She wanted to lean in to every touch of his skin on hers. Then his face fell. “I am sorry about your father.” His eyes filled with such sadness that she was astounded at the strength of his emotion.
Her eyes welled. “Thank you. I was with him... when it happened.”
“I ache that I was unable to meet him, though he did send me a letter.”
