“My, my,” he chuckled, his eyes narrowing as they paused over words that would make a sailor blush. He hoped she was getting some ideas they could later put into practice.
Patience tossed restlessly on the bed like a ship roaming rough seas.
“What are you dreaming about, darling Patience?” he whispered before he pulled the covers down from her chin. He tucked the paperback into his pocket. This novel could bear further investigation. But now it was time to awaken his sleeping beauty. He planted a chaste kiss on her forehead.
“Let me take you out to breakfast, this morning, Patience,” offered Nathaniel cheerfully as Patience surfaced from slumber. “I’ve been practicing on the scooter. I think I’ve got my hand signals down.”
“I think it might be safer to take my car,” she laughed. “Otherwise, we both might end up in hospital with a bad case of road rash or worse.”
Then the light left her eyes and she asked, “What day is it, Nathaniel? I’ve lost track of the time. I look back and the days are all jumbled together.”
He reached for her hand. That’s how he had felt since she came into his life. Was it truly only days, or weeks or hours? It felt like forever, yet not long enough.
“It’s Sunday,” he answered. “I’ve been hearing a lot about the brunch at the Fourways Inn. Could we try it?”
Patience squeezed her eyes shut.
“Do you have another headache?” he asked, touching his hand to her forehead and rubbing his thumb gently over her eyes.
“No, I just don’t think I can summon the energy to go out again. I still feel like I’m in a fog.”
“Of course. I understand.” Last evening, he had seen her rustling through the clothes in her grandmother’s closet, feeling them, smelling them, and he knew she was imagining Diana was still there. And he had caught her crying. He hadn’t wanted to intrude on her grief, so he’d passed by the room in silence.
Perhaps she was wondering why the flowers in the garden were still in bloom, why the ocean continued to beat against the shore, why the sky was so bright and blue, and why nothing had changed even though the light had gone out of her life? He had wondered that too, once, a long time ago, when his mother had walked out of his life. But his mother had left him of her own free will. She hadn’t been taken from him, like Diana Whitestone.
“Well, then, I’ll just have to make you one of my famous Morgan omelets.”
She laughed. “I’m almost afraid to ask what’s in it.”
“That depends entirely on what you have in the galley.”
“All manner of things, I imagine. Cecilia and Sallie make sure the kitchen stays well stocked. They know I won’t shop.”
Nathaniel took her hand in his again. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her. Her hand was limp and lifeless, like the limb of a wounded bird. She didn’t even have the strength to run a brush through her hair. He left her for a moment to walk into the bathroom and returned with an antique silver hairbrush. He went to work on her hair, and the steady movement of the brush through her scalp seemed to soothe her, while it aroused him. If he continued, they’d never eat. He placed the brush on the end table by the bed.
“Now, come with me to the kitchen,” he urged, and guided her off the bed and all the way to a chair in the kitchen. “You’ll keep me company. This omelet demands an audience.”
He rattled around the kitchen, clanging and banging pots and pans, trying to get a reaction. He loved it when she laughed.
“You’re a strange girl, Patience,” he said, as he paused, waiting for the butter in the frying pan to melt.
“Strange in an odd way?” she ventured.
“No, strange in a wonderful way,” he replied. “You’re a throwback from another time. So formal. Old worldly. You’re also sweet and funny and endearing and strangely familiar.”
Nathaniel set about making the omelet.
“Well, we really do have a big selection here, don’t we?” he commented. “Mushrooms, and cheese, and—surprise—Bermuda onions.”
“You’re teasing me.”
“I suppose I am.”
“You know something?” Patience mused. “You’re just a big fraud, Nathaniel Morgan.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not at all what I expected.” Patience gifted him with a smile that brightened the whole room. “You blustered into my life like a dangerous pirate, roaming the seas, wild and free, making demands and taking control. But you also have a softer, domestic side. You nurture me, mother me. You seem to be as at home in the kitchen as you are on the sea.”
“Never had much mothering, myself,” Nathaniel said and stared off, lost in his thoughts. “Except for Gran.”
“Your Gran? Is she still alive?”
“No, she’s gone. They all go.” But he didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he made a show of fussing over the plates and the table settings.
“I thought we’d sit out on the veranda, facing the sea,” he said.
“Do you miss the sea?”
“Well, how can I miss it when I’ve got it right outside my door?” They listened to the waves crash wildly against the rocky shore as they sat down to breakfast. “It’s so beautiful here, with the pink sand beaches.”
“Do you want to know why the sand in Bermuda has that wonderful pink hue?” Patience asked, her eyes twinkling.
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” He laughed.
“Now, I know you’re teasing me.”
He tweaked her nose. “Maybe just a little.”
“It’s composed of shell particles, calcium carbonate, and bits of crushed coral mixed with sand, and it never gets hot, even in the summer.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes, and we have thirty-four beaches. We’ve a private beach down the steps at the back of this house, and so many other wonderful beaches. I want to show you my island.”
****
If she occupied Nathaniel with enough activities, he wouldn’t leave the island, or her, Patience thought. There was certainly enough to do and see in Bermuda to keep him here a lifetime. And she realized she wanted that.
With delight she spoke of her beloved island, gesturing rhythmically, contagious enthusiasm in every phrase. “I’ll take you for a swim at Warwick Long Bay, and back into St. George’s. There’s a lot of history there. Remember I told you about the replica of the Deliverance II? We can go on a walking tour. That would take a whole day. And you’ve hardly seen any of Hamilton. Then we can go over to the Dockyard, and later have dinner at the Waterlot Inn at Southampton. That’s my favorite restaurant. Being a sailor, you’ll love it. It’s an old converted warehouse on the water’s edge. It’s got old paintings of ships, gourmet food, and lots of charm. We’ve also got some great galleries and terrific local artists. I want you to love Bermuda as much as I do. You could spend a lifetime here.”
“Whoa,” Nathaniel said. “I thought all you wanted to do was languish here at the house—not that you don’t have a lot to occupy yourself here.”
“Well, now that I’ve got some food in me, I feel more energetic. Mmm, this omelet is so delicious, so delicate, so flavorful. I guess I was hungry after all. Thank you.”
“Just make sure you eat every bite. You need your strength. I’m worried about you.”
“You are?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course, we’re cousins, aren’t we?”
They ate in companionable silence.
“Have you ever been in love, Nathaniel?”
“That question came out of left field.”
“Well, have you?”
“I thought so, once,” he said irritably.
“Do you have anyone to go home to?”
“Not anymore,” he said with finality, in a manner that suggested further discussion of the subject was off limits.
“Nathaniel,” she started, and he turned to face her. “Would you think I was crazy if I told you I knew you would come?”
�
��You knew? How?”
“I was expecting you.”
“You were waiting for me?”
“I know it sounds funny, but you’ve been in my dreams.”
His attitude serious, he looked into her eyes.
“Since we met?”
“And before. I can’t explain it.”
He reached over the table for her hand.
“Tell me.”
“You were just what I’d hoped for. Dark and dangerous and daring. A wild sea captain.”
“And…” he coaxed seductively.
“And terribly tender and unbearably sweet.”
****
Nathaniel’s heart constricted. He found it difficult to breathe. But he kept hold of her hand. Against all better judgment, he was falling deeper in love with this woman every day.
“Patience,” he whispered, wondering if she could hear him above the din of the ocean.
“Yes?”
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
They stood at the same time. She smiled shyly, closed her eyes and lifted her face expectantly to his eager lips. As his lips brushed hers, she eased into him, and his tongue took possession of her mouth. She shivered and clutched Nathaniel’s shirt. The delicious feel of her, exciting and thrilling, pulsed through his body like a primitive jungle rhythm. He felt almost feverish against the cool breeze off the ocean, which steadily, comfortingly, lapped to shore. Moaning, she wrapped her arms around him and didn’t let go.
****
She wanted him, wanted to be with him, though she did not quite understand exactly what that entailed. She only knew that being in his arms felt right, new and mysterious yet somehow safe and familiar. She was eager to explore the body she held against her. And she wanted to stay there forever, bask in his warmth, and make this glorious feeling last.
“Patience!” He seemed to have difficulty breathing when they finally broke apart. “I must tell you. I’ve been avoiding it all morning. Somebody’s been on the Fair Winds again.”
“How can you tell?” she asked, suddenly worried for him.
“That ship’s like my woman. I’d know if somebody else had boarded her.”
She blushed.
“He’s warning us. He’s getting closer, and he wants us to know he’s here. Searching. Prying. Stalking. Waiting to pounce.”
She shivered.
“You’re shaking like a leaf. Let me get you a sweater before you blow away.”
“No, let’s both go in together. I don’t want to be alone out here now.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve frightened you. I didn’t mean to. I’m here now. So you don’t have to be afraid.” He closed his hand protectively around hers and led her back into the house.
****
Patience thought the late-night phone calls had stopped, but they hadn’t. She’d been asleep and he’d answered, and the caller had hung up, expecting to hear Patience’s frightened voice.
“Who is this?” Nathaniel had shouted. “Answer me, now!” But the caller had broken the connection. There was no reason to tell Patience. It would just worry her. And that was the last thing he wanted to do.
****
Later, that afternoon, while Nathaniel was occupied on the Fair Winds, after he had called Cecilia and asked her to come over to keep Patience company, Patience looked up at her friend.
“He’s pulling away,” Patience said. “He’s making leaving noises.”
“Well, you know the rules. Visitors are only allowed to stay three weeks, unless they own real estate or unless he has means to support himself without seeking employment on the island. Or unless you’re planning to marry him.”
“Cecilia! It’s not like that between us. His time’s almost up. He’s taken the Fair Winds out for provisioning, I think. He mentioned that he has reciprocal privileges at the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club. When he leaves, he won’t be back. I can see it in his eyes. He just hasn’t told me goodbye yet. Cecilia, I don’t want him to go. How can I make him stay? How can I keep him here?”
“Darling, I’ve learned the hard way that you can’t hold on to someone who wants to break free. Have you told him how you feel?”
“No,” Patience admitted. “I haven’t said the words. He could have an ocean of women, and has had, I’m sure. Why would he want me?”
“I think that’s obvious. He doesn’t want an ocean of women.”
“It’s not obvious to me. I’m plain, not spectacular, like my grandmother.”
“You’re every bit as beautiful as Diana,” Cecilia argued. “You look exactly like her. Everybody always said so.”
“But I don’t have her fire, her spirit, her vivaciousness,” Patience objected. “When she entered a room, she dominated it. She captivated everyone in sight. Absolutely everyone noticed her.”
“You are capable of those same qualities. You may be quiet and unassuming, but you’re just as brilliantly stunning in your own way.”
“My grandfather adored my grandmother. She inspired the type of larger-than-life romance, the kind of love you only read about in fairytales. That’s what I want.”
“It will happen that way for you too,” Cecilia promised. “You’ll see. Maybe it already has.”
“No, I think I’m going to have to practice being more like you, more fun-loving and adventurous,” Patience said. “Maybe I should seduce him. You could help me.”
Patience turned away until the laughter in her friend’s voice stopped roaring in her ears.
“You, seduce a man? Patience, you don’t have it in you. Leave that to the professionals like me. Just be yourself. You’ll get your chance to shine. Has he kissed you yet?”
“Yes, and when he does, it feels like I’m floating…flying, like a longtail, soaring high above the island. And then I can tell he wants more and, Cecilia, so do I, but I—”
“Has he tried anything?” Cecilia accused, pacing the room like a mother tiger protecting her young.
“He tried, I mean we tried, that is, he tried and I… He wanted to make love with me, but I stopped him,” Patience explained awkwardly, lamenting, “What’s wrong with me?”
Cecilia hesitated, because she could see that her friend was seriously hurting, before adding, “Nothing is wrong with you. You have to move at your own pace. When the time is right and you feel safe with the right man…you’ll know what to do. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“For heaven’s sake, Cecilia, you’ve been married three times. I’m twenty-seven and I’ve never been with a man. If I’m not ready now, when will I ever be?”
Chapter 26
Patience had fallen asleep on her bed and was still a little disoriented when Nathaniel gently nudged her shoulder.
“I was dreaming of a man, and I thought he was—I mean, he had the look of my grandfather,” Patience said.
Nathaniel scratched his head. “Patience, your grandfather is dead,” he said softly.
“Yes, I know.” She remembered all the blood—on her hands, smeared on her dress, and on the carpet in the study.
“Your hands are stone cold.” Nathaniel frowned as he took her small hands into his and rubbed them until the circulation returned. Then he put them to his lips and kissed them gently.
“All warm. Better?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“When did Cecilia leave? I told her to stay until I got back.”
“I didn’t need her here. I was reading, and I must have dozed off.”
He sat on the bed, and they talked about who could possibly be shadowing them.
“It can’t be anyone else but that man your grandfather referred to in his journal as Nighthawk. He knew about the gold. He helped your grandfather unload it. But I don’t know his real name, and he’s been impossible to track down all these years later. My guess is that now your grandfather is dead he’s come back for what he considers his rightful share of the gold. Your grandfather knew he was dangerous. And it stands to reason he may be the one who was blackmailing Wil
liam Whitestone and finally killed him.”
Patience shivered. She suddenly felt cold again.
****
“We’re going out,” Nathaniel announced the next morning after breakfast.
“No, I can’t go out,” Patience wailed. “I’ll have every well-meaning matron clucking over me. ‘Poor Patience. She’s all alone. So utterly alone. No man. No prospects. What will become of her?’ They all feel sorry for me. They’ll go to work on me and start trying to pair me off with their sons, the usual lineup of stuffy bankers, proper members of Parliament, and any number of other ‘suitable,’ available men. I won’t be able to stand their pity.”
Nathaniel folded his arms and stared at her.
“I told you before, you’re not alone,” Nathaniel said, putting his arm around her. “You’ve got me.”
“For how long?” she whispered, looking up at him. He didn’t answer.
Nathaniel had pretended not to hear her question. How could he reply when he didn’t know the answer himself?
“Out where?” Patience wanted to know.
“Into town to shop.”
“But I don’t need anything.”
“Well, then, I’ll do the shopping. I just think you need to get out. You’ve been cooped up too long in this house. The only time you’ve gone out is for that business meeting. You need to have some fun.” He worried that if she continued to remain cooped up, she’d have too much time to focus on the stranger who was stalking them.
“Okay, then we’ll take my car,” she agreed.
“No, we need some adventure. Let’s take the scooter.”
“Oh, no, not the scooter. Not with you driving.”
“Get dressed. Your transportation leaves in ten minutes. I assume you have a helmet. Doesn’t everyone in Bermuda have a scooter?”
“Of course, but you’re not going to wear those shorts, are you?” she mocked. “Or I’ll have to bring the first-aid kit.”
“I’ll be changed into my jeans before you even make it to your closet.”
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