by Kirsten Lynn
She pushed back the heavy bedding and forced her legs over the side. Washing and dressing, she rejected the terrible truth of where her thoughts were leading. If she had chosen a different advertisement to answer, she would never have known Rhys. She was sure there were many fine men in other parts of the country, but none would be the other half of her heart.
The sound of visitors’ low voices in the dining room drew her there first when she made her way downstairs.
She gave a small gasp of surprise. “Father McDonald?”
“There you are, my dear. I thought you intended to sleep the day away.”
Rhys stood and pulled out a chair for her. “She’d deserve to. Would you like some breakfast?”
“I can…”
He motioned to the chair. “Alice left a plate warming on the stove. I’ll get it for you, if you’ve a mind to eat.”
“Yes, please. Is Alice gone?”
Rhys gave a short nod. “She and Deacon left at nine o’clock. Young Charlie is still here to help with the light tonight.”
“Nine?” Gillian craned her neck to see the clock on the mantle in the living room. “Ten thirty! Rhys, you should have woken me. This is shameful.”
“Sit, Gillian. Like I said, you deserved the rest. You didn’t sleep much during the night.”
“Neither did you, and faced greater hardship than I did. You managed to face the world at a decent hour.”
His scowl was deep. “I’m not going to argue the point, wife. Sit down and I’ll get your breakfast.”
She relented and slid into the chair, sending Father McDonald a weak grin. “I’m sorry, Father; you didn’t come here to witness Rhys and I arguing.”
“Not much of an argument, if you ask me. Why, Addie and Willard Channing can go at each other like two cats with their tales tied together. And the language? Heaven’s sake, it makes what can be heard at the docks sound like baby’s babble.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the priest’s tale. “Thank you, Father, but I am sorry.”
A plate of eggs, ham, potatoes and toast was placed in front of her. Then a jar of blueberry jam was set beside the plate.
“Alice brought the jam. Said we needed something sweet.”
She smiled at Rhys. “Thank you, Rhys, and I’m sorry for snapping at you when you were just trying to be considerate.”
“It’s done, Gillian. Eat.”
She began eating her breakfast, focusing on the toast and jam. Rhys and Father McDonald fell back into conversation about the fire and what Rhys would be doing for transportation and a rescue vessel. The memory of his words sent a cold chill over her shoulders and they shook. Rhys didn’t break in his conversation, but wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
“The Father’s been telling me there’s a man with a sloop in Bass Harbor who might be willing to sell the vessel cheap or even give it away. He used to be a lobsterman, but decided to seek employment at the cannery.”
A small hope burned in her chest. “That would be wonderful, Father. When can we know?”
“I’ll visit with Harry when I return to Bass Harbor.” Father McDonald cleared his throat. “Gillian, Edgar Nulton’s body was found this morning. It had been pushed ashore up the coast a bit.”
She placed the fork down and cut her gaze from Father McDonald to Rhys and back to the priest. “I have a terrible confession, Father.”
“What is that, child?”
“I have no feeling about his loss. I must be the most sinful woman, but no matter how I try, I cannot conjure any sense of grief, relief or even joy in his loss. I didn’t hate him Father, truly I didn’t. I didn’t feel anything for him…at all. I only saw he meant to hurt Rhys and reacted.”
Father McDonald hitched an eyebrow, then his face relaxed. He wasn’t smiling or frowning, just absorbing her words. “I don’t believe you’re any more or less sinful than any of us, Gillian. I believe Edgar Nulton died as your father many years ago. As for what happened last night, Rhys and I have spoken with the constable, and the record shows Nulton slipped on the rocks and fell into the sea after his act of arson against the Femme Rouge.”
She turned her gaze to Rhys. “But that’s a lie. I pushed him; you saw me push him.”
Rhys held her hands between his. “And that’s exactly what I told the constable, along with my confrontation with Nulton. He insisted this was the best way, not to deceive anyone, but this way, Miriam can’t come after you. Not that I think she would.”
“Why?”
“If I know anything about Miriam Nulton it’s that she married for money, and now she can be alone with her one true love.” Rhys’ grip on her hand tightened. “But if you weren’t upset about Nulton, then why have I lost a part of you?”
“Because I acted to save you Rhys, to keep you with me, and then you were gone. For his sake you left me.” She took one of his hands and laid it on her belly. “You left us. I couldn’t stand the thought of life without you. My heart and mind shattered.”
She moved her hand, but Rhys kept his where she’d placed it. “A baby, Gillian? You’re giving me a child?”
She rested her hand back on his. “I’m not giving you anything. You helped.”
A throat clearing sent both their gazes to the priest. “I believe I should leave…”
Gillian waved away Father McDonald’s concerns. “No, you had a part, too.”
“I most certainly did not.”
Rhys joined her in her laughter. “I mean without you and the villagers sending those letters and you choosing me, we wouldn’t have met.”
The priest’s shoulders relaxed, but he continued to stand. “Well, I still think this is a time for a husband and wife to celebrate alone. I’ll just go check on Charlie. I will say this: I hoped, but never let myself believe that this union would be as strong as I see it’s become. I believe a greater hand than mine was at work here to be sure.”
After Father McDonald left the room, Gillian smiled at Rhys, his hand still shielding their child. “I wanted to tell you last night over hot chocolate.”
“I’ll take this news anytime. I should never have left you on those rocks alone.”
“I shouldn’t have overreacted. I know saving lives is your job, but he’d just tried to kill you. I couldn’t understand why you’d choose his life and risk your own.”
He shrugged. “It was a life. Despicable as he was, Edgar Nulton was a life.”
“You must think me a monster for showing so little concern.”
He lifted her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles. “I think you’re a woman who loves her husband, mon ange. I’m thankful for it. Did you mean to kill him?”
“Absolutely not. I meant to knock him off balance so he’d lose the pistol.”
His smile held no joy. “Exactly. It was you who warned me against confronting him to begin with. None of us were wise when we met on those rocks.”
“No, it was a nightmare from start to finish.”
Rhys nodded. The nightmare was even more so with news his pregnant wife had fought a fire and had been running along the slick coastal rock. She could have lost the baby. Worse, he could have lost her.
A cool palm caressed his cheek, bringing him back to the present. “It seems I’ve lost you, now.”
He leaned away from her touch when he ached to lean into it. “It’s been a long morning.”
“Rhys, you asked me last night not to start keeping things from you. I’m asking the same of you now. I saw the fear and hurt in your eyes.”
He stood and walked over to the window facing inland. Nothing remained of the Femme Rouge, and what little had survived, he and some men from the village disposed of that morning. He still didn’t want to look over the empty boat landing.
“I didn’t know you were carrying my child.”
She moved to stand beside him, and he focused on their reflection in the window. They appeared to be a couple who had been together many years. The truth was, they’d b
een together only a few months.
Gillian rested a hand on his arm. “I know. But it wouldn’t have changed anything. I still would have helped with the fire, and you still would have done what you were made to do.”
He frowned. “You won’t help with the lighthouse as much.”
She smiled. “Yes, I will.”
The lines on his forehead deepened. “You’ll rest and won’t do so much around the house.”
Her smile grew and she snuggled closer. “When I’m many months along and need rest, I will. But I will continue to care for you and our home. Except dusting…there might be a bit of dust gathering over these seven months.”
He turned then and gripped her arms. “How can you smile and joke about this?”
She leaned forward and surprised him by dropping a kiss on his nose. “Because I love you, Rhys, and you’re here with me. That did not change throughout the dark hours of last night and this morning. And your love for me hasn’t changed. It could have, you know. We could be farther apart this morning.” She stepped closer and broke from his grip. Her arms looped his neck, so her soft curves melted against his hard angles. “Instead, we seem very close.”
He cupped her face with his hands and examined her dark eyes. “You’re coming back to me. What happened?”
“I woke this morning thinking it would have been better had I answered another advertisement. Traveled miles from home and left you alone and in peace. But I was so wrong, Rhys. Neither of us would have ever had peace without the other. There would have always been something…someone missing.”
He brushed his mouth over hers. “Never think of a life without me, mon coeur, for I could never imagine life without you.”
“All those days of begging you not to let them into our lives, and I almost fell into those same murky waters. Thank you for holding me through the night and letting me rest and heal.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “I like holding you as we sleep. It’s letting you go I find hard to do.”
Gillian smoothed her hand over his face and smiled when the whiskers of his beard tickled her palms. He found his wife enjoyed the feel of his beard in many other places, too. Her arms looped around his neck once more. “I hate letting go, too. How long are we allowed to stand here and hold each other?”
“We could go upstairs and really celebrate.”
Her laugh brought back another spark to her eyes, and Rhys saw another piece of his wife’s life and hope restored. “Rhys Chermont, Father McDonald is mere steps away. What if he returned? What if he climbed the stairs and heard…”
Rhys leaned back lifting her from the floor then swung her in a circle. “You please me, Gillian Chermont.”
She framed his face with her hands and pressed her mouth to his. His eyes opened in surprise when she nipped his bottom lip and deepened the kiss when his lips parted. Her mouth was warm and soft, and she gave everything she had, bringing a deep groan from his soul. Her eyes opened, and she held his gaze. The kiss seemed to go on for eternity, but ended too quickly. When she broke the kiss, she nuzzled her nose against his. “You please me, too, Rhys.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‡
“I brought sandwiches and hot coffee. You will take a break and eat some lunch.”
“Aye, Aye, Captain!” Rhys saluted Gillian as she emerged over the side of the sloop and then climbed onto the deck. The wind caught strands of her hair, sending streamers of black silk flying. She’d taken to wearing her hair loose with only the sides held back with decorative combs. It wasn’t done in society, but Rhys discovered his wife did many things not done in society. She walked around barefoot inside the house and kissed him whether they had an audience or not. She had no issue with undressing him, or having him undress her. He smiled. And she did not obey her husband when he told her not to traipse around on the slick granite surrounding their home now that she was with child.
As though reading his thoughts, she stood before him, her head tipped back as she waited for a kiss. Not being a foolish man, Rhys complied. She smiled like he’d just given her the world when he broke the kiss. “You shine brighter than the North Star, Gillian. What has you so happy today?”
“You. Our child. The life you’ve given me here.”
He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “You make it hard for a man to punish you for disregarding orders to stay near the house.”
“As if you were a man who raised his hand to his wife. You bluster like a hurricane, but you would never hurt me.”
Rhys opened his hand, his palm on her cheek. He ran the pad of his thumb along her high cheekbone. He couldn’t imagine laying a hand on her in anger, and cursed the one time his fingers left her face red. “You’ve discovered all my secrets already, wife. What will keep you occupied in the coming years?”
She had the audacity to wag her eyebrows. “I’m sure you can find ways to keep me occupied for a hundred years, husband.” She lifted the pail of food and glass bottle of milk. “But for now, share lunch with me and tell me about our new sloop.”
Taking the pail and bottle from her, he searched for a place where they could sit. “Do you mind sitting on the deck?”
“Not at all. It will be a picnic.” She knelt, and he handed the pail back to her. Like she was preparing a table for wealthy ship investors, Rhys watched her spread out the swath of material she’d used to cover the food and then set out their sandwiches. She set out the jar of Alice’s blueberry jam with biscuits. “I’ll have to ask Alice what she does to her jam. It’s the finest I’ve tasted.”
Rhys joined her sitting on the deck, swept up in Gillian’s enthusiasm for life. “I could tell. The first jar was gone before I could get my spoon in the jar.”
Her eyes narrowed, but her mouth turned in a smile. “I’m feeding our child, as well.”
“Don’t blame our child for your sweet tooth, ma petite, remember you were drinking two cups of hot chocolate a night before.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and then ran the pad of his thumb over her full bottom lip. He’d never wanted to touch and be touched like he craved it with Gillian. She was a flame that drew him.
“What have you been up to today?”
She cocked her head at the change in subject. “Charlie and I have been washing the lighthouse storm panes and the lens.”
“Gillian…”
“Love, I promise I’ve stayed inside the lighthouse, and Charlie stood on the catwalk and used the ladder. We both wore linen smocks around the lens to keep from scratching it. All precautions were taken for our health and the lens. I wanted to help since you’re fixing up the old sloop.”
With one more swipe of his hand over her cheek he picked up a sandwich. “Thank you. It’s a good day to do it.”
Gillian sat back and picked up one of the chicken sandwiches. “It is beautiful for March. I almost left my coat at the house, but there is a chill on the breeze. Maybe we’ll be lucky and the storms will be over.”
“I suppose my turncoat wolf has been watching over you?”
“Yes, Wee Jacques has been circling the lighthouse. I think he returned to keep Charlie company when he saw I was now under your care.”
Rhys turned his face to the sun and absorbed its warmth. He smiled when he felt Gillian against him. She never remained across the table or in a chair in the sitting room if he chose the sofa. Give her five minutes and she’d be by his side.
“Maybe, but I have a feeling we’ll see at least one more. I just hope I can get the sloop ready in case it’s needed.”
“You will. What needs to be done?”
He tipped his head back down and met her gaze, giving a short laugh. “Everything. Sails need repair and new lines. Belowdecks is a mess, but that’s secondary to getting her seaworthy.”
“I can mend the sails, Rhys. The years at the factory should be worth something. It’s something I can do when I sit with you in the tower.”
“Thank you, again, Gillian. That w
ould be a great help.”
She cupped the back of his neck with one hand and raked her nails over his flesh. “And something I could do where you wouldn’t have to worry. The worst that could happen is I prick my finger.”
“You really do know me too well.”
They ate in silence for a bit, enjoying the sunshine and each other’s company. Gillian’s gaze turned to the cove and then out to the open sea. “It’s amazing how something so beautiful can turn so deadly.”
“It is, ma petite. The sea can take as quickly as she gives.”
She took his hand and held it to her heart. “She better never try to take you, or she’ll have a fight on her hands.”
“I believe she would.” He squeezed her hand. “Now, enough of that. What shall we name our sloop?”
“What were you thinking? And nothing with my name, please, or small cabbages.”
He chuckled. “No. I was thinking La Jolie Brune.”
She frowned. “The pretty brunette?” When she caught on she leaned back with her laughter. “Thank you, Rhys. But won’t your mother be upset?”
“You’re my woman, Gillian; the name of my sloop will honor you.”
Her laughter died on a sharp breath. “I love it.”
He shrugged. “It’s not a fancy name.”
“It’s beautiful. Don’t you dare change it. La Jolie Brune will carry you safely wherever you go and in whatever weather.”
Gillian felt the heat of shame touch her cheeks for laughing at Rhys’ beautiful gesture. He didn’t seem to mind and returned to his lunch. The sloop rolled as the waves slapped against her side. It was a motion that lulled Gillian back into the sense of joy she always felt in these moments with Rhys. They finished their sandwiches and the biscuits with jam.
She scanned the rocky coast watching the cormorants among the rocks. The strange birds always reminded her of the prehistoric birds she’d seen in books. Prevalent along the rocky coasts of Maine, from a distance, they appeared black, but if a person got close they were actually colorful with bright blue eyes. Gillian watched the waterfowl for a bit, then her gaze landed for a moment on the rocks where so much pain had occurred. She hadn’t even written her friends about that horrible day or about her wonderful news, either.