completely as they sang the final verses together:
If you say that you can't, then I shall reply,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Oh, let me know that at least you will try,
Or you'll never be a true love of mine.
Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
But none more than any heart would ask,
I must know you're a true love of mine.
Cassandra never faltered, her voice as strong and pure as his own, her gaze never leaving his until Eleanor said in hushed tones, "Oh, my stars."
Only then did Cassandra pull her hands free of Courtland's and run from the room.
He took two steps after her before Ainsley stood up in front of him, shook his head.
"Let her go, son. She's taking large steps, and sometimes strides of that length can put a person off balance. The same, I might say, goes for you."
"But it was wonderful to watch," Morgan trilled from behind him, and Courtland felt his shoulders stiffen as he turned toward the French doors and headed out onto the terrace, into the dark and the wind and the rain.
He strode across the stone terrace to lean his hands on the balustrade, cursing himself under his breath, cursing Morgan for her meddling, cursing the night for being so cold and wet, ruining his new jacket.
And then he raised his head, looked out into the Channel, toward a horizon devoid of stars on such a miserable night…and saw one twinkle, then disappear.
He leaned forward, straining his eyes, holding his breath. Waited.
There! He saw it again.
Not a star. A light. Shown, and then quickly shuttered. Shown again, shuttered, shown.
Then nothing, not for a full minute. Courtland knew that, because he counted off the seconds out loud along with the beat of his heart.
Again, but coming from a different spot, a good half-mile from where he'd first seen the light.
Light, darkness. Light, darkness. Light, darkness.
A signal. The signal returned. A warning: I'm here, in the dark, don't get too close; just close enough to maintain contact.
And a heartbeat later, from the harbor, where their three ships lay at anchor in front of Becket Village, came a voice, carrying clearly over the night air.
"Two sails to starboard!"
"Sonofabitch," Courtland bit out as he pushed away from the balustrade and raced into the music room, dripping rain all over the floor.
"I was wondering how long it would take to cool you down," Morgan said, laughing. "Seems not long at— Court?"
Courtland strode past her, Ethan, Spence, and Rian already on their feet, following him, while Jack reached over the back of the couch to take Eleanor's hand in his. "Sir, two ships about a mile out, running dark, but signaling each other."
Ainsley slowly got to his feet. "All right then everyone," he said, his voice as calm as if the drenched Courtland had told him it was raining. "This could be nothing more than some smuggling operation that has nothing to do with us, but we can't afford to ignore another possibility. Gentlemen, your attention, please. Rian, find Jacko. Spencer, get yourself to the village to put things into operation there. Jack, carry your wife upstairs, and then meet us, ready to hoist sail on the sloops, as they're more easily maneuverable in the dark. Ladies, your pardon. Please follow Jack, locate Cassandra. It will be your choice who remains with Eleanor and who stays in the nursery with the children."
"With Chance gone, who do you want in charge of the Spectre, sir?" Courtland asked as they made their way to the Ainsley's study. "I will gladly— "
"I'm sure you would, Courtland, thank you, but I need you here, as you're most familiar with our land defenses. Jacko will command the Spectre in Chance's place. I'll take the helm of the Respite. "
Courtland stopped so quickly that Rian barreled into his
If you say that you can't, then I shall reply,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Oh, let me know that at least you will try,
Or you'll never be a true love of mine.
Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
But none more than any heart would ask,
I must know you're a true love of mine.
Cassandra never faltered, her voice as strong and pure as his own, her gaze never leaving his until Eleanor said in hushed tones, "Oh, my stars."
Only then did Cassandra pull her hands free of Courtland's and run from the room.
He took two steps after her before Ainsley stood up in front of him, shook his head.
"Let her go, son. She's taking large steps, and sometimes strides of that length can put a person off balance. The same, I might say, goes for you."
"But it was wonderful to watch," Morgan trilled from behind him, and Courtland felt his shoulders stiffen as he turned toward the French doors and headed out onto the terrace, into the dark and the wind and the rain.
He strode across the stone terrace to lean his hands on the balustrade, cursing himself under his breath, cursing Morgan for her meddling, cursing the night for being so cold and wet, ruining his new jacket.
And then he raised his head, looked out into the Channel, toward a horizon devoid of stars on such a miserable night…and saw one twinkle, then disappear.
He leaned forward, straining his eyes, holding his breath. Waited.
There! He saw it again.
Not a star. A light. Shown, and then quickly shuttered. Shown again, shuttered, shown.
Then nothing, not for a full minute. Courtland knew that, because he counted off the seconds out loud along with the beat of his heart.
Again, but coming from a different spot, a good half-mile from where he'd first seen the light.
Light, darkness. Light, darkness. Light, darkness.
A signal. The signal returned. A warning: I'm here, in the dark, don't get too close; just close enough to maintain contact.
And a heartbeat later, from the harbor, where their three ships lay at anchor in front of Becket Village, came a voice, carrying clearly over the night air.
"Two sails to starboard!"
"Sonofabitch," Courtland bit out as he pushed away from the balustrade and raced into the music room, dripping rain all over the floor.
"I was wondering how long it would take to cool you down," Morgan said, laughing. "Seems not long at— Court?"
Courtland strode past her, Ethan, Spence, and Rian already on their feet, following him, while Jack reached over the back of the couch to take Eleanor's hand in his. "Sir, two ships about a mile out, running dark, but signaling each other."
Ainsley slowly got to his feet. "All right then everyone," he said, his voice as calm as if the drenched Courtland had told him it was raining. "This could be nothing more than some smuggling operation that has nothing to do with us, but we can't afford to ignore another possibility. Gentlemen, your attention, please. Rian, find Jacko. Spencer, get yourself to the village to put things into operation there. Jack, carry your wife upstairs, and then meet us, ready to hoist sail on the sloops, as they're more easily maneuverable in the dark. Ladies, your pardon. Please follow Jack, locate Cassandra. It will be your choice who remains with Eleanor and who stays in the nursery with the children."
"With Chance gone, who do you want in charge of the Spectre, sir?" Courtland asked as they made their way to the Ainsley's study. "I will gladly— "
"I'm sure you would, Courtland, thank you, but I need you here, as you're most familiar with our land defenses. Jacko will command the Spectre in Chance's place. I'll take the helm of the Respite. "
Courtland stopped so quickly that Rian barreled into his
Similar Books
