“A toast!” Sinclair said.
Tony stood to grab a jug of cider from a passing footman, and stayed standing. “I saw your first mate and gunner earlier,” he said, looking over the crowd toward the back lawn. “It appears another of your crew has come to the party.”
Nick rose partway from his chair to have a look, expecting to see Big Jim, though he usually stayed the first night ashore in the barn with the goats, then stood so fast his chair tipped over backward.
With brown hair in a queue topped with a blue knit cap, wearing a navy peacoat and duck trousers, a large knapsack slung over one shoulder, it did appear as though another sailor had just arrived at the festival.
From the footbridge over the brook.
Heart pounding, Nick ran.
Chapter 26
Harriet climbed the rise from the brook, wooden treads set into the hillside making it obvious the path was old and oft used, and surveyed the crowd with dismay. The butler at Zach’s house had only said that Mr. Langston was visiting next door and directed her to the footpath. He didn’t mention the large party in progress. How was she to find Zach in this sea of people?
Maybe she’d help herself to a plate of food and warm herself by one of the fires while she searched. No one had given her a second glance. There were guests from every social strata dancing and mingling on the lawn. Even wearing sailor’s garb, she blended in. She’d warm up and get a hot meal, find Zach and say goodbye, and leave. She could still walk a mile or two farther on her journey before stopping for the night.
Before she could put her plan in motion, one figure headed straight for her at a dead run. The crowd parted to allow him passage.
She froze. Should she race back down to the brook and find a hiding spot among the trees or in the treetops, or stand and prepare to fight?
The tall, broad figure thundering toward her was a blur until a last bit of setting sun broke through the clouds behind him and glinted off his gold hoop earring.
Nick.
Her breath caught.
He halted in front of her, searching her face as though to make certain of her identity, his eyes wild, his chest heaving, before he cupped her cheeks with both hands and swooped in to claim her mouth in a toe-curling kiss.
The familiar thrill coursed through her. She dropped her knapsack and kissed him back with equal abandon, letting him in as she wrapped one hand behind his neck, the other reaching in under his coat and around his waist to pull him closer. The world narrowed to the sensations of their kiss—exploring his chipped tooth with her tongue, his big hands holding her. She tugged on the ribbon tying back his hair and freed it, letting the strands fan out loose over her hand, twining her fingers in it. When he growled approvingly deep in his throat, she felt it more than heard it.
One of his hands slid down to caress the side of her neck, his thumb stroking along her jaw, the other hand sliding down to the small of her back. She felt cherished. Desired.
She wasn’t sure how long the kiss went on, but gradually she became aware the hubbub of conversation had died away. The musicians stopped playing.
“Nicholas!” came one shocked female voice. “What are you doing?”
“Heard them sailing folk had odd appetites. Didn’t think they’d indulge while at home, though,” said another voice nearby, an older male. Other people murmured comments in a similar vein. Heat flooded Harriet’s cheeks.
She broke the kiss and withdrew. Nick followed and kissed her again until she planted her palm in the center of his chest and pushed. “We’re making a spectacle of ourselves,” she whispered.
He slowly opened his eyes, looking a bit dazed. He licked his lips, distracting her all over again, and he finally glanced around, seeing the crowd that was drawing near. He gave the musicians an imperious gesture. “Play on!”
They started another jig. Nick grabbed her hand and led her down to the brook. People could still gawk if they peered over the bank, but at least the sound of the babbling water would keep their conversation private.
At the water’s edge, still holding her hand, Nick reached up with his other hand to cup her cheek and lean in for another kiss.
Her heart breaking anew, she took a step back. “Nothing has changed between us,” she said in a broken whisper. She cleared her throat of the lump that had risen. “I came to say goodbye to Zach. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He didn’t release her. “Zach?” The shadows made it hard to read his expression, but his grip on her hand remained firm. Possessive.
She breathed deep, filling her lungs with the scent of fresh water and damp earth and courage. “When he took me home, he asked that I let him know if I was going to leave Brixham. I’ve signed on as a landsman on a barkentine out of Plymouth. We sail for Athens in five days. I’ve never been to the Mediterranean. At least, not that I was old enough to remember.” She’d had trouble deciphering the little map Zach had drawn on the back of his card. Now she understood why he’d been vague about his address. If she’d known Nick lived so close, she would have written a letter instead of coming in person.
His fingers tightened on hers. “Don’t go.”
She shook her head. “Gabriel is back in school now. I’ve paid this quarter’s mortgage. I should be back before the next is due and my wages will cover it. There are enough funds leftover to meet Mama and Gabriel’s living expenses until then if they’re frugal.” She swallowed hard. “There’s nothing to keep me here.”
He raised their linked hands to drop a kiss on her knuckles. “Except me.”
