Conflicting emotions warred on Slayde’s face. “Very well,” he said at last. “We’ll leave at first light.”
“We?” She sat bolt upright.
“We,” he repeated. “I’ll be damned if I’ll let you go alone. You need a crew? I’ll supply one: me. I’m one hell of a good navigator and I don’t require a chamber pot.” His silvery gaze narrowed in uncompromising decision. “That had best be acceptable, because it’s the only way I’ll lend you that ship.”
At that moment, Courtney loved him more than she’d ever believed it was possible to love anyone. “ ’Tis more than acceptable, my lord,” she breathed, pressing her lips to the hollow at the base of his throat. “ ’Tis another miracle.”
Chapter 11
THEIR KETCH LEFT DEVONSHIRE along with the last vestiges of darkness.
Courtney leaned against the railing, drawing her mantle more closely about her as the wind picked up, snapping the sails to life and propelling their small vessel toward its destination. She watched the Red Cliffs recede into a panoramic view, marveling at how beautiful this section of England was—how perfect for a cottage, a garden.
A home.
With a lump in her throat, she turned away, wondering if she dared any longer hope that dream could become a reality.
This trip would tell.
“Are you all right?” Slayde asked, glancing over from the helm.
“Fine.” She forced a smile. “My stomach has yet to begin lurching. When it does, you’ll see me dash below.”
“Maybe you should go to the cabin now,” Slayde returned soberly. “You look exhausted; did you shut an eye last night?”
“No.” There was no point in lying. “I couldn’t.” She walked over to stand beside him, clutching the mast and gazing out to sea. “Be careful maneuvering into the Channel. If I recall correctly, there are limestone sheets and sand traps somewhere in this area.”
Slayde arched a brow. “Thank you. But you needn’t worry. We’re heading south, away from Portland and the more precarious waters of Lyme Bay. I promise not to dash us on the rocks.”
Catching the teasing note in his voice, Courtney smiled—a genuine smile this time. “Forgive my interference. ’Twould seem you know the waters better than I.”
“Only those surrounding Devon,” he corrected. “By afternoon, I’ll be relying upon your knowledge of the Channel as it moves farther from the English shore.”
“I only hope I recall the spot where Armon attacked the Isobel.”
“You will.”
Courtney inclined her head, gazing up at him. “Elinore said you sailed a great deal as a youth.”
“I did. I enjoyed the utter solitude of being on my skiff.”
“And now?”
“Now?” He shrugged. “Mostly I travel as a passenger, to conduct business.”
“And to escape, just as you did then.”
His handsome features hardened. “Ofttimes escape is essential.”
“Other times it’s impossible.”
Silence.
“Will you tell me what you learned in London?” Courtney asked, wisely changing the subject.
“Not much. From the inquiries I made, no questionable shipments to any large European port have been arranged, nor have any large sums been re
portedly deposited or transferred. Of course, that doesn’t mean either of those two events didn’t occur. My contacts can’t ascertain the private dealings of every bank in London or the cargo of every vessel entering or leaving the city’s docks. Still, instinct tells me that had the black diamond been shipped from England, word would have leaked out. Between the huge sum involved and the age-old legend, ’tis too fascinating an occurrence to have transpired without a shred of gossip being spread.”