Chapter 24
24
T he next morning, Isabella appeared to have enjoyed a reasonable night’s sleep, even though she was still wearing the same traveling dress. Her hair was pinned up in a tidy chignon—at least, Gibb imagined it had been. There wasn’t much of her hair to be seen beneath her bonnet. He, on the other hand, had spent countless hours tossing and turning and wondering how he had ended up on the wrong end of the woman’s ire after having nearly incited a war for her sake.
She gazed to the shore expectantly while the men rowed the skiff. Miss Hatch had opted to stay behind, since Gowan was remaining aboard as officer of the watch. “Look there,” Isabella said, pointing. “I can see the canvas of our tent flapping in the wind.”
Gibb clenched his fists, fuming about how much danger she’d placed herself in—and how little remorse she seemed to harbor about it. He never would have been able to live with himself if she’d been hurt.
After they arrived on the beach, he led her to the campsite while the men followed with a few tools they might need for an excavation. The tent sagged, its stakes nearly wrenched from their moorings—that or they hadn’t been properly driven into the ground in the first place. It didn’t matter. The tent looked as sorry and abandoned as Isabella had when he first found her.
Together they climbed the sand dune and crossed to the campsite.
“Good gracious.” Isabella clapped her hands over her mouth. “I feel so foolish.”
No matter how much he agreed with those words, Gibb wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and kiss her. But gone was the doe-eyed lass who had kissed him on the deck of the Prosperity . Circumstances had changed her, and he sensed she still would not welcome his affection. Besides, it was broad daylight and they were accompanied by a half-dozen sailors.
Given the situation, Gibb did the only suitable thing he could think of. He placed his hand on her arm and held it firm, praying it imparted a modicum of the tenderness in his heart. “You were following your dreams. Most men would never muster the fortitude or determination to set out on a journey as perilous as this. And ye ken most women sit beside their hearths content with their embroidery—very few could even imagine traveling to a remote beach in Spain.”
A sad smile turned up her lips. But as her dark gaze gradually meandered upward and met his, a spark ignited deep in his heart. Taking in a deep breath, he summoned a smile as well, and patted her arm. “I’ll have a wee peek inside.”
“I doubt you’ll find anything.”
Regardless, he parted the flap and popped his head in. “Perhaps I do believe in miracles,” he said with a grin, holding the canvas wide to reveal her trunk. “It looks as if you’ll have a change of clothes whilst we conduct our survey.”
“Thank heavens.”
Gibb turned to the crewmen and took one of their shovels. “Lads, take Mrs. Schuyler’s things aboard the ship and return anon. The lady and I have some exploring to do.”
“What about the tent, Cap’n?” asked Duncan.
“Reseat the spikes. We’ll leave it be for now.” Spreading his palms wide, Gibb regarded Isabella. “So, this is where we ought to start searching?”
“I think so. Aside from Platja de la Devesa, Marcus mentioned goats and chickens and a house upon a knoll.”
“Hopefully you’ve pinpointed the spot. There’s about sixty miles between Valencia and the promontory at Xàbia. It would take a thousand men years to excavate that much land.”
“Then let us not delay.”
Gibb offered his elbow. “Shall we, madam?”
She pointed to a hillock. “Perhaps we ought to begin there,” she said, placing her fingers on his arm, her mere touch making his heart race.
He drew in a deep breath, willing his heart to slow, though it did little good. “It seems you have endured your share of calamity over the past few months.”
“I must admit, I didn’t expect any of it, starting with my father coming into my bedchamber and telling me he had agreed to Mr. Schuyler’s suit of marriage.”
“The miner seemed like a fit man—agreeable as well, which is why I resolved to leave you in his care. I hope my impression of him was not misguided.”
“No. I think he was kind—very kind to be forthright.”
“Oh?” Gibb asked, shifting her hand to his as they negotiated the craggy ground on the slope.
“Were you aware that the state of Georgia abolished primogeniture in seventeen seventy-seven?”
“Truly? I had no idea.”
“They did. And furthermore, prior to my arrival, Mr. Schuyler took steps to ensure I would live in luxury after his death—though the poor man had no idea that he wouldn’t live long enough to…”
“Hmm?” Gibb asked, but, noticing her blush, he knew better than to ask her to explain. She had already said the man had collapsed just as they walked out of the church. There was no chance the miner would have been able to consummate the marriage. “So, once you received your inheritance, you decided to stage an expedition?”
“Yes.” After cresting the hill, they stopped at an outcropping. Isabella released his hand and took a few steps away, sweeping her gaze across the sea. “The view from here is astonishing.”
Gibb rested the shovel against the rock, then also looked across the scene. From this point, the beach stretched north and south as far as the eye could see. And beyond were the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea, with the Prosperity waiting at anchor. In the vast expanse, the ship seemed so small.
“I owe you an apology,” Isabella whispered beside him.
Gibb’s attention reverted to her lovely face, framed by a wind-blown curls beneath the brim of her bonnet. As he looked into Isabella’s eyes, nothing mattered except for this woman here, at this moment. “Oh?” he asked, wanting to know more, his heart hammering with the thread of hope that she might still harbor a modicum of fondness for him.
“The newspaper article tainted my impression of you, and once I learned the truth, it took me some time to sort out my emotions.”
He placed a hand on the stone beside her ear while tucking a black curl into her hat. “If it helps at all, I never once stopped thinking of you, no matter how much I tried.”
“Which is why you came here?”
“Aye.” Gibb’s gaze slipped to her lips, and she rewarded him by licking that sensual mouth, bringing a moist sparkle to her lips. “Dunna ask me why. Mayhap I felt standing here would somehow make me feel closer to you.”
She placed her palm atop his thundering heart. “Leaving you in Savannah was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done—but you are aware I had no choice.”
He dipped his chin and shifted his head to the side, moving so close that her breath skimmed his chin. “I ken.”
With Gibb’s next heartbeat, she rose and closed the distance, sealing her lips to his, timidly at first. But the word timid seemed to slip from Gibb’s vocabulary. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to devour her. He crooked his finger beneath her chin and tilted her face up just enough, sealing his lips over hers, demanding that she match his fervor.
It took but a tiny sigh before desire consumed him, and as the kiss grew in intensity, she slid her hands around his waist and clung to him. Lush breasts molded perfectly into his chest while he continued with his plunder, challenging her to match him stroke for stroke.
And she did.
Their bodies fused together, his harder than he’d ever been in all his days.
When finally he eased his lips away and met her heavy-lidded gaze, Gibb knew this woman had claimed his heart as well as his soul. He just had no idea what he was to do about it. Turn against his hard and fast rule to remain a bachelor and propose?
Have I lost my bloody mind?
But the answer drifted out to sea while Gibb’s gaze settled upon the stone beneath his palm. “Isabella, I believe you are positively brilliant.”
She giggled. “Though no one dislikes being told they are brilliant, it is rather an unusual endearment after imparting such a passionate kiss.”
“Might I rephrase: your kisses make my knees melt into liquid honey, and your brilliance surpasses that of every scholar I’ve ever met.” He gripped a handful of vines and pulled them away. “This stone wasna put here by God. ’Tis man-made for certain.”
With a sharp gasp, Isabella turned and traced her finger along a crack in the white rock. “This is marble.”
Gibb drew his dirk and cut away vines and brush.
Isabella helped to pull the debris away. “It is the top of a pillar.”
With the shovel, Gibb cleared a bit of dirt around it. “I reckon most of it is buried.”
“The ruins we discovered on Papa’s lands were as well. The excavation took over a year.”
“Once I have the crew working on it, we ought to go quickly enough.” He dug down about three feet and hit something hard, making the shovel clang.
“What was that?” Isabella asked, bending over the hole.
“A stone.” He tapped it with the toe of his boot. “A big one.”
“Wait a moment. Let me see it.”
Gibb made the hole wider, then helped the lady down. Isabella took out a handkerchief and brushed away the moist dirt. “This is marble as well—it must be part of the pillar.” She straightened and clapped her hands. “Oh my heavens, we truly are onto something!”
Gibb lifted her up and into his arms, twirling in a circle. “I kent you were brilliant!”