Chapter 51
Sterling’s hand curls around mine. “There’s no time. If you really want to know about him, we must hide.”
I go to reenter my room, but Sterling stops me.
“They’ll look there first. Come.”
We run down the hall and take the closest room, which is usually an unattended guest room, but it’s, unfortunately, not unattended. It’s empty, but there are trunks and fine clothes about, making it clear whose room it is.
“It must be Prince Lachlan’s room.”
“I …” Sterling stands frozen in place. “We shouldn’t be here.”
It’s my turn to stop him. “You promised. Now tell me what is going on.”
“The prince and I know each other.”
“Yes, that much is obvious. I mentioned your name earlier, and he—”
“What?” It’s the most eager I’ve seen him.
“He pretended he didn’t know you, but I could tell he was lying.”
Everything that was open in his expression shutters closed. There’s no sadness in the fall of his shoulders, only resignation.
“I knew him in Chance. We were … close. I had a choice, and I chose duty over him.”
So, that’s why …
Oh, Sterling. Oh, Lucky.
“That is why I cannot accompany you. It’s simply too painful.”
Everything makes sense now. “I’m sorry.”
Sterling shakes his head. “Thank you, but it is I who should apologize.”
“Perhaps there is another way. You could tell him how you feel, and we could speak with Louis—”
“No, it’s too late for that. Even if the wedding were called off, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”
A familiar voice stops my heart. “Are you talking about me, or is there another man whose heart you broke beyond repair?”
I didn’t even hear the door open, but it must have because there Lucky is, openly staring at Sterling with pain clear on his face.
“I was a coward,” Sterling says, not yet facing him. “You deserved better.”
I dare not interrupt, but there is noise in the hallway, and my gut is telling me that if we are found, any hope these two have of talking will evaporate. Fortunately, Lucky blinks out of his stunned stupor, quietly closing the door.
“Yes, you were, and I did. So did you.” He looks uneasy in the space, his gaze darting around at his trunk, the bed, the floor. Me. Landing on Sterling in between each item, as though he must check he’s still here. “You knew I was here, in Ferntree.”
Sterling nods.
A breath rushes out of Lucky. “Right.”
He walks over to the fireplace, leaning a hand on the mantel, looking like a man ready to crumple under the slightest weight. It’s awful and so far from the man I met earlier that I hate to see it.
“I wanted to talk to you. I wrote you a hundred times, but no words ever seemed like enough. Sorry never seemed enough.”
“Better to make me think you were ignoring me or dead. Did it mean anything to you?” Bitterness laces Lucky’s tone.
“It meant everything to me.”
There has to be a way to fix this. To save them from themselves.
Because if anything is obvious to me now, it’s that they are too stubborn for their own good. I could call off the wedding. Louis would be disappointed, but he’d get over it. It would be the right thing to do, to get out of the way.
Except look at them. Steps apart, clearly drawn to each other, but they can’t even look at each other. If I call this wedding off, all that will happen is that Lucky will sail back home, and the two of them will continue this miserable dance until one or both of them are dead.
I refuse to let them.
I walk to the door, my steps trampling over my own feelings in the process, but they’re not important right now. I’ll have plenty of time to rest my wounded heart in Chance—after I’ve righted this wrong.
“I’m going to find my brother, let him know I’m not well. The wedding will continue tomorrow, but there will be three of us traveling back to Chance, not two.”
My gut is telling me Lucky is a good man, one who deserves the choice Sterling took from him. “Unless you have any objections?”
The tight line of his shoulders softens as he steps close, raising my hand to his lips for a gentle kiss. Thank you, it says as loudly as if he’d spoken the words.
His palms are rough from sailing, but warm. Tender goose bumps rise along my arms as he trails his thumb across my skin.
“Not a single one,” he says. “I gave you my word to be a good husband, and I’ll give it again, now and tomorrow. I only wish for your happiness, and I will do everything I can to ensure your life is as comfortable as possible.”
I nod. There’s only one way I can see that occurring, and I’m going to do everything in my power to make it happen.
* * *
The wedding is a simple affair. We hold it in the courtyard, now clear of dust and debris, a local officiant presiding and my family in attendance. We swap vows of commitment, sign the paperwork, and it’s done.
No feast, no kiss, no issues. It’s all very polite, as long as you ignore the hulking mass of dismay in the corner.
Sterling has said very little since last night. He and Lucky appear to have reached a mutual agreement to accept each other’s presence, but do no more than that. I barely restrain myself from rolling my eyes during the ceremony.
We travel three days by road and seven by sea.
It takes two sunrises to gain my sea legs—a fact that amuses the rest of the ship’s small crew.
By the third morning, I’m glad I no longer need to greet the water with the contents of the previous night’s dinner, and I can finally start pulling my weight, shadowing whichever crew will let me and following their lead.
The horizon stretches unfathomably far.
The ocean greets us like an old friend and holds us calmly as we sail, which I’m reminded—many, many times—is a good sign. Salt stings my eyes and nose, but it’s worth it to witness Lucky in his element. He leads well, and the crew trusts him.
But it’s the view that steals my breath. All that’s before us is sea, on and on. More water than I could have imagined. It must be endless. I’ve never seen anything like it, even in my dreams.
“Terrifyingly beautiful, isn’t it?” Lucky asks on one of the occasions he catches me staring.
It is.
At night, the stars track our progress and serve as a reminder of forces beyond our reach.
I’ve long known my purpose would be to leave Ferntree, to stand as consult to the assembly with the knowledge and honor of our province.
I believed myself prepared to leave behind the flat farmland and familiar faces of my home, but as our destination approaches, awareness rushes in.
Nothing will be familiar anymore. I must conduct myself in respect of that which I do not know and learn all I can.
The task alone does not daunt me, although I must admit to a growing loneliness that’s taken root beside my heart.
The crew is friendly, if brash, and Lucky is exceedingly welcoming, answering every question I have and even teaching me to steer and navigate.
I took him to be improper, uncaring of courtesy, but I see now he’s a man of rules when it suits him.
Gone is the stifling propriety that he adopted in front of my family, shed as soon as his boots touched the worn tread of the deck.
Where he once came across cavalier, he’s now relaxed and generous.
“You’ve taken to this well,” he says, smiling.
The sun is finally relenting after a day of bearing its full weight upon us. Not a person among the crew, including myself, is without a thick sheen of sweat. I long for a bath. Lucky wears exertion well, his shirt plastered to his firm chest and slender waist.
“Dare I say, you have begun to enjoy it?”
“It has its merits,” I admit and delight when he laughs.
“Indeed, it does.”
Tomorrow, we’ll reach the cove, and as such, morale is high among the crew. Someone hands Lucky an instrument I’ve never seen, and he leads the rest in a bawdry shanty that makes the tips of Sterling’s ears pink. I can’t wait to tell Louis about it in a letter.
Sterling is starboard, brooding. Since we left Ferntree, he has draped himself in a blanket of solitude, even though he never lets me out of his sight.
Admittedly, I don’t want him out of mine either.
He is already watching me when our eyes meet.
I offer him a smile he doesn’t return, but he does not turn away, exuding the same intensity he always has.
There’s something there I can’t decipher, hidden in the darkness, writ large in his expression.
I miss him dearly.
Oh, how I long to know what he is thinking.
Lucky tears himself from the group and finds me at the bow. He leans his weight on the railing beside me. Once, my future appeared as vast and endless as the horizon. Now, the shape of it has coalesced into that of two men, both of whom are as bound to each other as they are to me.
I only wish the prospect brought all of us more joy.
“I see he is the same as I remember. Not one for revelry.”
“Challenge him to a duel. That usually puts him in a good mood.”
Lucky chuckles, the sound lost to the breeze. “Let me guess. He let you win as well.”
“Yes! Did he also compare your footwork to a newborn foal?”
“I believe mine was akin to a freshly hatched duckling.”
I return his grin with my own. It’s nice to talk to someone who knows Sterling, who understands what it’s like to be in his orbit, under his thrall. “I’d like to see that sometime.”
“If you think you can take me,” he says, and the delicious curl of his mouth sends my pulse into the heavens. “But I promise you, I do not yield lightly.”
The moon paints his lips with a gentle brush, coating them in silver. I can’t seem to look away.
“We shall see,” I reply.
“We will.”
Perhaps another man would let the shadows cover my darkened cheeks, but Lucky isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met. My eyes fall closed as he reaches up to touch me, skimming his thumb over the heated skin.
“Does it scare you to leave home?”
It should perhaps, but not anymore. It’s easier with Sterling here.