Heart of Oak Read Online Free PDF Page B

fire which had destroyed the Old Glebe House. The Last Cavalier, Adam had called him. Always alert, dedicated and passionate. Ageless, with his neat, rakish beard; even the paint-daubed smock he usually wore could never conceal his courtly charm. It was so easy to imagine a rapier replacing the brush.
    She had been his ward, and he had saved her life.
After I tried to end it.
    She thought of the last time she had been with Adam, at the old boatyard where Montagu had often gone when he wanted to work on a painting undisturbed. They had been alone, and became the lovers in fact that they had been in name.
    I was not afraid.
    She could hear Montagu’s voice, almost the last words he had spoken to her before the doctors had turned her away.
Destiny, my girl. Fate.
    How many times had she clung to those dying words.
    She heard some one whispering outside the door, the clink of glass or metal. It was time.
    “Thank you, Gregory. So much.”
She could see him clearly, turning from a new canvas, a quizzical smile above the jaunty beard. The Last Cavalier.

    Nancy, Lady Roxby, waited until the doors had closed behind her and held out her arms, her eyes shining with pleasure and emotion.
    “It is so good to see you, Adam!” She hugged him, imagining the smell of the sea on his clothing, her face cold against his. “You must be tired out!”
    Adam released her and looked at the girl, still standing in the arched entrance, surprised and a little unnerved by the warmth of the welcome.
    It had been mid-morning when the carriage, with Young Matthew on the box, had swung around the curved drive and pulled up beneath the leafless trees. “Grand to have you home again, Captain Bolitho!” His cold-reddened face had split into a grin, and other figures had appeared as if to a signal. Some Adam knew only by sight. Others had always been part of his life, like old Jeb Trinnick, who had been in charge of the Bolitho stables as long as any one in the family could recall. And there were faces he did not recognize, and some far older than when he had last seen them.
    In this mood it had been overwhelming, although he should have been prepared for it. A Bolitho was back from the sea.
    Smiles, shouts of greeting, others running to calm the horses. And Nancy leading the way, smiling, close to tears as he had known she would be. And then he saw Lowenna at the foot of the steps.
    Less than a year: only a dog watch, the deepwater Jacks would say, but not to those who were always left behind.
    He had held her, his hands on her waist, how long he did not know. As if they had been quite alone. She had turned her head very slightly and he had felt her shiver, or brace herself as she said, “I’ve waited…”
    He bent to kiss her cheek, but she had turned her face suddenly, and he had kissed her mouth. Like that other time…
Let them think what they like.
    And now they were here. Some one was whistling; the carriage was moving away from the entrance. He heard a dog barking somewhere and a girl laughing, cut off sharply as if admonished by one of her superiors.
    Lowenna unfastened the cloak from her shoulders. It was the same old boat cloak, cleaned and patched a few times. All those vigils along the headland or a beach somewhere, watching for the first sign of a ship.
The
ship.
    He said, “There’s so much—”
    She reached out and touched his lips. “Hold me.” She let her arms fall. “Just hold me.”
    Nancy watched them and then turned away, her heel catching on her own cloak, which she had thrown in the direction of a chair. “I must do a few things. I’ve arranged your room.”
    She picked it up. Neither of them had heard her. She was moved, and disturbed also, that she could still feel envy and loneliness.
    When she glanced back, Adam’s arms were around Lowenna without apparent pressure or insistence. One of the girl’s hands clenched slightly into a fist, and she knew that he was stroking her hair.
    There was a tang of woodsmoke in