Enchanted by Your Kisses (40 page)

And the answer to that was always no, she would not be happy. She knew that as surely as she knew the sun would rise. And then everything seemed so simple. If she loved him, she would go to him. He was a free man now, out of her father's reach. She would go to him and explain, leave
England
, never to return again. And though she would miss Phoebe, she would miss little else, most especially the man who sat before her.

"Ariel, what are you plotting?"

She smiled, a smug smile, one to set him on edge with worry. "A voyage, Father."

"A voyage? To where?"

But surely he must know. "Why, to the colonies, where else?" She settled back in her seat, enjoying the moment. "It dawned on me whilst I lay in bed that I am no longer a little girl. I can do as I wish, and that includes leaving a country and a man who have done nothing but hurt me. Frankly, I am surprised the idea has not crossed my mind before."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Oh, yes, I would."

He shot up from his chair. Ariel thought he might come around the end of his desk and grab her. His face had turned red, a vein popping out on his forehead. That he'd gone into a sudden, instant rage there could be no doubt.

Oddly enough, she felt no fear. Just a deep, wonderful sense of satisfaction.

"What, Father, no threats?" She lifted a brow. "Oh, but that's right, you've nothing left to threaten me with, have you? Already you've done your worst." She slowly stood. "Now let me do mine."

She placed her hands on his desk, leaning across it. "I am leaving, and nothing you might say can stop me. The carriage is outside, and in a matter of hours all of
London
will know that the First Lord's daughter has left
England
to become the lover of a patriot spy." She straightened, standing before him proudly, daring him to say something. When he didn't, her smile turned a bit sad. "Good-bye, Father. Though you never did tell me why you hate me so, know that despite what you've done, I
do
love you."

She turned, paused, swiveled back to face him. "And do not worry, sir, for I'm sure you can have it put about that I've lost my mind. Your career should not suffer too much." She turned back to the door.

"Ariel, wait."

She almost didn't listen, but some urge, some long-forgotten compulsion that dated back to childhood, made her turn again.

"Do not do this," he begged, his blue eyes boring into hers.

She gave him a sad smile. "Begging, Father?"

"No, appealing to your loyalty as my daughter."

"Just as I appealed to your loyalty as a father. Oh, wait. '
Twas
not your loyalty I begged for, 'twas your love. But I should have known better than to do that, shouldn't I? You haven't loved me from the start."

"How could I when you took the one woman I ever loved away?" And the words came out as a rasp.

She felt her mouth open in shock. So that was it. That was all it was. She'd been responsible for her mother's death, and he held it against her. How could he be so selfish? A sadness overtook her. Didn't he realize she would rather she had died being born than live with the responsibility of causing someone's death? That she felt like an orphan without her mother and without her father's love.

Apparently not.

"Then we are even, Father," she said. "For you took away the only man I will ever love." She turned to the door.

"Don't go," he repeated.

She ignored him.

"Ariel, please."

Something in the tone caught her attention, something that tugged at her in a way she would never have thought possible. Slowly, reluctantly, telling herself she was a fool for opening herself up to more of his hateful words, she turned.

He cried.

She'd
never
seen her father cry.

"I loved her desperately, Ariel," he said in a low voice. "You do understand that, do you not?"

"Aye. As much as I love Nathan," she answered proudly.

He stared at her a long, long moment, Ariel's breath quickening with every moment that passed. Something was changing in his face, something she hardly dared believe.

"I'll need to send a note to Lord
Dunsmeer
. He runs the harbor in
Portsmouth
and can tell you which ships will be the fastest to the colonies." He was straightening, once again becoming the First Lord, even though his eyes still shone red with tears. "I'll send him a note straightaway."

Ariel stared at her father in disbelief. "Oh, Papa," she murmured, his face growing blurry through her tears. "You're going to help me."

He nodded, though he didn't look at her. "I would rather have you gone than live the rest of your life with half a heart, as I have done."

Tears fell down her cheeks. "Oh, Papa," she gushed. As if in a dream she found
heself
racing into his arms. He didn't hold her at first, but then she felt his arms slowly move around her. They tightened, then tightened even more.

"Go, Ariel. Be happy. Goodness knows you've earned it."

Her tears came harder, and it was then that Ariel
D'Archer
, daughter to the earl of Bettencourt, realized she was not an orphan after all.

The ship crashed through the wave, sea foam hitting Nathan in the face with an icy slap. But Nathan didn't care, for with each bob of the prow he traveled further and further away from her. Further away from the black-hearted bitch he'd fallen in love with.

A woman who gave you your brother back,
said a voice.

Oh, aye, she'd done that. And for that he was grateful. Her parting gift to him. How touching.

"Sir?"

Nathan turned, having to pry his hands away from the rail.

"Come quick, sir. He is awake."

Nathan jolted alert.
Wess
awake? Could such a miracle have happened?

Judging by the smiling look on the doctor's face, it had.

He followed quickly along the rail of the deck, then down some stairs to the private quarters below. He'd been fortunate to find a doctor willing to set sail with them, though Nathan had wondered at the necessity of it—especially since his brother had made little improvement since they'd left
Brighton
. He'd needed a physician, and the good doctor was the only one willing to go. But Nathan would pay him double his wages if his brother was indeed awake.

He was.

Nathan could see it the moment he entered their brightly lit cabin, lantern light seeming to illuminate every corner.

"
Wess
?" he called out. His brother's face was still bruised, even after two weeks at sea. But his cuts looked better. For that he could thank the good doctor, too.

"Where is she?" his brother rasped.

Nathan stared down at him in surprise. "Where is who?"

"The angel who rescued me from the bowels of that hellhole, HMS
Destiny.
I wish to thank her."

Nathan drew back in shock. "Lady
D'Archer
?"

"Aye, that is her, for I heard the naval cur who came to get me call her so. Where is she?"

Nathan's face suddenly felt frozen. Any joy he felt at having his brother awaken temporarily faded. "She is not here."

Now it was
Wess's
turn to look confused. "But she must be."

"I assure you she is not."

"But how can that be when I heard her tell that naval scum of a captain how much she loved you?"

The words were slow to sink in. "She
what?"

Wess
motioned with a shaking hand for water. Nathan hurriedly complied, helping his brother drink. When he finished, he looked a bit better.

"
Wess
, you must tell me what you heard."

His brother nodded, seeming to understand the urgency of the situation. "I was barely awake," he murmured. "They'd starved me of food for days. It seemed like it all happened in a dream. But it was when we were in the carriage on our way to you. She was thanking the man who accompanied her for letting her go along. She said she was grateful that he knew what it was like to leave a loved one. I assumed she was talking about you."

Nathan sat there, stunned, the breath knocked out of him.

"She was crying, too, I seem to recall. I couldn't understand why, if, as she said, you two were in love. And then the man said something about a deal she'd made with her father. A deal that she could not break if she wanted to see you escape with your life."

"Damnation!" Nathan exclaimed.

Is he forcing you to stay?
he had asked.

No, the decision was mine to make,
she'd responded.

It had been her choice. Her choice to sacrifice her love so that he could have his freedom and his brother back. Her choice to live her life, knowing she'd made him hate her. Her choice to never know love again, for as surely as he knew what she'd done, he knew her love was true.

"Damnation," he repeated, shock, hope and amazement forcing him to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to
England
."

"To
England
?"

"Aye, to the woman I love."

The streets of
Portsmouth
were more crowded than the last time Ariel had visited. Or perhaps it was simply that she was more aware of them. Ariel stared out of the carriage window, observing the myriad colors the ladies wore as they walked by store fronts. Her own off-white gown with black trim would hardly make a splash against the colors she saw. Even the gentlemen looked colorful. ‘
Twas
the last time she would ever see these streets, Ariel thought, feeling melancholy, for when she left on this afternoon's tide she would never return. Even now her father was waiting for her at an inn while she gathered some last-minute supplies. And though she should look forward to her future with Nathan, there still remained the question of whether or not he would forgive her.

Pray God he would.

The coach passed more shops. A sudden urge made Ariel tell the coachman to stop. She'd planned on sending Phoebe something from the colonies, but she would send her cousin something now, too, something that begged Phoebe's forgiveness for refusing to take Phoebe with her to
Portsmouth
. Two weeks she'd had to wait for a ship to take her to the
Americas
. Two weeks of knowing she'd have to say good-bye. Two weeks of dreading that good-bye. How could she explain to her kind-hearted cousin that saying good-bye in
Portsmouth
would have been harder than in town, especially since saying good-bye to her father would be hard enough? Phoebe had been hurt, Ariel hurting along with her. She would miss her darling cousin more than any other person in
England
, even more than the father she'd come to know in the past weeks.

"Come back for me here in one hour," she instructed, as she was handed down from the carriage.

The coachman nodded, Ariel adjusting her gown as she stepped upon the pavement. The shop she'd spied prior to stopping lay across the street. A sweet shop, something Phoebe was never able to resist. She would send her something from there.