Page 61 of Scoundrel Take Me Away (Dukes in Disguise #3)
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lucy stood on the deck of the Catarina and let the bracing spray of the English Channel lash across her face and pull her hair free of its pins.
The passenger ferry, the first ship upon which Lucy had been able to secure passage, was bound for Calais.
From there, she would travel south and east, through northern France, skirting Switzerland, to reach another ferry that would traverse the Adriatic Sea to deposit Lucy in Constantinople.
She thought perhaps she might stop a while in Athens on the way.
She would decide later, once the thrill of freedom and excitement of travel came back to her. Which it surely would. Eventually.
Sighing, Lucy tasted salt on the breeze. They’d only just departed from the wharf at Dover. Gulls cried overhead, wheeling and dipping, and all around her, sailors shouted to one another and went about their business.
The rest of the passengers had retreated belowdecks at once, some of them looking quite green about the gills, but Lucy fared better in the open air.
And if she stood facing England, feeling her heart squeeze as the white cliffs of Dover receded ever smaller in the distance, well, that was her own affair.
Tomorrow , she promised herself . Tomorrow, I’ll look forward. Tomorrow I’ll face the future.
For today, she would keep her eyes on England for as long as she could see it.
So intent was she on the shore, it took her a long time to notice that the speck on the horizon behind the ferry was another ship.
The Channel was one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world; it wasn’t at all uncommon to pass near merchant vessels, military ships, and other passenger ferries. What was unusual was the speed at which this particular ship seemed to be sailing.
And how quickly it was gaining on the Catarina .
Gripping the railing, Lucy hung on as the ferry plunged through the churning waters, and watched as the ship following them came closer and closer.
For some reason, her heart began to pound in her chest as she stared at the approaching vessel. She didn’t know anything about different types of boats, but it looked sleeker and smaller than the passenger ferry, and clearly it was capable of going quite a bit faster.
As it pulled alongside the ferry, the crews hailed one another back and forth across the water. But it wasn’t until Lucy lifted her hand to shade her eyes against the glare of sun off the water that she realized there was a man standing in the bow of the ship.
Legs planted like oaks, one arm wrapped in the rigging of the mainsail to brace himself, he was leaning forward as though he could will the ship faster.
A surge of joy and disbelief sent a wave of chills through Lucy’s body in the instant before she consciously noted the sun glinting off the gold of the man’s hair.
It couldn’t be.
Thornecliff had mentioned, more than once, that he refused to ever board a ship. And after finding out he’d been kept locked in one—after finding out his parents had died in a rough crossing on this very same stretch of water—Lucy had understood why.
It could not be him.
But it was.
“Lively!” The shout carried across the open water between them, making Lucy’s eyes tear and her breath come in great, gasping gulps. “Lively!”
“Gabriel,” she cried back, frantic, suddenly, to get to him. Flagging down a passing sailor, she begged, “Please, sir, oh please, can you ask the captain to slow down? Or stop? My—my— Oh, God! The man I love is on that ship!”
“Can’t stop, my lady,” the sailor said, looking highly entertained but regretful. “Got a timetable to keep. Captain won’t stop for nothing.”
But Gabriel would hate being on that boat, Lucy knew. Desperation welled in her chest. “Oh, but we must stop! At least slow, so the other ship can send him over in a rowboat or something. Please, you must listen to me?—”
The sailor, a brown-skinned man so weather-beaten he could have been anywhere from twenty-two to sixty-two, looked at something over her shoulder that made his eyes goes wide. He grinned down at her with his tongue poking into the gap between his two front teeth.
“Ah, lady, no need for a rowboat! Your man’s decided to swim fer it!”
With a gasp, Lucy rushed to the side of the ferry in time to see Gabriel climb nimbly up into the rigging of his ship, high enough to execute a perfect dive into the roiling waters of the Channel.
She cried out in panic, her heart in her throat and her gaze scanning the water where he’d gone in until his head broke the surface.
He started swimming toward the ferry with strong, determined strokes, cleaving through the water, and Lucy lost her head.
Stripping off her boots and traveling cloak and unhooking the heavy skirt from the bodice of her dress until she was in nothing but pantaloons and chemise, she clambered up onto the railing of the ferry.
Ignoring the shouts of the sailor behind her and the hands that reached to try to stop her, Lucy looked down at Gabriel slicing through the waves and threw herself toward him.
The icy waters of the Channel closed over her head, a shock so great that Lucy almost forgot to kick until her lungs began to burn. It took several pumps of her legs, working against the wicked currents, but she managed to get her face above water and drag in a heaving breath.
“Lively,” she heard again, the shout nearer than before, and she struck out blindly in the direction of the beloved voice.
“Gabriel,” she called back, again and again, her arms and legs moving ceaselessly, her breath sawing in and out of her lungs. She was tiring more quickly than she would have dreamed, fear beginning to take hold, when a pair of strong arms circled her and hauled her in against a broad chest.
She gasped with relief and delirious happiness even as Gabriel’s voice snarled in her ear, “You little fool! What the devil were you thinking?”
“That I couldn’t wait one more moment to be in your arms again,” she managed through chattering teeth.
Her lips were surely turning blue, her hair draggling in her eyes, but when she blinked the salt water out of her lashes, she saw that he was staring at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Giddy joy fizzed in her veins. “Why? What were you thinking?”
“That I couldn’t let you get one fucking inch farther away from me.”
“Oh, Gabriel,” she sobbed, pressing her cold lips to his wet cheeks, the golden scruff on his jaw, the salty softness of his lips.
She stopped even pretending to swim, relying on the motion of his powerful legs to keep them afloat while their respective ships raced to lower lifeboats and rescue them.
Let them , Lucy thought, filled with hope. We already rescued each other.
“There is more to me than the man I was without my memories,” he said, the words sounding painful as they scraped their way out of his throat. “Too much has happened. I’ve done things… Christ. Things I regret. I can’t be that easy, uncomplicated man anymore.”
“I don’t want easy or uncomplicated,” Lucy told him.
“But all the things I loved about Gabriel are still a part of the man you are now. All the things I loved about The Gentle Rogue, too. You wore so many masks, all the time, to keep those parts of yourself separate and hidden, to pretend they didn’t even exist.”
“But you’ve unmasked me,” he said, hoarse and thick with feeling.
“I told you I would.” At this moment, Lucy felt as if she could fly. “You told me you’d never get on a ship. But you did.”
“For you.”
“For me,” she breathed. She searched his face, so handsome, so beloved. His eyes were clear and dark as he stared back at her.
“I would do anything for you,” he said. “Face any fear, brave any danger. I don’t know if that makes me a man who can be worthy of you.”
Lucy clutched at him, concerned. “You’re not about to try to be noble and claim I’m better off without you, or some rubbish like that, are you?”
“God, no.” He smiled, bright and gorgeous and real. “Have you met me? No, I make no claims to nobility. If you wanted a hero, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. I’ve got you now, and I’m far too selfish to let you go.”
“Good,” Lucy said fiercely. “Villains are always the most interesting characters anyway.”
She kissed him again, pouring her heart and all her love into it. She didn’t stop kissing him until the rowboat arrived and hands reached down to haul them both into it, waterlogged and shaking and clinging to each other as if they would never let go.
And from that day forward, they never did.