Cherished Moments by Anita Mills

Author:Anita Mills
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626818576
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2015-05-04T04:00:00+00:00

When Hugh awakened, he was alone in bed. Fearing Lily had fled, he yanked off the covers and started to rise, but stopped, for he felt her presence and relaxed. Sitting on the windowseat, she wore a new gown of yellow linen. Her hair trailed over her shoulder and pooled in her lap. Had he selected a woman to grace his cabin and warm his life, he could not have chosen better than Lily Hamilton.

She looked up, and her winsome smile pleased him anew.

Oddly, he was reminded of his sister. “Good morning,” he said.

As he expected, a maidenly blush colored her cheeks. “Good morning to you.”

He patted the mattress. “Come. Sit with me.”

Rising gracefully, she came to him with strength of purpose and excitement and, to his great relief, the promise of forgiveness. She sat beside him, and he pulled her into his arms. As his lips settled on her, it was as if he were seeing inside her. He instinctively knew that he’d only scratched the surface of her character. Next year, five years, ten, twenty years from now, she’d grow and polish and shine like a treasured keepsake.

When he drew back, she studied him.

He basked in her attention. “You’ve much to recommend you, Lily Hamilton.”

Shyly, she said, “You know little about me.”

“Precisely my point.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. After a moment’s consideration, a smile blossomed on her face. “Thank you.”

He thought his heart would burst with love. Before he could voice his feelings, she cleared her throat. “Now that…that we’ve…we’ve come to…to know each other better…”

“I love you. Will you marry me?”

She looked much too serious, her hands folded in her lap, her expression pensive. “Yes, if you will tell me two things.”

A cold fist of dread knotted in his belly, for he knew what she would ask, and he hadn’t the right to answer.

“Is this—was this ship once mine?”

It was the last thing he expected and the easiest to address. “Aye, ’twas the Valiant Lily.” He couldn’t help adding, “A fitting name. I’ll have the carpenter change it back.”

She pointed to the wardrobe. “I carved my initials there—in the bulkhead.”

She’d imprinted herself on his soul, too, but he’d wait to tell her that. Anxious to see her handiwork, he pulled on his breeches and crossed the room. Putting his shoulder to the task, he swung the large piece of furniture away from the wall. There, in the bulkhead were the initials LMH.

He waved her over, and when she stood beside him, he draped an arm over her shoulder. “The ‘M’ is for…?”

“Margaret, although I’ve never done it justice, particularly of late.”

“You’re too exciting for so common a name.” Margaret was the patron saint of Scotland and often bestowed at christening. His sister Fiona and many of his cousins carried the name.

Lily knelt and touched the carving.

“How old were you?” he asked.

“Eight.” Giving the symbol a final pat, she stood and faced him solemnly. “When I was ten years old, your family took this ship. The day I learned of it, I was so devastated, I ran away from home.

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