A Heart Adrift by Laura Frantz

Author:Laura Frantz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance;Love Stories;FIC042030;FIC042040;FIC027050
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2021-11-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

thirty-three

Henri’s firm nay removed any doubt Esmée had about why he was appointing her lightkeeper. Still, her suddenly shifting world made her a little light-headed, which had nothing to do with the wine and everything to do with his proximity and her new position.

She, the lady lightkeeper of Indigo Island.

She’d expected some naysaying. An outright refusal. As if to ground herself, she touched the tiny silver lighthouse on her chatelaine beneath the folds of her cloak.

“May I see my future quarters?” she asked when they’d finished their refreshments.

“Of course. Right this way.”

Out they went, her spirit and step more buoyant than when she’d arrived. The path connecting his cottage to the light and her quarters had recently been scattered with shells. Their footsteps crunched as they walked it, a distance mercifully short.

Or brow-raisingly brief.

If the wags got wind of it . . . She shuttered the thought and followed him, eyes on his broad back until she laid eyes on her new home. Home. ’Twas not as she imagined it. ’Twas even better. Made of rubblestone and brick, the lighthouse shot into the sky some one hundred sixty feet high, its foundation staked into the ground with iron spikes. But ’twas the cottage that called to her. Quaint. Well-built. Its door and windows seemed almost in miniature, especially when the captain ducked beneath the lintel, his shoulders nearly touching the doorframe.

Once they were in the main room—the parlor—her gaze was everywhere at once. The cold hearth that begged for a warm fire vied for her attention, along with the simple furnishings that bespoke exotic ports. All was masculine and spare, something she would enjoy making her own. She’d put curtains at the windows and bring over a few of her treasured belongings to start.

“So, how does it strike you?” Henri stood back as she began to roam.

Withholding her answer, she passed into a bedchamber, its windows facing the sea. Would she hear its music night and day?

The kitchen was trim but adequate, with room enough for a small table and two chairs. Cooking vessels rested on the hearthstones. The room simply lacked a teapot and pretty porcelain cups. The larder was large, as befitting a home so far from a market. Supplies would need to be gotten, especially for the coming winter.

“At the risk of sounding too forward, I’m rather smitten,” she finally said, garnering his smile.

They went outside, where the back of the cottage was level enough for a small garden. Next he took her into the light, up the twisting stair to the very top. The dizzying height and view stole her breath.

All around them rested lanterns waiting to be lit and a great many candles. Unkindled, the tower seemed a hollow place, a body without a soul. Echoing and awaiting its purpose. Henri was standing near her, one protective hand on her back as if the glass was not there at all and she was in danger of falling. She felt his hand through the thick folds of her cape.

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