Catherine Coulter - Bride 07 by Pendragon

Author:Pendragon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 2011-11-25T23:52:22+00:00

Chapter 19

Off the coast of southwestern Ireland Between Cork Harbour and Kinsale DECIDED SHE loved the Celtic Sea. This morning it looked like the English Channel on a very bad day, a gray raucous day, water whipped up by the wind, tearing and whipping about the boat. Today the sea was as rough and pure and wild as the frigid North Sea that slammed into the rocks near her home Kildrummy Castle in Scotland.

Then, suddenly, a gleaming sliver of sun slid through a sky full of fat gray clouds, knifing into the high waves just ahead of their boat. As for the boat—TheKelpie —it rocked madly, lifted to the top of a wave, then slammed down hard into a deep trough. It was like slicing a knife into bread, fast and deep.

Then holding steady, a long pause, as if the boat were holding its breath, then up again, towering on top of the cresting waves.

She'd never experienced anything like this. It was magnificent, exciting, and she loved every instant of it.

She thought she'd even go so far as to say that she loved it as much as she'd loved the pleasure she'd wallowed in the previous night. Then, of course, morning had come as it always did, and even though one just wanted to lie there and smile and do nothing at all, except reach for her husband and begin it all again, it wasn't possible because her husband had been gone. Long gone and it was only six o'clock in the morning, a stormy morning that would have made staying in bed, sipping chocolate, and kissing until her mouth was numb, a very lovely thing indeed.

It was not to be, dammit. And then he was there beside her, looking up at the billowing storm clouds overhead, feeling the harsh sea wind whip his hair around his face.

He said, "We'll be landing soon in Cork Harbour."

She had her hand firmly on her bonnet. She turned to see her husband, his dark eyes watering from the sea winds whipping about his head. He looked immensely wonderful, but he had changed again. This wasn't the man who'd groaned and yelled and kissed her numb the previous night. What was wrong with men? Were they all like this—utterly unpredictable, without a single idea how nice it would be to smile and kiss?

"I hope it storms before we land. I love storms."

"The horses don't. They don't like this pitching about a bit. Add rain to the mix and they would want to stomp until they toppled into the sea."

"It is a pity that they don't have thumbs—then they could hang on to something."

He smiled, remembering how he'd hated to leave her, she'd been so warm and soft, a slight smile playing about her mouth. She'd opened her eyes then, looked at him and saw only him, he knew it, smiled at only him. He'd had to leave her, there was so much to be done.

He said, "Pendragon lies only two hours south, right on the coast, at the end of a short promontory.

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