Page 66 of Once an Angel
drew out the shining rope of gold.
The watch dangled between them, casting shards of sunlight across Emily's tear-stained face. She sucked in a shuddering breath as he lowered the chain over her head. The watch fell between her breasts, golden bright against her tanned skin.
He cupped her face between his palms and gave her one last kiss, hot, sweet, and fierce with promise. Then he started down the hill, nearly stumbling in his haste to leave her before his will faltered.
"Justin Connor!"
The croaked bellow brought him to a sliding halt. He shaded his eyes against the sun and looked back
at the bluff.
Emily was jumping up and down, waving her arms. "Show them you're the best damned duke England has ever seen! Better than Prince Albert. Better even than the Duke of Wellington. And tell
Mr. Thaddeus Swinestocking his spit isn't fit to polish your shoes!"
He wouldn't have to. The hefty agent was standing beside the dinghy, his fat jowls drooping in consternation.
Justin touched his fingers to his lips, then spread them toward Emily in a silent salute.
"Buy Penfeld some china!" she shouted, cupping a hand around her mouth. "Wedgwood jasperware
with a floral pattern."
The natives watched with solemn eyes as he climbed into the dinghy. The sailors used the long oars to shove them away from the shore. Penfeld perched awkwardly in the bow, clutching the sides of the boat with whitened fingers. Justin didn't dare look at him. If his valet's fat little chin quivered the tiniest bit, Justin feared he would throw himself overboard and swim back to Emily even if they were halfway to England.
"Don't forget that English bulldog! He'll need a spiked collar. Keep him away from poodles. They're not real dogs, you know, just rats with curly hair and you mustn't breed . . ." Her hoarse voice was fading.
The oars parted the water in long, rippling strokes, shoving away the shoreline. A plaintive melody filled the air, sonorous and sweet.
He had told Emily the truth. The Maori could do nothing without singing.
Not even say good-bye.
Chalmers's cool, questioning gaze touched his face, but Justin didn't even blink. He kept his gaze riveted on the slender figure standing on the shrinking bluff and let the salty breeze burn the tears from his eyes before they could fall.
* * *
It was twilight before Emily made her way down from the bluff. The last tawny rays of the sun bathed the beach. Her limbs, her eyelids, her throat, ached with a leaden heaviness like the weight of the watch against her breastbone, but her heart felt as drained as her eyes. She had watered her father's grave with her tears for the last time. The sand had absorbed them, sucking them away as if they had never fallen.
The packet of letters she had taken from the hut rustled against her skin. She had spent the past few hours poring over them. They were simple letters written to a child, filled with the warmth, wit, and charm she had come to expect from Justin. They were filled with the pleasures of his days, the beauty
of the island, his friendships with the Maori, and humorous anecdotes about her father. He had shared
all of himself in those letters, everything but the puzzling truth that had kept him from posting them.
Emily's steps faltered as she saw Trini sitting crosslegged in the sand. She didn't want to see him. She didn't want to see anyone. She just wanted to crawl back into the sea as she had come. She walked past him without a word.
He scrambled to his feet. "Where will you go?"
She forced back a groan. When Trini used words under five syllables, he was deadly serious. She turned to face him, "Away."
"What shall I tell the Pakeha when he returns?"
"He won't be back." The bitter words shot out before she could stop them.
"And if you are wrong?"
She squared her shoulders. "Then I'll be the one to leave this time."
