The Ice Princess
Chapter 12
And as the ice covering the Ice Princess melted, the frozen statues thawed as well, until hundreds of living, breathing men stood where once there had only been frozen bodies.
The men gave a great cry and each and every one of them started the journey back to their own homes. Soon only the Ice Princess and the soldier remained. Hot tears continued to drip down the Ice Princess’ pink cheeks, falling into the hands she held in her lap.
The soldier looked at her and asked, “Why do you weep, sweetheart?”
The Ice Princess drew a heavy breath. “You’ve freed all my ice men and soon you’ll leave as well. Then I shall truly be alone.” . . . .
--from The Ice Princess
# # #
 This. This was exactly what he wanted.
Isaac wrapped Coral in his arms and kissed her with all his soul. He’d spent the last six months wondering if he’d ever see her again—if he’d ever find her again—and now at last he had her. Something quieted in his chest. The hawk beating its wings against his ribcage all this time settled and closed its eyes. Finally. Finally he’d found her.
Not that his ire was altogether appeased.
Her lips trembled beneath his and she parted them with gratifying speed. He took her offer and plundered her mouth, making sure she knew who kissed her. Knew that he had no intention of letting her go this time.
He raised his head and examined her. She wore a plain frock and shawl, an almost Puritan white cap upon her head. Had she thought to hide her beauty from him with such a meager disguise?
“I searched for you,” he said with careful precision. “I searched for you obsessively for the six days before the Challenger left port--”
She blinked. “Six days?”
“And when I returned only a fortnight ago,” he continued, determined to speak his fill. “I stopped only long enough to see my men safely to port before continuing the chase. I haven’t even had time to sit down to a proper meal on land since I made port, all because I was searching for you. And the worst part, the most damnable part of all--is that until I came over that hill and saw you standing here I had no proof that I would find you at all.”
Here he may have let his iron control slip a bit for he found himself kissing her again, devouring her mouth like a starving man presented with a loaf of bread. When he raised his head again he saw with some satisfaction that her cheeks had pinkened and she was looking a bit dazed. He almost smiled, but he restrained himself in time.
“Explain yourself, madam.”
“I-I…” For a moment her cat-green eyes were dazed, but then they narrowed in suspicion. “How did you find me?”
Her mode of attire might have changed, but her wit obviously had not. He leaned close, her nearness warming his heart. “I’ll tell you how I found you when you tell me what was going on in that pretty head of yours when you abandoned me—”
She stiffened. “It wasn’t abandonment—”
“After a night of sublime lovemaking,” he continued, “which, I think most would agree, would lead any man to believe our relationship had taken on a permanent basis. I think I could successfully bring a suit of breach of promise against you—”
“Oh!”
He bent and bit her ear gently. “Therefore, I would be most grateful if you would give me a reason for causing me such heartache.”
When he raised his head again she was looking contrite. “I never meant to cause you heartache, Isaac.”
He raised a skeptical eyebrow.
Her color heightened. “I didn’t! You must know that we could never be together for very long. We—”
“Why not?” His words were clipped as he felt his ire rise.
She gaped at him—and then began to laugh, though the sound was a little desperate.
Isaac contemplated kissing her again—or simply taking her here on the cliffs, but they needed to have this conversation in order to move forward. And besides, it was a chilly day.
So he simply waited until her gasping laughter quieted and then raised his brow again.
Her mouth turned down at the sight, the corners bitter and lined. “I’m a whore.”
“Were.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You were a whore,” he enunciated clearly. “But no longer.”
She shook her head as if the past tense was trifling. “You are a respectable man. A man whose entire career could be ruined simply by association with me.”
She stopped and glared at him.
He nodded encouragingly, but she simply stared at him, looking rather frustrated.
“Is that it?” he asked politely.
She threw up her hands. “Is that it? That’s everything, I should think! I left because I could not bear the inevitable severing of our relationship. I left because we could never be.”
“You left because you had a cowardly moment,” he replied drily. She opened her mouth in outrage, but he placed a finger over her lips. “My turn, I think.”
She closed her mouth and glared at him, mute, her arms cross.
“One,” he said, ticking his points off on his fingers. “You are no longer a whore. Two, you wore a mask, you little idiot—no one will recognize you if you don’t tell them your past. Three, I love you. Four, you love me. Five...”—He tapped his thumb against his chin—“Well, I really don’t have a fifth reason, but I should think the first four are sufficient.”
“But—!”
He smiled benevolently down at her. She really was quite lovely with her cheeks pinked by the wind, and he much preferred her simple white dress to the gaudy things she’d worn at the Grotto. “To answer your first question, I found you because of your sister’s portrait--remember you had her miniature on your dresser?”
She nodded, looking not a little distracted.
“Well, I had quite a lot of time to contemplate the matter whilst I was at sea. The minute I made port I went to the Grotto and talked to Billy. He sends his regards, by the way. He told me that you had received regular letters from an address in Essex. I tracked down the address, talked to your sister—she sends her love as well—and voila! Here I am.”
He watched her open her mouth once more as if to argue. “Ah, ah! Do you have any more questions for me?”
She shut her mouth, frowned quite charmingly, then said grudgingly, “No.”
“Good.” Isaac reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he’d been carrying about for six long months. Though he had met warships in battle at sea, though he’d faced down maddened pirates, he noted with one part of his mind that his fingers actually trembled.
He dropped to one knee and stared up at the woman he loved. “Will you marry me, Coral Smythe?” |
