in the grove she’d seen yesterday. That open space in the thick of the vegetation that vibrated with awe.
The boat that she had seen—yesterday, when she came across Sal by chance—had been transformed. It was no longer a patched-together affair. The thing had a gleam of sturdiness, and she knew just looking at it how it would sit high over the water.
“I’m going to get you home, Miss Hazzard.”
“On that?”
His laughter surprised her. She wasn’t at all certain why he was laughing. “Of course not,” he said, when he realized that she had been serious. “Me, and Sal, and a few members of the Princess’s crew have been building this bark. We are going to get help, and bring you home in style.”
“And then?”
He laughed again, but it sounded different to her this time, softer, so that she felt she was in on the joke. “I should’ve known it would take more than that to impress you. To impress the famous Vida Hazzard.” But she would not look away from him, and he didn’t dare end their exchange with a joke. “And then I would like very much to take you to New York.”
“But,” she said, “that certainly won’t do for a sail.”
Fitzhugh glanced at the mast, at the old tablecloth that was wrapped around the mast.
“It’s already ripped, for one thing,” she said. “And for another it’s heavy damask. What you need is a modern fabric, strong yet light.”
She let him puzzle over this a moment. Let a little drama build in the air between them. Then she bent, turned away for modesty’s sake, and unhooked the petticoat underneath her skirt. The balloon of the underskirt came out from under the ornamented top skirt, and it was obvious what a good sail it would make—even in the still atmosphere, it looked ready to fill with wind. She saw how Fitzhugh watched her and gave him a subtle little dart of a smile. A strong energy grew in him, lit up his face.
His hand found the narrow of her waist. A pretty glaze blurred her vision.
They stared at each other a moment and she dropped the skirt and her lips parted.
His face moved toward hers, his chin tilted—in a moment she would close her eyes to accept his kiss. His hands spread over her waist, and she felt the press of his mouth against hers, and the warmth of his breath, and the pump of his heart.
“I’ve been wanting to do that a long time,” he said.
She might have replied in kind, but she instead draped her arms around his neck and leaned closer so that he would know he could kiss her again. He gripped a fistful of her skirt. But he hesitated a moment, and then she heard a rustling from the tree above. Somebody was up there. That somebody jumped down from a high branch, and dashed past them toward the beach. Fitzhugh’s brow creased in concern.
“I’m sorry,” cried the somebody, and Vida recognized Sal’s voice.
“Damn it,” said Fitzhugh, drawing Vida protectively toward him. He watched Sal go with fire in his eyes. She’d never heard Fitz sound angry before. She felt cold and hot at once. Was she angry, too? She remembered how irritated she had always been in the presence of Fitzhugh’s manservant back on the deck of the Princess. He had always been getting in the way of her finding Fitz.
“I didn’t know you were coming here!” Sal called as he retreated into the trees. “I’m sorry!”
Vida’s anger burst so hot and sudden that it was almost a kind of pleasure, and she stared after Sal hoping he’d look back and she could show him with her eyes what she thought of his meddling. Or, if he wasn’t meddling, the impertinence of being where he wasn’t supposed to be at all. Or—but then she wasn’t sure what she wanted to show him, and he had disappeared into the night, and it didn’t matter anymore. Fitzhugh’s mouth had found hers again.
When Fitz led Vida back to the beach they saw against the darkness the hanging lamp of a magnificent moon. It whitened everything, even the stars, which had previously been too multitudinous for it to be possible to make out any pattern in the sky. Around the silent white disk, like some celestial spirit, radiated a series of pale halos.
“How beautiful,” Vida whispered.
Fitz put her fingers to his lips. “I ordered that moon especially for you.”
“It reminds me of winter.” She laughed at the absurdity