Read Online The Sea Between by Carol Thomas - Free Book Online
Authors: Carol Thomas
Tags: Fiction
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other…Circumstances were a mite unusual, though. Richard didn’t live locally; he was a ship’s captain home on a brief shore leave, which was why he was wasting no time in letting her see that he liked her and why she was reciprocating in kind.
Putting Isobel out of her mind, she placed her hands lightly on Richard’s shoulders and closed her eyes as he pressed his lips firmly against hers and pulled her closer. No casual kiss, this. No tentative, uncertain novice kiss either. Well, Richard was almost thirty. She was hardly likely to be the first woman he had held in his arms. By the same token, he wasn’t the first man who had ever kissed her. Relaxing in his arms, she slid her right hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, then slipped her fingers through his hair like a comb. His hair was as thick and soft as a fox-fur wrap. She ran her fingers through it, slowly, back and forth, enjoying the feel of it, enjoying the feel of Richard’s body next to hers, the feel of his hands on her back, his fingers splayed wide, pressing her close, the feel of his lips moving against hers…
It was late in the afternoon when they got back to the farm. The sun was sinking behind the hills in a deep amber glow and the air was becoming noticeably crisper. As she led her horse into the stable, Richard walked in beside her, watching her in silence as she deftly unstrapped the saddle before shutting the mare in her stall for the night.
‘Will you ride with me again tomorrow?’ he asked as she walked over to him.
‘Yes, if the weather holds fine,’ she replied, then laughed as his left arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close to him.
‘Richard, I think you’ve had more than enough kisses today,’ she teased, craning her neck back in an attempt to put her lips out of reach. They’d kissed for quite a long time, both before and after the picnic lunch that Letitia had packed, and her lips were feeling quite tender.
Cupping the back of her head with his free hand, Richard tilted her head forward again. As their lips touched, he said softly, ‘Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, Lady, were no crime…’
Winding her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the name of the poem that the lines came from. It came to her eventually—it was Andrew Marvell’s ‘To His Coy Mistress’, and the words Richard had quoted were absolutely right: they didn’t have a world of time. They had little more than a week, and then Richard would be leaving for Lyttelton again. They would have to make the most of the short time they did have, and enjoy each other’s company while they could.
Their current enjoyment, however, was destined to be short-lived, as it was brought to a sudden halt by the sound of the back door opening, followed by footsteps crossing the yard.
‘That’ll be my father,’ Charlotte whispered, glancing hastily over her shoulder. She stepped back, putting several yards between the two of them, and prayed that the failing light had failed enough to hide her reddening cheeks.
‘Ah, you’re back!’ John said, as he walked into the stable. ‘Well, the weather held fine for you. What did you think of the view from Shelf Rock, Captain Steele? Was it worth the ride?’
‘Oh, well worth it!’ Richard said enthusiastically. Arms folded across his chest, he rocked smugly on his heels.
Chapter 5
W ill Richard be calling by to say goodbye to you?’ Sarah asked as she reached for another pin. She was sitting at the kitchen table, patching a tear in Arthur’s trousers.
Veiled in steam, Charlotte looked up from the stone sink where she was scrubbing the breakfast pans. ‘He said he probably would,’ she returned over her shoulder. Richard was due to leave for Lyttelton later that morning, to rejoin his ship.
An amused laugh sounded, unmistakably Isobel. ‘I’ll lay a pound to a penny that Captain Steele will call before he leaves. There’s hardly a day gone by that
Putting Isobel out of her mind, she placed her hands lightly on Richard’s shoulders and closed her eyes as he pressed his lips firmly against hers and pulled her closer. No casual kiss, this. No tentative, uncertain novice kiss either. Well, Richard was almost thirty. She was hardly likely to be the first woman he had held in his arms. By the same token, he wasn’t the first man who had ever kissed her. Relaxing in his arms, she slid her right hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, then slipped her fingers through his hair like a comb. His hair was as thick and soft as a fox-fur wrap. She ran her fingers through it, slowly, back and forth, enjoying the feel of it, enjoying the feel of Richard’s body next to hers, the feel of his hands on her back, his fingers splayed wide, pressing her close, the feel of his lips moving against hers…
It was late in the afternoon when they got back to the farm. The sun was sinking behind the hills in a deep amber glow and the air was becoming noticeably crisper. As she led her horse into the stable, Richard walked in beside her, watching her in silence as she deftly unstrapped the saddle before shutting the mare in her stall for the night.
‘Will you ride with me again tomorrow?’ he asked as she walked over to him.
‘Yes, if the weather holds fine,’ she replied, then laughed as his left arm snaked around her waist, pulling her close to him.
‘Richard, I think you’ve had more than enough kisses today,’ she teased, craning her neck back in an attempt to put her lips out of reach. They’d kissed for quite a long time, both before and after the picnic lunch that Letitia had packed, and her lips were feeling quite tender.
Cupping the back of her head with his free hand, Richard tilted her head forward again. As their lips touched, he said softly, ‘Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, Lady, were no crime…’
Winding her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the name of the poem that the lines came from. It came to her eventually—it was Andrew Marvell’s ‘To His Coy Mistress’, and the words Richard had quoted were absolutely right: they didn’t have a world of time. They had little more than a week, and then Richard would be leaving for Lyttelton again. They would have to make the most of the short time they did have, and enjoy each other’s company while they could.
Their current enjoyment, however, was destined to be short-lived, as it was brought to a sudden halt by the sound of the back door opening, followed by footsteps crossing the yard.
‘That’ll be my father,’ Charlotte whispered, glancing hastily over her shoulder. She stepped back, putting several yards between the two of them, and prayed that the failing light had failed enough to hide her reddening cheeks.
‘Ah, you’re back!’ John said, as he walked into the stable. ‘Well, the weather held fine for you. What did you think of the view from Shelf Rock, Captain Steele? Was it worth the ride?’
‘Oh, well worth it!’ Richard said enthusiastically. Arms folded across his chest, he rocked smugly on his heels.
Chapter 5
W ill Richard be calling by to say goodbye to you?’ Sarah asked as she reached for another pin. She was sitting at the kitchen table, patching a tear in Arthur’s trousers.
Veiled in steam, Charlotte looked up from the stone sink where she was scrubbing the breakfast pans. ‘He said he probably would,’ she returned over her shoulder. Richard was due to leave for Lyttelton later that morning, to rejoin his ship.
An amused laugh sounded, unmistakably Isobel. ‘I’ll lay a pound to a penny that Captain Steele will call before he leaves. There’s hardly a day gone by that
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