He buried his mouth in her hair. "I'll be back for you, Emily. I swear it."
Her slender shoulders convulsed beneath Justin's hands. Her small fists opened and closed against his back, and in the desperation of her grasp he realized something that cut him almost as deeply as leaving her.
She didn't believe him.
With staggering reluctance he dragged himself out of her embrace. He reached in the inner pocket of his waistcoat and drew out a box.
"I have no ring to give you. All I have is this." His hands shook as he dropped the lid in the sand and
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."
A sad smile played around his lips. He drew a line in the sand with his toe. "Perhaps you are no wiser than we Maori. Seeking utu, your own personal revenge, for every slight."
"He slighted my whole life!" she cried.
Emily realized then that it wasn't about the gold. It never had been. She couldn't forgive him for breaking the heart of a child who had believed in him. And she couldn't afford to find out if he would do it again. Time had robbed her of her defenses. Her woman's heart wasn't as resilient as the child's had been. Another blow would surely shatter it. She felt the warning prick of tears behind her eyes. She blinked them away, not wanting Trini to see her cry. Not wanting anyone to ever see her cry again.
"It reminds me of something the Pakeha's mighty God once said-'Vengeance is mine.' "
"Not this time, Trini." She stabbed her chest with her finger, tapping the locket. "This time vengeance
is mine." His solemn brown eyes surveyed her with maddening wisdom. She turned away with a dismissive wave. "How can I expect you to understand?"
"Perhaps I understand better than you know . . . Claire."
Emily froze in mid-stride, flinching as the name sounded like a slap across her face. She turned slowly, remembering all the times she had seen him entranced by the shiny watch case. "How?"
Trini pointed. For the first time, Emily saw the children scattered among the dunes, their normal
jubilance muted to pensive quiet.
"Dani," he said. "She recognized you from the watch. She told me you were the Pakeha's lost angel
freed at last from a terrible spell."
Dani was wrong, Emily thought. She had only fallen under a more deadly spell. She opened the watch case with a trembling hand. The case was empty, the photograph gone. Once again Justin had taken
the best part of her with him.
She cast Trini a pleading glance. "How could he not have known?"
The native's lips quirked in an enigmatic smile. "The Pakeha sees only what he chooses to see. It is his way."
As Emily stared blindly into the locket, a low chant rose from the dunes. The children were repeating
one word over and over. Claire, They pelted out of the dunes, surrounding her. She sank to her knees, wrapping Dani's warm little body in her arms. She pressed her eyes shut, imagining how it would have
felt to hold the child she would never have. She could almost see him-his silky dark hair falling in his eyes as he bent over the piano.
She opened her eyes. Trini helped her to her feet, his tattooed brow furrowed in a frown. "How will