A Place For Miss Snow

by Moore, Jennifer

  The kapetan raised his brows. “She rescued you?

  “Yes.”

  “From the Turks?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alone?”

  Spiros nodded his head once. “Yes.”

  Diana was impressed at what an exceptional young man Spiros Sássaris was. He did not act at all embarrassed to be rescued by a woman.

  “I’ll admit I had the wrong conception of British women,” the kapetan muttered. He rubbed his cheek again and smirked. “Miss, you can lower your sword. We are on the same side.”

  Diana slowly let the sword down until the tip of the blade touched the hard dirt. Her arms felt like soft noodles, and she was suddenly exhausted. With the klephts here, she knew the children were safe, and cool relief washed over her. She glanced back and saw that the younger children were still asleep. Elena and Stella stood a few feet behind Spiros. A wave of emotion moved through her at the faith they had in her.

  It took all her strength to remain standing long enough to offer the kapetan a seat.

  She sat on a rock, holding herself straight, not wanting to show the man any weakness, though she was near collapse. Her muscles felt like all the energy had been drained out and the only thing left behind was jelly. Her head started to feel dizzy.

  Kapetan Karahalios stretched out his legs. He looked quite at home in her little camp. He motioned to a man to bring a water skin, then he offered it to Diana.

  She thanked him and took a sip before handing it to Spiros.

  A man approached the kapetan. Diana recognized him as the other klepht that had come for Alex, the young man with the scar. He leaned forward and whispered.

  “No need for secrecy, Private. Speak for all to hear.”

  He straightened and glanced at Diana. “We are too late for the fight. The Maniots defeated the Turks and took the ship. Now they are searching for a woman and the children.”

  Kapetan Karahalios tipped his head toward Diana. “Shall I send word of your whereabouts? Or will you threaten them as well?”

  She ignored his sarcasm. Truly, she was too exhausted to think of a witty comeback. “Yes, tell them, please.” Her mind was swimming with fatigue, but a thought rose into her consciousness. The private had reported that Turks were defeated, but were there any Maniot casualties? Were some of the children’s fathers injured? Or killed? How could she tell them? Comfort them? And Alex. Diana jolted. Was Alex safe?

  The worry she’d felt before returned with a force. She did not doubt Alex’s strength. She’d seen the way his shirt stretched over his broad back and felt the bulge of muscles when she held his arm. He was well built and extremely intelligent, but he was not a warrior. She did not know if he’d had any experience in battle. Had he been hurt? Had he—

  She pushed the thought away before her mind completed it.

  A voice sounded from the darkness. A man called out, but the buzzing of the cicadas muffled the words. The voice came again. “Stella!”

  The girl gasped and jumped to her feet. “Patéras!”

  Themis barged up the hill and swept his daughter into his arms. “My Stella.” His voice clogged, and he buried his head in Stella’s hair.

  Diana heard other men’s voices, and a moment later, the hillside was covered with fathers reuniting with their children. She saw Petrobey embrace Elena, and she was nearly certain the moonlight revealed the sheen of moisture in the bey’s eyes.

  Emotion surged in her throat when Diana watched these same hardened men, who, merely hours earlier, had been entangled in a blood feud, whispering tender words as they held their children.

  A man found the young twins, clasping them to his chest, and Daphne’s husband embraced Theodora and Spiros. Soon each child had been claimed, but as the moments passed, Diana’s heart grew heavier. Where was Alex? The noise on the hillside became a clamor as the men and klephts spoke loudly, some telling about the battle, others showing newly acquired weapons that gleamed in the moonlight or offering congratulations on a fine victory. She strained her ears but did not hear Alex among them.

  She wove in and out of the crowd, stumbling over rocks and dodging bushes as she tried to get a view of each face. But still the one she searched for was not to be found.

  Finally she stopped. He was not here.

  Surrounded by a crowd of happy people, Diana felt completely alone. She let the sword drop, hearing a thud and the scrape of metal when it hit the earth. She sat on the hillside, pulling her knees to her chest. Tears burned her eyes, but she swallowed and stamped down the rush of pain.

  “Diana!”

  Whipping around her head, she saw Alex’s familiar silhouette climbing up the moonlit hill.

  The surge of tears pushed harder, and she pressed her hand over her mouth, forcing them back. She shifted to her knees, but the strength to stand had deserted her. She sank back. A sob rose in her throat, and she shook her head, willing it away.

  Alex crouched next to her. “Oh, Diana. Dóxa to theó. Thank goodness you are safe.” His voice shook. He reached for her.

  At his touch, something inside fractured, and Diana’s emotions burst forth in a torrent.

  Alex’s arms slid around her shoulders. She pressed her face against his chest, clinging on to his lapels as she gulped and sobbed. The fear she’d felt for the children, the uncertainty about her future, the loneliness, the drain of exhaustion, all the years of holding in her pain and pushing away her emotions—it all grew until it could no longer be contained. She felt as if the tears were being pulled from her. Her face, her throat, her eyes—all were compressed and burning. Her heart split, and it all spilled out in hysterical wails and wet tears.

  Alex only held her tighter, speaking soft words of comfort that seemed to spread the opening in her heart wider. Diana choked on the sobs, and her shoulders shook. The precise thing she’d feared and avoided for so long had happened. She had finally lost her tight hold. And the result was not a dainty tear and sniffle. Everything she’d hidden inside was exposed. But instead of feeling uncovered and vulnerable, she felt lighter, like she’d cast off a heavy mass.

  She gradually started to calm and realized that Alex’s cheek rested on her head.

  Her stomach grew hot with embarrassment. “I am so sorry,” she panted with a jerky breath once she could manage to form words. “I thought you would not return and . . .” She felt humiliated for coming apart so completely.

  Alex cupped her chin and lifted her face. His other hand brushed wet strands of hair from her cheeks. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “Yes, I am not injured.”

  “No, Diana. Are you all right?” He spoke each word deliberately. His hands slid to her neck, holding her face toward him. “You told me you feared weeping would be so painful you would be unable to bear it.” Even in the moonlight she could see his eyes darken. His head tipped to the side. “Are you hurting?”

  “Not anymore.” Heat filled her face. Her instinct was to shut him out, lock up her feelings, but her heart was open, and it was much harder to hide it away now. “I—” She drew in a breath, lowering her voice. “I do not hurt because you are with me.”

  His gaze softened, and he bent his head to touch his lips to hers.

  Diana did not hold any of herself back as she returned the kiss. She pressed her fingers into the curls at his neck, and instead of fighting the sensation, she sighed as his touch filled her with warmth. For the first time, she allowed herself to feel without worry of pain because she knew she was not alone.

  Chapter 23

  Alex held Diana against him. Her words and her kiss made his stomach turn over, a feeling much like when a ship sinks too fast over a wave. He moved his chin, feeling strands of her hair clinging to his whiskers. He rubbed his hand up and down her back. He’d never have imagined the thing that would finally break through her barriers would be her concern for him.

  Finding her safe poured relief over him, flooding cool through his limbs. He said a silent prayer of thanks to St
. George—he thought it appropriate to honor the great martyr as his gratitude pertained to the small “warrior” in his arms.

  He let a smile touch his lips. He would never have believed Diana capable of the feats she performed today. She hadn’t only terrified him, but he thought he had never felt so proud of anyone in his entire life. He wanted to shout her deeds from the rooftops. Tell everyone that it was his Diana who had saved the children.

  The thought brought him up short. He’d made excuses since the moment they’d met for why he and Diana could not have a future together. He would be returning to Turkey, Diana would return to her family in London, she was not strong enough for the life of a revolutionary. One by one, his assumptions had been proven wrong. He could not help feeling like an element of destiny existed when it came to Diana—and he had to admit, it frightened him. The mere thought of something happening to her shot pain through his chest, fear like he’d not experienced since the loss of his family. He realized that for all the preaching he’d done to Diana, he was every bit as scared of being hurt, of losing someone again, of daring to let himself love her.

  Diana lifted her head, pulling back and looking up through her lashes. “I forgot to tell you, Kapetan Karahalios is looking for you.”

  “The klepht kapetan? He is here?”

  She nodded. “Yes. He is near the trees.”

  He held onto Diana’s hand, assisting her as she rose. She clasped the large sword she’d taken from the fallen Turk and motioned toward a copse of trees at the base of a sheer rock wall. The sound of men’s voices rose from the area she indicated, and he followed her lead over the hills.

  He knew the Maniots were anxious to return to their homes, and he did not wish to linger. But for the life of him, he could not think of what Kapetan Karahalios could possibly wish to speak with him about.

  As they neared the trees, the kapetan approached, raising his hand in greeting. The moon shone brightly on his white clothing. Alex saw that Lieutenant Markos followed close behind.

  Diana pulled on her hand, but Alex did not release his hold. “Will you stay?” he said in a quiet voice.

  “I will if you’d like.”

  He squeezed her hand in answer, then turned to the klepht. “Kapetan, I did not expect to see you.”

  “I owe you a debt, Mr. Metaxas.”

  “Alex.”

  The kapetan inclined his head. “Alex. You saved Logastras Camp.”

  Alex blinked, and his brows shot up in surprise. “Sir?”

  “Lieutenant Markos told me your suspicions about the new recruit, and it turns out they were entirely correct. Iason Solomos was a Janissary spy.”

  Alex put a hand on his hip. If he were twenty-five years younger, he would have stuck out his tongue and danced around the irritable kapetan chanting, “I told you so.” But he somehow kept himself composed.

  “We did as you suggested,” Lieutenant Markos said. “Took the young man to camp but kept a close watch on his movements, and within a week, he’d slipped away. So we were ready when he returned with his friends.”

  “Rather like a flock of lambs wandering into a lion’s den, wouldn’t you say, Lieutenant?” The kapetan’s grin flashed wickedly. “They arrived in a deserted camp, and just when the realization dawned on them that they’d been outfoxed, we pounced. When we were through with them, there was nothing left but turbans and blood.”

  Alex felt Diana stiffen, and he cleared his throat, tipping his head toward her in a reminder to the klephts that there was a lady in their midst.

  Kapetan Karahalios looked at Diana and winced. “Ah. Beg your pardon, miss.”

  Diana nodded.

  “Yes, ah, Alex, the reason I came to find you is I realized nearly as soon as you left that I’d made a mistake. I wasn’t myself that day—toothache, you know. And you solved that problem as well.” He frowned as he nodded toward Alex. “I was wrong about you, and I hope you will still consider your previous offer to me to be valid.”

  “Of course, Kapetan.” Alex’s heart leaped in his chest. His mission to the klephts was not a failure after all. “There are, naturally, details to discuss, but Petrobey will be your point of contact. He will keep you informed.”

  Kapetan Karahalios nodded. “A good man, the bey.” He offered his hand, and Alex shook it, amazed at the difference in the man’s disposition now that his tooth no longer hurt.

  Around them, the noises changed, and Alex saw that the group was headed toward the harbor. Dino, Argos, and a few others had remained with the Turkish ship. The plan was to sail back to Limeni instead of the children making the return journey on foot.

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, Alex.”

  “Likewise, Kapetan. And I expect we will meet again soon.”

  “And Diana Snow.” The kapetan squinted. He glanced down to the sword she carried, tipping his head to the side with a bemused look. He motioned to his men, and the klephts moved away silently and disappeared into the hills.

  “I do not think he knew what to make of you, Diana.” Alex smiled.

  “When he first appeared, I didn’t know who he was. I thought he might be a Turk or a bandit, and I . . . threatened him with the sword.”

  Alex’s smile grew. He lifted her hand to his lips. “That will teach him to sneak up on a warrior woman.”

  She blew out a sigh. “It was ridiculous. I could hardly hold up the sword. He was not frightened at all.”

  He held inside the laugh that wanted to slip out, knowing she would take offense. “Come, warrior woman. You have had enough adventure for a lifetime.” He pulled on her hand, but Diana paused, her gaze looking far away.

  “What is it?”

  “What you just said. I said that very same thing to myself . . . once.” She closed her mouth and lowered her gaze. Even in the moonlight, he could see color in her cheeks.

  Alex knew instinctively not to ask further. “The ship awaits us in the harbor.” He glanced down. “Do you want me to carry your sword?”

  “Alex, a warrior woman does not allow someone else to carry her sword.” Her mouth pulled in the familiar smirk that he wanted to kiss until it softened into a smile.

  So he did.

  [

  The harbor was empty and silent. The moon made the pebbly beach shine white, and the tips of the waves glowed with what appeared to be an inner light. Low voices and the soft hiss of the water against the shore made the bay beautiful and peaceful—a far cry from a few hours earlier. A chill ran over Alex’s skin as the memory of the battle loomed in his thoughts.

  After the conflict, the men rushed to find their children, and Alex had helped Dino and Argos carry and conceal the bodies of the slain Turks in the cavity of the rock where the children had been imprisoned. He was grateful now that Diana and the children did not have to see the aftermath of the battle.

  Maniots rowed in small boats from the shore to the ship. Alex rode next to Diana, noticing how her head bobbed with the movement of the boat. She was exhausted. When they reached the boat, he assisted her over the gunwale onto the deck. He glanced around at the Turks’ ship.

  Dino stood at the helm but strode toward them when they boarded. He pulled an object from the sash at his waist and held out a metal scabbard to Diana. The brass and silver pattern gleamed.

  She looked at it, then to Dino with a confused expression.

  He took the sword from her hand, pushed it inside the sheath with a swift movement, then handed it back.

  “Oh, thank you.” Diana took the weapon in both hands, staring down at it. She must have realized that Dino had taken it from the Turk’s body. She looked up, and Alex saw that her lip trembled. Her gaze moved to the rife slung over Dino’s shoulder. “Did you shoot that man?”

  “Yes.” Dino kept his chin raised. But Alex saw his eyes waver. Dino was not a man who showed emotion, so the small movement spoke volumes. He’d been concerned for Diana—afraid, even.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She held out the weapon toward him a
nd cleared her throat. “You should have this.”

  Dino shook his head. “I shot the Turk from afar, Missno. You followed the enemy, alone and unarmed. You were the brave one.”

  “I didn’t feel brave at all.”

  “Which makes your actions all the more remarkable.”

  Diana pulled the sword to her chest. She bowed her head. “Thank you, Constandinos.”

  He dipped his chin and returned to the helm of the ship.

  Diana stared down at the sword for a moment longer, then turned to Alex. “I am so tired.”

  “Shall we find you a berth to sleep in?”

  She shook her head. “No. I want— Can I remain with you?”

  The request must be important if she was willing to speak so openly. He could see by the hesitation in her face that voicing it had been difficult.

  And he was glad she did. After agonizing over Diana’s welfare for the entire day and then nearly losing her, the thought of leaving her for even a few hours made him feel uneasy. “I will not let you out of my sight.”

  She smiled, but he could see that it took effort. Her eyelids were heavy, and when they walked across the deck, her steps were sluggish. He lowered her to a spot on the port side aft section of the deck where she would stay dry. He sat beside her, leaning back against the gunwale. He wished he had a blanket or a pillow or something for her to rest on.

  She closed her eyes, leaning her head back. The ship’s deck rose and lowered as the ship bobbed on the gentle waters of the harbor. The waves whispered as they moved toward shore, and within a few moments, Diana’s head dropped. She leaned heavily against his shoulder, and he knew that she slept.

  He shifted, lying her down on the deck, her head resting on his leg and swept his fingers over her cheek and back through her hair. Diana’s face shone white in the moonlight, her lashes fanned over her cheeks.

  His chest swelled, and warmth spread throughout his body as he watched her sleep. He could not resist tracing her jaw or brushing his finger over the dip in her upper lip. The moment was perfect. His earlier thoughts returned, and he made up his mind. If Diana could be brave, he could as well. He was in love with her, and saying good-bye would be like leaving a piece of his heart behind. All of his former arguments were resolved, and no reasons existed any longer as to why he could not be with her.