A Place For Miss Snow
Page 23
Finally, she rose, feeling unsettled as her mind vacillated between her two options. She walked along the road, the low wall between her and the drop down to the harbor. Glancing back, her eyes followed the road that led to Tsímova. She continued, passing a taverna and stepped onto a path that wound in switchbacks down to the beach.
She made a turn and stopped when she saw Alex walking along the path toward her. He smiled, but his eyes were missing their regular mirth.
“You are leaving.” She said it as a statement not a question.
He nodded, offering his arm. “And you are leaving as well.”
Diana placed her hand in the bed of his elbow. “I do not know.”
He turned to her with wide eyes. “You would remain here?”
“I have not decided.” She continued to walk, and he kept pace with her until they reached the rocks of the beach. Diana searched until she found a flat rock and sat, scooting to the side. “It is difficult to choose. I love both London and the Mani. But neither quite feels like my place.”
He sat beside her and did not speak. He seemed to be considering something, but since he was not speaking and she found often it easier to put words to her thoughts, she continued. Perhaps he was listening, perhaps not. “My entire life, I have done what I was told, taking the path another chose for me. But there have been three times I acted purely on impulse, making a decision for myself. Each has set my life on a new course.”
“Hiding in the library,” Alex said.
She glanced at him. He was listening. “Yes.”
“And when you followed the Turks yesterday.”
Diana nodded.
“And the other?”
“When I chased after a strange man in the middle of the night, hoping to return his gloves.” She shrugged and gave him a wry smile.
Alex lifted his head. “Ah yes.”
“Those times, the way seemed clear, almost as if I was led in the direction I should go, but now . . . Neither choice feels more right than the other.”
“Diana, why did you follow me that night?” Alex’s voice was lower than usual, and she turned to him, noticing that he watched her intently, as if her reply were important.
“I told myself it was to return your gloves. But that was only an excuse.” At this point, she had nothing to lose by telling the truth. “That day when we met at the inn—in that brief moment, I felt a connection to you, something I didn’t understand, and I wanted to see if it was still there.” She thought she would feel embarrassed confessing something so personal, but the way Alex studied her made her feel as if her silly words were important.
He nodded and turned his gaze toward the ship. “Yes. I know. I felt it too.”
She glanced at him, but he was not looking at her.
“Are you glad you followed me?”
“Well, obviously not at first. But I am glad. I found myself here in the Mani. I discovered Diana Snow and who she really is.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I learned that I can be braver than I would have believed and that I should not be afraid to feel. I learned what it is to belong to a family and what it is to love.” Her blush rose full force as she thought of his kiss, and she did not look at him. “I am grateful that I had that chance.”
Alex continued to watch the ship, and she thought he was waiting for an opportunity to say good-bye. Very well. She braced herself for the words.
But they did not come.
He squinted but did not look at her. “What if there was another choice?”
“I beg your pardon?” What was he talking about?
“Besides Tsímova and London.” He turned to her; his eyes darkened and looked into hers. “What if you had another choice?”
Diana’s pulse sped up at the intensity of his gaze. “I—I don’t.”
“There is another ship in the harbor.” He slid his arm across her shoulder, moving her closer as he pointed toward his ship.
Diana followed his gaze.
“What does your heart tell you?” His voice was a whisper in her ear, causing a shiver to spread over her skin. “Is your life ready for a new course?”
Diana closed her eyes. The sound of her heartbeat drowned out the noise of the waves. “My heart says yes,” she squeaked.
His answer was a kiss that sent the breath from her lungs and made stars explode behind her eyelids. A promise that she would always belong somewhere and that her life would never be lonely again. His touch was tender, his fingertips brushing on her arms.
Diana wove her fingers into the curls at his neck, returning the kiss with every bit of her heart. She sighed when he pulled away and pressed his forehead to hers.
“I do not know what lies ahead, Diana. But whatever the future brings, we will face it together. And I promise it will be worth it.”
Author’s Note
Occasionally as I’ve researched an era, a particular person in history will stand out to me, becoming more than just a name on a paper. Such was the case with Petrobey Mavromichalis. Finding much information about him was difficult, but it seemed like every time I turned up a new fact, my appreciation for the man and for his character grew. Petrobey was known from a young age as a man who settled disputes, reuniting warring families—something uncommon for Maniots. His reputation grew as he sheltered revolutionaries and klephts, helping them escape, often right beneath the Turks’ noses. He believed in education and wrote letters, asking for help and funding to start schools in the Mani. Sometime between 1817–1818, an emissary from the Filiki Eteria left Constantinople to recruit Petrobey to the society. From then on, his loyalty was to the revolution. In 1819, he brokered a formal pact between the Maniot clans, uniting them and working out a truce to end the vendettas that were so common. Two years later, he raised the flag of freedom in Tsímova, the town that was later renamed Areopolis (city of Ares, the ancient Greek god of war) in his honor. Flags with the motto “victory or death” were raised all over Greece. Petrobey, leading the Maniots, joined the klephts and Kolkotronis’s army as they marched against the Turks, eventually driving them out of Greece altogether. During the war, no less than fifty of his family members were killed. My heart has been so touched by his sacrifice, and I hope that through this small effort, more people will know his name and remember him as the hero he truly is.
About the Author
Jennifer Moore is a passionate reader and writer of all things romance due to the need to balance the rest of her world, which includes a perpetually traveling husband and four active sons, who create heaps of laundry that are anything but romantic. Jennifer has a BA in linguistics from the University of Utah and is a Guitar Hero champion. She lives in northern Utah with her family. You can learn more about her at authorjmoore.com.
Other Books by Jennifer Moore
Lady Helen Finds Her Song
Simply Anna
Miss Burton Unmasks a Prince
Lady Emma’s Campaign
Becoming Lady Lockwood