Abigail bit her lip thoughtfully as she considered the situation. 'You might have to help me,' she said at last, 'I'm not quite sure...'
Gifford grinned briefly, but his expression was very tender as he reached for her. 'I'll always help you,' he assured her.
'Yes. Oh, wait! I'm sorry!' Abigail saw the flare of apprehension in his gaze as she interrupted their love-making and kissed him apologetically, 'I'm sorry,' she said again, pressing her breasts against him, and resting her forearms on his chest as she looked down at him. 'I just... You said you'd go to the Admiralty tomorrow!' she burst out. 'For a ship. I just remembered.
Are you...? Do you want...? I would never want to hinder you...but...but...couldn't I go with you? Like Anthony did? Please! I don't want you to leave me behind.'
'I'm not going to seek another commission,' he said quietly, 'I can't leave you now—and I'm not taking you to war with me. Do you realise...' his gaze refo-cused slightly as he looked into the past '...I have spent eighteen years of my life almost continually at sea. And for all of that time—except for the brief peace over ten years ago—England has been at war. Every morning before dawn the ship is piped to quarters, so that if the new day reveals an enemy on the horizon we are immediately ready to go into battle. Every morning before dawn, whether midshipman or captain, I have roused up ready to fight—though weeks might go by before the fight takes place.'
He paused and refocused on Abigail. He smiled at her and she could feel a new sense of peace and certainty within him.
'More than half my life has been spent at war,' he said, 'I'm weary of war. I want to make love to you at dawn. Then walk across dew-covered fields and startle a rabbit from cover—not an enemy frigate.'
Abigail smiled at him, happy tears shimmering in her eyes, 'I expect you will sometimes enjoy a solitary stroll,' she said. 'But—if you should happen to want me to accompany you occasionally—can we have breakfast first? I'm not very alert first thing in the morning.'
Gifford grinned, 'I give you my permission to stay in our cosy bed while I brave the belligerent rabbits,
lazybones.' He skimmed his hands down her body, then repositioned her slightly. 'You mentioned you might need some help in giving yourself to me,' he reminded her. 'May 1 make some suggestions—just to help you begin?'
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Gifford's Lady Page 27
