He watched as she drank silently from the glass, her eyes faraway. Finally he continued, "If you want, I'll send Joan to help you pack up." He emptied the second glass of brandy, then set it back on the sideboard. When he turned back to her, he was half smiling. "I suppose I've been assuming you're going with me, just because I want you to so badly. Well?"
She looked again at the servants, then around the room. At last she turned to Winston. "Hold me."
He walked slowly to the chair and lifted her into his arms. He ran his hands through her wet hair, then brought up her lips. At last he spoke. "Does that mean yes?"
She nodded silently.
"Then I've got to go. Just pack what you think you'll want, but not too many silk skirts and bodices. You won't be needing them where we're going. Try and bring some of those riding breeches of yours."
She hugged him tighter. "I was just thinking of our 'little island.' When was that?"
"Yesterday. Just yesterday. But there're lots of islands in the Caribbean."
"Yesterday." She drew back and looked at him. "And tomorrow?"
"This time tomorrow we'll be at sea, or we'll be at the bottom of the bay out there." He kissed her one last time. "I'll send Joan quick as I can. So please hurry."
Before she could say more, he stalked out into the rain and was gone.