Keep My Heart- Prologue

Keep My Heart- 21

"They do not love that do not show their love. The course of true love never did run smooth. Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love."

 -William Shakespeare

Felicitations, my most faithful readers! I hope that the last chapter satisfied the "Adavia" thirst. Well, that's a lie. If you were satisfied, you would not return to read the next volume of the story and that would be most vexing, indeed. However, please vote and if you want to, drop a comment. I would be overjoyed to get more feedback!

Happy reading! :)

Honor was everything to Adam Hawke, but he had his wife to think of.

Of course, he could have been brash and challenged the mutiny. The Sun Goddess was his property and he could easily trace it back.

As he entered the room and informed her of their bleak situation, he watched her expression change and felt a pang of sorrow that he must be the bearer of bad news to such a pleasingly beautiful woman. Her face emitted a healthy glow, and there was a fecund shifting in his chest.

It appeared her fears had gone full circle.

"My dear wife, it appears we are being marooned."

Within a split second of the forbidden, heavy syllable, the color in her face was gone and she looked strangely frail.

"On an island?" she squeaked.

"Yes. Get your hat and your shawl." They did not have time to quibble but he sensed her shock. It came from her like blood pouring from a wound. And a wound Adam had.

To his pride. To his heart. The Sun Goddess was the embodiment of his whole life's work. From this vessel had his success been expelled. He was angry and saddened and frustrated. All three complex, twisting emotions threatened to swallow him whole, promised to leave an inscrutable shell of a man.

But no, his love for her was stronger than his anger and sadness and frustration. It whirled like a raging hurricane and somehow, he was strengthened by it.

"What are we going to do?" She was swiftly standing close to him, hat set over her dark head, shawl over her shoulders lazily.

"Don't know." He did not know. He loved her and he would be strong for her, but he did not know and he was concerned. The pistol had disappeared and the two men witnessing this scene did not notice.

With forget-me-not blue eyes, she stared up at him, communicating wordlessly. It was tucked ingeniously into her skirt, unnoticable to the eyes that should not be accustomed to such trickery. It was apparent that she had no intention to use it against the men, but she intended to keep it. For her bravery and for her quick thinking, Adam allowed a spirit of a smile to shine.

In her hands, she clutched their toothbrushes and refining powder.

"Hurry along," came a voice behind them.

Beyond him, Olivia stared at the man and her features turned from summer to frosty, chilly winter. "Very well, sir," she spat softly, and met her husband's small smile with an acknowledging look.

When they were backing away from the room, Adam paused and stole a look into it. Olivia had left the door open and the bed was unmade. Things and life changed so quickly. There was a cold knot in his stomach and he swallowed what felt to be shards of broken glass.

But there she was, like a hero swooping in. Small and quiet and sympathetic. "Things will turn out, darling," she murmured.

Her use of the pet name was unusual and almost reticent.