A VOYAGE TO REMEMBER
Chapter Fourteen

Harold pulled away from the embrace to look at his watch. It was nearly half past seven. He would have to be on duty at eight. He sighed and frowned slightly. Isolde kissed his cheek comfortingly. She looped her arm in his.

"I'll walk you to your room," he mumbled, upset that he would have to leave her, even if it was only until tomorrow.

Isolde was about to accept, but the thought of a run-in with Shamus entered her mind. She began to shake her head. Harold stopped walking and looked at her curiously.

"Harold," she began in one of her brightest voices, "you have to be on duty. I don't want you in trouble because of me."

"But--" Harold began, not wanting to leave her so soon.

"No buts," she said with a bell-like laugh. "When do you want to see me tomorrow?"

"How about half past eight tomorrow night?" he asked after a moment's thought. "At the stern."

"So late?" she inquired with a frown.

"I'm sorry," he began, apology lacing his voice. "I have a bit of a tight schedule."

"All right," she said cheerily. She got on her tiptoes for a quick kiss.

Harold grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer. After a few minutes, Isolde reluctantly untangled herself from the embrace. She smiled at him.

Unsure if this was too bold, she whispered just loud enough for him to hear her say, "I love you."

Harold's heart leapt for joy. It was the first time she had ever said that to him. He grinned, unable to hide his happiness.

He picked her up in an embrace, whispering back to her as he buried his face in her hair. "I love you."

Isolde pulled away once again. She stepped back before he could kiss her again. He frowned. She simply waved good-bye to him, skipping off happily. He laughed as he saw her hop across the deck. He made his way to his quarters, a skip in his own step as well.

Meanwhile, Isolde was on the elevator, going down to F-Deck. She scooted off quickly. The loud party from the dining area echoed down the halls. Deciding to skip it for the night, she made her way to her quarters. She grabbed her heavy flannel nightgown and headed towards the bathroom.

After nearly a half hour of readying herself, she finally headed back to her bed. Thoughts of Harold constantly ran through her mind. Where would they live? What would her parents think? Was this happening too fast? She slowed down her questioning, calming herself with the idea that it would all happen in good time.

She lay down on the top bunk, no one else in the room. Clutching the pillow, she looked up at the white ceiling. Just as she was about the fall asleep, the door opened, slamming against the paneled walls. She looked down to see a furiously angry Shamus.

Chapter Fifteen
Stories