Chapter 23

23

AUGUST 21, 1727 CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

Several days had passed since I'd visited the Coliseum Ballroom and spotted Annie. Lewis visited our house almost every night, giving me updates on his investigation. He assured me Annie hadn't left Saint Paul. She'd been spotted on several occasions, and as soon as he knew where she was staying or where she might go next, he'd take me to her.

He, Irene, and I enjoyed his daily visits—Irene more so than I expected. She primped and preened for him, and he seemed to enjoy her attention. I'd started to wonder if he was coming for her company more than mine, using the excuse of updating me as his reason.

But today wasn't the day to think about Lewis and Irene. Nadine had continued to suffer after her miscarriage, though I had started to suspect it was a sickness of the heart and soul, more so than the body. The captain continued his course toward Charleston, and after catching him at Nadine's bedside one morning, his hand laid tenderly on her forehead, I knew he cared about her. I had overheard Nadine tell the captain that she'd lost the baby, and since we were still heading to Charleston, I knew he wanted her to get help. They hadn't seen me before I slipped away, but it was clear that Nadine had chosen to be his mistress, even though he'd cautioned her against it. Though I wondered if she was now regretting the life she'd chosen.

On that hot August morning as we anchored in a lagoon just north of Charleston Harbor, I stood alongside Hawk, Marcus, and Nadine. A small sloop would take us to shore. The captain would stay on the hidden ship, not wanting to be caught. He believed Nadine would go into the city, see a doctor about the pregnancy, and return the next day under Hawk and Marcus's watch. There was more plunder to be divested of, so Marcus and Hawk would enter the city under those pretenses. But Marcus and I knew what our real intentions were. We would take Nadine to the midwife, and then I would return to Middleburg Plantation.

I carried a small satchel of coins I'd earned on the Ocean Curse . It felt strange and wonderful to have my own money, though I wasn't sure what I would do with it. If Grandfather wouldn't allow me to have the life I wanted, perhaps I could use the money to forge my own path. I was eager to see Nanny again, but my longing to see her was overshadowed by the pain of leaving Marcus.

I didn't want to think of the future, so I focused on the familiar shoreline of South Carolina as we made our way toward Charleston.

It was strange to think that I would never stand on board the Ocean Curse again. In just a few hours, Marcus and I would say goodbye and I would start the next part of my life—come what may.

He said nothing as we traversed the waterways from the lagoon into the harbor. We had hardly spoken the past five days, and the more I longed for him to fight for me, the more it hurt that he didn't. My love had started to turn to anger, but I wasn't a fool. It was my heart's way of protecting itself from the inevitable parting, though the truth was it still hurt beyond measure. And every time I looked at him, I saw the longing in his eyes, which only made the pain increase.

The cicadas hummed, and the mosquitoes buzzed around us. Nadine was pale and despondent. I wanted to console her but couldn't. Even if she knew I was a woman, Hawk didn't.

As we came into the busy harbor, I had a strange sense of comfort at the familiarity. The tobacco harvest was underway and shipments of it were being sent all over the world, creating more traffic than normal.

It took some time for the sloop to maneuver through the harbor and dock near the long wharf. Very few people paid attention to us as we got off the launch and made our way into the city.

"Carl and I will take Ned to the doctor," Marcus said to Hawk. "If you want to start making inquiries about our cargo, we can plan to meet back here tomorrow evening."

Hawk gave one nod, trusting Marcus to be good to his word. The two men were closer than I'd first realized. Marcus had told me that Hawk was one of the only crew members that had been with him since he'd joined Captain Zale's ship, and he knew Marcus's real identity.

The large man disappeared into the crowd without another word.

Nadine said nothing as Marcus spoke to me. "Where is this midwife?"

"On Chalmers Street," I said as I began to walk in the right direction. "I'll lead the way."

Marcus and Nadine were silent as they followed.

I was dressed as a man, but I still watched for someone who might recognize me. The chances were slim, since I rarely visited Charleston with Grandfather, and when I did, it wasn't to socialize but to conduct business.

When we came to Chalmers Street, I took a right, thankful that I knew of this midwife. She'd been called to Middleburg Plantation on many occasions to help with the births of the indentured servants' children. Grandfather spared no expense in the health of his employees and servants, and Mrs. Drywell's reputation in Charleston was excellent. Her knowledge about childbirth and stillbirth was unmatched in the colony. Upon one trip to town, I had gone with Grandfather to pay for her services and remembered where her home was located.

When we arrived at her house, I started up the steps, but Marcus held back.

"I'll wait out here," he said.

Nadine followed me up the steps to the front door. After knocking, a servant answered, and I told her we had need of Mrs. Drywell's assistance. No questions were asked as we were led inside.

Twenty minutes later, I left the house, knowing Nadine was in good hands.

Marcus paced along the sidewalk, deep in thought, as I approached.

My heart beat hard, knowing what would happen next.

"Nadine will be cared for," I assured him. "She'll sleep here tonight, and you can collect her tomorrow. Mrs. Drywell will give her some medicinal herbs to calm her nerves and to heal any lingering ailments the miscarriage might have created."

"Thank you," he said, his brown eyes filled with a myriad of emotions too tangled to unravel.

I took a deep breath, hoping—willing—for him to tell me that he was having second thoughts about letting me go.

"I suppose I will head toward Middleburg," I said, trying to push back the tears that wanted release. I couldn't even look at him. It hurt too much.

"I can't let you return to your grandfather in such a state, lass."

I had been dirty for so long, I hardly noticed anymore. "I can't walk back to Huger alone dressed as a woman. It would be too dangerous."

"I will escort you home, if you'll allow me."

I finally looked at him, though it felt as if my heart was tearing. The longing in his eyes was so keen, it took my breath away. I wanted to shake him and ask him why he was letting me go when he didn't need to.

"I'll see you safely home before I return to the Ocean Curse ," he promised. "I'd go mad with worry if I didn't take you myself." He touched the sleeve of my shirt—his shirt—and said, "But first, I'll take you to buy a gown, and then I'll get you a room at an inn where you can take a proper bath. We'll rent a carriage, and I'll return you home in the morning."

We could have one more day together. The thought was both a relief and more agony.

It took me so long to respond, he asked, "Will it please you, Caroline?"

I nodded, unable to find words to convey how much it would please me.

He took me to Broad Street, where we found a dressmaker's shop. If the woman was surprised to find two men enter to purchase a gown, she didn't show it. She seemed too interested in making a sale, and I didn't blame her.

There were three ready-made gowns on display that would fit me. One was yellow, one was blue, and the third was maroon. Each was exquisite, made of the finest silk or cotton, with stomachers, bodices, petticoats, skirts, panniers, and lace.

"Choose whichever you prefer," Marcus said quietly.

I didn't even want to touch the fabric for fear I would soil it. "They're too fine," I told him.

"Nay." His eyes were on me and only me. "They are not fine enough."

I turned from him, needing to protect my heart. "Which color do you prefer?" I asked him.

He approached the blue gown, which was the most stunning of the three and no doubt the most expensive. It had fine lace trailing from the sleeves and a stomacher with intricate needlework of darker blue flowers.

"Blue, like the waters of the Caribbean near Nassau." He turned to the shop owner, who was watching us with wide eyes, and said, "I'll take the dress and anything necessary that goes with it."

Her eyes grew wider, if possible, as she nodded and went to work gathering all the necessary undergarments, stockings, shoes, and more.

"I cannot ask you to spend so much," I told him, grabbing hold of his sleeve to stop him. "I'll use my own money."

"Please don't deny me this small pleasure."

His words made me ache, but I nodded.

He pulled several gold coins from his pocket, which caused the shop owner to increase her speed, calling on a girl in the back to come and assist her.

"Could you recommend an inn nearby?" Marcus asked her.

"Indeed, sir." She scurried out from behind her counter and went to the door. She pointed to the west, away from the harbor. "The most beautiful inn is just down the street. A fine establishment with a good reputation. Called the Lining Inn. Tell them I sent you."

Soon, we were walking out of the shop with the owner's young son, who was carrying all our packages.

I felt conspicuous, but Marcus seemed not to notice the attention we generated.

When we arrived at the inn, I was surprised at its grandeur. The clapboard siding was painted a pretty blue with black shutters at the white-trimmed windows. The third floor boasted half a dozen dormers and two tall chimneys.

Marcus entered the establishment without hesitation, and I followed with the dressmaker's son behind me.

The proprietor had two rooms available on the second floor and gave Marcus both keys, promising to have two baths brought up soon. He made no comment about the packages, nor did he ask more questions than necessary.

After the boy delivered the packages to my room, Marcus paid him and sent him on his way.

I stood in the room, admiring the canopied bed, the ornate bureau, and the matching washstand. It was luxurious and strange after living on the ship for months.

Marcus walked to the window and looked down at the street. We'd been alone countless times before, but it suddenly felt different. This was my room, and soon I would be transforming back into the woman I had been before I met him. I swallowed the fluttering nerves and tried not to think about donning a gown and facing him as myself, for the first time.

"Thank you," I said to him. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble."

"If I could—" He paused and then turned to me, his voice raw with emotion. "I would give you the world, Caroline."

A knock at my door signaled the arrival of the servants with a tub and buckets of hot water.

"When you're ready," he said, walking toward the door, "I'll be downstairs waiting."

For the second time that day, my voice was robbed of speech, so I simply nodded.

With one lingering glance, he left my room, allowing me to become Caroline Reed once again.

The warm bath and lavender-scented soap were so splendid, I wanted to stay in the bathtub for hours. Yet the longer it took, the less time I had with Marcus.

After washing my hair and body, I stepped out of the tub and began the task of dressing. Nanny had always helped me in the past, tying my stays, arranging my petticoats, and pinning my stomacher. It was possible to dress myself, but it took longer than I wanted, and I missed her gentle, gnarled hands as they worked while her tender voice regaled me with stories from her past. She was the only reason I was eager to return home.

When I was finished, I stood before the mirror in the rays of the afternoon sun and marveled at the transformation.

The gown fit my body as if it had been made for me. The delicate lace caressed my forearms, and the heavy skirt belled in a becoming fashion, accenting my waist and bosom, which was finally free of the binding. Marcus had purchased a pair of slippers for me, and they were so feminine and delicate compared to the buckled shoes I'd been wearing for weeks.

I left my other clothes in a pile on the chair. I planned to return them to the servant at Middleburg, though I would leave the binding behind.

After I was dressed, I brushed out my hair, allowing it to dry around my shoulders. Just like 1927, my hair here did not have a natural curl, so I had to be creative to style it. Thankfully, it was thick, which made it easier, and the soap had softened it. The dressmaker had packed some hairpins, which I used to turn up the tresses in a series of loops and braids.

My stomach was filled with nerves as I worked, wondering what Marcus would think when he saw me this way. I'd never been so worried or preoccupied with my appearance before. I wanted to please him, though it hardly mattered. This was the last evening we'd spend together, and I wasn't even sure how much time we would have. Perhaps he would leave in search of someone to purchase the plunder on the Ocean Curse , and I would be alone in my room.

The thought saddened me, so I chose to focus on whatever time we had left.

When I was ready, I took a deep breath and left my room in search of Marcus.

It felt strange to walk with such heavy skirts again, to feel the brush of the petticoats against my legs and hear the rustling of the silk.

Butterflies replaced the heaviness in my stomach the moment I saw him. He must have left the inn to find a tailor and a barber, because he was wearing a fine suit of clothes, his face was freshly shaved, and his hair had been trimmed. His coat was dark blue with a row of shining brass buttons down the front. His breeches were the same color as his coat, but his waistcoat beneath was cream with gold needlework. He wore cream-colored stockings to the knee and gold-buckled shoes. At his throat was a cream-colored stock, and his dark hair was still damp but clubbed at the back with a black ribbon.

His broad shoulders filled out the coat magnificently as he leaned against the window frame, a tankard in hand, staring out at the street.

When his gaze shifted to me, he slowly straightened, and his face filled with wonder. His eyes traveled from my feet up to my coiffure, and they shined with approval.

I'd never felt so lovely in all my life.

"Caroline." He said my name in such a way, it sounded like he was trying to convince himself that it was truly me.

I stood on the bottom step, my hand on the newel post, holding me like an anchor.

Marcus set his tankard on a nearby table and walked across the room, his dark brown gaze never leaving mine. When he arrived at the foot of the stairs, he reached for my hand, and I placed it in his.

With elegance and tenderness, he brought my hand to his lips. "I always knew you were bonnie," he said for my ears only, "but you've taken my breath away, lass."

Even standing on the step, I still had to look up at him. My heart pounded so hard, I was afraid he could hear it. And I knew my hand was trembling in his. But I was able to muster some control as he slipped my hand through the crook of his arm and led me into a large dining room.

There were a handful of other patrons, but the servant brought us to a table in the corner, brightened with a single candle, offering us intimate privacy.

Marcus held out a chair for me and then took a seat across from me.

The servant left to get our drinks and meals.

Neither of us spoke as Marcus continued to study me by the glow of the candlelight.

"I almost feel as if I'm meeting you for the first time," he said. "I feel like a nervous, inexperienced lad."

"And what would you say to me, if this was our first meeting?"

His smile was sweet. "I don't think I'd get the courage to approach you."

My own smile felt foreign after days of sadness, but I reveled in it now, determined to forget that this wasn't our first meeting—but our last.

"I've never known a more confident or bold man," I told him. "I think you'd have the courage to approach me."

He shook his head and set his elbows on the table as he clasped his hands. "Nay. That's the pirate you know. The man beneath is not as sure of himself. He knows nothing but pirating."

It struck me with clarity why Marcus Zale—or, rather, Maxwell MacDougal—was still a pirate. "You're afraid to leave pirating because you wouldn't know what else to do with your life."

He held my gaze. "While other men were learning trades or skills, or being educated for teaching or preaching, I was being taught to intimidate, manipulate, and maraud. I don't know how to come by an honest income, and I wouldn't know how to provide for a wife." His gaze caressed my face. "I wish I was a different man, Caroline. I wish, with all my heart, that I had stayed by my mam's side fifteen years ago and I had become the man you could be proud of today."

His honesty was so raw, I felt my nerves melt away, replaced with compassion and understanding. I reached across the table and placed my hand over his. "If you had, then who would have been on the Ocean Curse to care for me? Mayhap, just as you suggested that God has chosen for me to have two lives, He allowed you to make the choice to join Edward Zale so that your life could reflect the goodness and glory of God. Whether by our actions or not, I must believe that all of us can be redeemed from the choices we've made. None are so far gone that they can't find their way back. 'Tis the beauty of grace and forgiveness. Neither would be necessary if we didn't need them."

"Do you really believe that?"

I stared at him for a heartbeat before saying, "I do."

"Even when 'tis you that needs it?"

All my life, I had struggled to believe I was worthy of God's love, believing instead that I had been marked by a curse. But if it was true for Marcus, then it must be true for me. God would not create me for evil, as I'd always feared. But for good. It was His very nature to create goodness.

My mouth quivered. "Aye. I believe I do."

His eyes softened, and he unclasped his hands to wrap them around mine. "You are the best of women, Caroline."

The servant returned with our meals, and we ate heartily, laughing as we shared stories from our past. For an hour, I forgot everything about both of my lives. Everything except Marcus.

I savored the baked chicken with boiled potatoes, gravy, fried artichokes, apple pie, and almond torte. But it was nothing compared to the delicacy of time with the man sitting across from me.

When we were finished, Marcus paid for our meal and asked if I would like to go for a walk.

The evening had fallen on Charleston, and torches had been lit on the cobbled thoroughfares. Broad Street cut across the tip of the peninsula where the city sat between the Ashley and Cooper Rivers.

Marcus reached for my hand and drew it up to slip into the crook of his elbow. I stepped closer to him, loving the feeling of his presence. It was easy to pretend that we were two regular people enjoying each other's company on a beautiful summer night, though neither of us led normal lives.

This was a stolen moment, and both of us knew it.

We walked along the cobbled street, past stores, homes, and open lots. The air was filled with the scents of the city, some pleasant and some foul. At the end of Broad Street, we came to the Ashley River where a large boulder sat near the shore. A few stars had started to twinkle in the gloaming, and there were no torches to light our path here.

A soft symphony of crickets and frogs croaked from the river and nearby marshes, but they were our only companions.

When I looked up at Marcus, I found his gaze upon me.

"Will you sing for me?" he asked.

"Here?"

"I've wanted to ask you a dozen times on the Ocean Curse , but I didn't think it was wise."

Every time I was asked to sing in 1927, I felt the weight of expectations.

This time, it was different. Marcus desired to hear me sing for the pleasure it would bring him and nothing more.

"What would you like me to sing?"

"Whatever pleases you."

Irving Berlin's popular song "Always" was the first that came to mind because it made me think of Marcus. It had been released in 1925, and though it was from a different time and place, I began to sing.

"Everything went wrong,

And the whole day long

I'd feel so blue.

For the longest while

I'd forget to smile,

Then I met you."

His handsome gaze was riveted to my face, and when I finished, his hand came up to my cheek. I leaned into it.

"'Tis the loveliest sound I've ever heard, lass." His thumb brushed the ridge of my cheekbone, sending a trail of fire across my skin, causing me to close my eyes.

"Marc—" I paused and opened my eyes. "Or should I call you Maxwell?"

Something profound shifted in his gaze, and he drew me into his embrace, holding me close. I felt small and helpless in his arms, yet also free and empowered.

"I want to tell you all the things you long to hear," he said as his brogue deepened. "And there is so much I want to say."

"Then say it." I was breathless as I looked up at him. I was done with pretenses and fear. "Tell me what's on your heart, Maxwell."

"I'm afraid if I say what is on my heart, it will make the parting impossible."

"Why must we part?" I grasped the lapels of his coat. "Why does this have to be goodbye?"

His chest rose and fell against mine, and I could feel the beat of his heart, matching my own.

"I can't give you the life you deserve."

"Then give me the life you are able." I needed him to know the depths of my feelings, and this would be my last chance. "I love you."

Joy and sadness filled his gaze as he lowered his forehead to mine, his arms tightening around me. There was desperation in his embrace. "I love you, too," he whispered a moment before his mouth captured mine.

His kiss was filled with passion and longing, searching for an answer to a question I prayed he would find. I returned his kiss, deepening it with the desire that had been building for weeks. I loved Maxwell MacDougal, the man behind the pirate's mask, the man I knew he could be if he had the courage to walk away from the only life he knew.

My hands left his lapels, and I slipped my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer, needing more. I'd never been kissed before, but nothing had ever felt so right, so perfect.

When he pulled back, he was breathing heavily.

I sought my own answers as I looked into his eyes. "I want nothing but you."

He kissed me again, as passionately as before, and when he drew back, he said, "You make me want to be a better man, Caroline." His brogue lilted with desire. "But I don't know how or where to even start."

"Right here," I said, as I took his hand into mine. It was so large, so capable, I knew it was possible for him to do anything. "With me. We'll find a way."

He lifted my hand to his lips. "What if I fail you?"

"What if I fail you?"

"'Tis impossible."

"Aye. 'Tis the same for you."

He kissed me again.

We stayed as long as possible, and then he took my hand and walked me back to the inn.

When we stopped outside my room, he held me for a long time. "I don't know what the future holds," he whispered, "but I want it to be with you. We'll find a way, Caroline. Do you trust me?"

I looked up and smiled, my heart singing a new song.