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 init 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 theOcean Curseto 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 notcreate 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.
