My eyes widened as I listened intently to Timothy’s story.
“My father planned to go after the Queen’s Dowry himself, but he needed a ship. So, he started small, overtaking first a fishing vessel, then a small sloop. He found other desperate men who joined his crew, and soon, they had a frigate at their command. They were bold and reckless, but my father hated every minute of it. He hated seeing fear in the eyes of the men he robbed. His conscience was eating him alive, so when he got word that my mother had died in childbirth with their fourth child, he knew we needed him. He turned himself in to Governor Eden in South Carolina and received the King’s Pardon before making his way home to Boston.”
“He gave up on the Queen’s Dowry?” I whispered.
Timothy nodded. “He said no treasure in the world was worth his sons growing up as orphans.”
“’Tis an admirable tale, Timothy.”
“My father is a good man.”
I pressed closer to Timothy, so no one would hear. “Did he ever tell you where the treasure is hiding?”
“Nay. He said that no man should live with the temptation he has. It’s been a constant battle to not go after it. But he remarried and has another passel of children and won’t leave them or his wife to chase after gold.”
“You must be feeling better,” a deep, male voice said from behind us.
I spun, my heart racing as Timothy jumped.
Marcus stood on the main deck, his feet planted and his arms crossed.
Something stormy swirled in his gaze—something I’d never seen before. Jealousy?
Timothy was gone by the time I turned back to the railing.
“Should you be up and about?” Marcus asked me, a challenge in his voice.
I was feeling tired again, but I lifted my chin, not willing to let on that I was exhausted. “You’re back early.”
“I never left. The captain has called off the recovery efforts. We’ll meet tonight to discuss our next move.”
“Will we head north?”
“Aye.” His arms were still crossed, and his gaze followed Timothy before he looked back at me. “But I don’t think you’ll like where the captain’s heading next.”
I leaned against the railing, suddenly feeling weaker still. There was only one place I didn’t want to go.
“Charleston?”
With his brief nod, my heart fell.
20
AUGUST 14, 1927
MINNEAPOLIS, MINNESOTA
I thought of little else but Marcus’s announcement the next morning. It was Sunday, so I ate an early breakfast with Father and Mother and walked the five minutes to the church where Father had pastored most of my life until he’d begun to travel and gain notoriety. The new pastor was young and eager and liked the attention that Father’s presence brought each Sunday we could attend. We sat through the service, and then returned home. The last thing I wanted to do was visit South Carolina, but I would have no choice. The only benefit would be to post a letter to Grandfather and Nanny, but I would have to do it right before we left the city, so Grandfather wouldn’t have time to look for me.
“You are quiet today,” Mother said as she walked beside me up the steps and into the house, just behind Father. “You haven’t told me how your time with Lewis went the other night.”
“It was pleasant,” I said with a smile. “The sunken garden at Como Park is beautiful.”
“Did he ... declare himself?”
Father turned sharply at that question. “What is this?” he asked, standing in the foyer. “Who is declaring themselves for Caroline?”
“Lewis,” Mother said.
