Later that day, Hope finished praying, raised her head, and opened her eyes to the most glorious sight: violet, crimson, peach, and saffron ribbons glittered across the horizon as the last traces of the sun dipped below the dark blue line of the sea. She thanked God for the beauty of His creation—something she had never appreciated before. Truth be told, since she’d given her life over to the Lord, everything seemed more beautiful, more filled with life. She gripped the railing and braced her feet against the foredeck as the ship rose and plunged over a swell. She felt alive and free for the first time. No matter what happened, no matter where life took her, she knew she had a Father in heaven who loved her, who found her worthy, and who would never leave her.
Remorse nipped at the edges of her joy like the wind that now clipped over her curls, trying to loosen them from her pins. So many wasted years spent searching for love to fill the void deep within her—a void she now realized only the love of God could fill. She shook her head. The stupid choices she’d made, the pain she had caused. And the loss. Of her reputation, her purity … of Nathaniel.
She loved him. She would always love him. But her poor choices had erected a sturdy wall between them that even the strongest love could not breach. She deserved his rejection and much worse. But the ache of loss remained.
A warm evening breeze swirled around her, teasing her nose with the scent of the sea, with the sweet fragrance of the coming evening, and with life, and she inhaled a deep breath. When she returned to Charles Towne, despite the financial difficulties she would face, despite the impossibility of restoring her reputation with the citizens of the burgeoning port city, she intended to open an orphanage. In her recent conversations with God, He had made His will plain, further bolstering both her confidence and her faith. At last she could offer lost and unwanted children a safe home, a home where they would be loved and would learn about God’s love. Then they wouldn’t have to make the same mistakes she had and suffer for their bad choices.
In addition, she must beg her sister Grace’s forgiveness for snubbing all of Grace’s efforts to tell her about God. Though perhaps she had gone about it the wrong way, Grace’s heart had been concerned only with Hope’s happiness and eternal destination. Hope smiled at the possibility she and Grace could now become close as sisters should be.
A sail snapped overhead as if sealing her deal with God, and the ship bucked over a wave, anointing her with a refreshing spray. She smiled and gripped the railing as the last bright traces of the day sank beneath the sea, leaving a faint glow on the horizon. But despite the encroaching shadows, the day had not disappeared. It was only hidden for a time, for the darkness could never hide the sun’s bright light for long. It would rise again, forcing back the gloom as it announced a new day.
Digging beneath the sleeve of her gown, Hope pulled out the chipped shell she had found on the island. Holding it up, she smiled at the way it glistened in the fading sunlight. She turned it over, searching for the broken part she had seen before. But it was not there. Perfect in form, symmetrical and beautiful, the shell appeared to have been plucked from the ocean, fresh, clean—pristine.
Had she picked up the wrong shell? Confusion twisted through her, followed by a surge of certainty. No, she had not. Humbled and awed at the love of God, Hope bowed her head and gave Him thanks.
Wiping tears of joy from her face, she turned around and scanned the ship. Two pirates lit lanterns hanging upon the mainmast and foredeck railing. The rest gathered in huddles, drinking and boasting and playing cards. Better she got below before their revelry got underway and they forgot she was a guest of Captain Poole. She crept down the foredeck ladder and tiptoed across the deck, keeping her eyes straight ahead and not acknowledging the lewd remarks tossed her way. She had not seen Nathaniel since earlier in the day and had no idea where he was. That he avoided her was obvious. That his disdain caused her great pain was something she resolved to endure.
Making her way down the companionway and then the dimly lit hallway, she saw a thin strip of light shining beneath her cabin door. Had she left a lantern lit? Horrified, she pushed open the door and rushed inside.
Nathaniel stood beside a washbowl, water dripping down his chest glimmering in the lantern light.
Hope averted her eyes. “Forgive me.” She turned to leave.
“No, please stay.” His voice held a pleading tone that halted her steps.
Leaving the door open, Hope skirted an empty basket on the floor and inched toward her bed, keeping her eyes on the floor. She had seen his bare chest ofttimes on the island, but in this tiny cabin, it seemed inappropriate, and she didn’t like the way her heart leapt.
Grabbing a cloth, he rubbed at the moisture on his chest and closed the door with an ominous thud.
“You wish to speak to me?” She backed into the hard bulkhead.
He approached. His shadow blocked out the lantern light. Stopping before her, he released a heavy sigh, and his warm breath and woodsy scent flowed over her. He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her gaze to his.
Moist brown hair, pressed back from his face, eased down his neck and dangled in wet strands across his broad shoulders. His face filled with curiosity, concern, and … she couldn’t be sure what she saw, for her head began to spin. Her pulse raced, and her breathing quickened.
He smiled. Did he notice her discomfort? She tried to look down, but his finger held her head in place.
He brushed his thumb over her cheek, and Hope closed her eyes. Then he released her, and she heard him take a step back. She thanked God because her knees had begun to shake, and she wasn’t sure she could remain standing much longer with Nathaniel so near. Placing her hands behind her, she braced against the bulkhead and dared to gaze up at him.
Just in time to see his lips lowering to hers.
Gasping, Hope flattened her back against the wood, but there was no escape. Lord, help me, her plea for strength screamed through her mind. She turned her face away. “We shouldn’t.”
He blinked, and one eyebrow rose in an incredulous arch. Stepping back, he scrubbed the cloth over his damp hair. “And why shouldn’t we?” His tone carried no anger, only curiosity.
Despite the yearning storming through her body, Hope gathered her resolve. “Because we are not courting. Or ever will be courting. You have made that quite plain. And I wish to save my affections for the man I plan to marry.” There, she had said it, albeit too fast and perhaps a bit too sharply. But at least she had said the right thing—had done the right thing—and not leapt into his arms and received his kisses like every ounce of her body longed to do.
A grin lifted one corner of his lips. “’Tis a new philosophy of yours?”
“And one which I intend to live my life by. God has shown me a better way.” And it had to be God who was giving her the strength to resist Nathaniel at the moment, for her attraction to him seemed only to have grown.
“He has?” Nathaniel laughed. “Indeed, I am pleased to hear it.”
He turned away from her and tossed the cloth to the table, sending his muscles rippling across his back like swells over a stormy sea. When he faced her again, the respect, the love she had craved to see beaming from his eyes poured over her like warm sunshine. Hope swallowed and threw a hand to her heart to steady its chaotic beat. “You are pleased?” Her voice squeaked.
He smiled, that mischievous, sultry half grin that set her body aflame. Flustered, she dropped her gaze to the fading wound on his arm and then to the bluish scar marring his left side. She must divert the conversation to a safer topic, away from the possibility she saw in his eyes—the possibility that caused her hopes to soar, the possibility that would leave her devastated once again if she entertained its promise. He had made it clear how he felt about her. Nothing had changed. And she mustn’t think otherwise. “What happened to you?”
He followed her gaze to his scar and rubbed it. “I was stabbed.”
“Stabbed? Oh my.” Hope took a step toward him.
“When I was young.” His jaw stiffened. “I was protecting my mother.”
Hope nearly stumbled at the pain burning in his eyes. “Your mother. From whom?”
“A man she displeased,” he spat out, then stared out the porthole. “She was a harlot.”
A harlot? How could such an honorable man have such a wayward mother? The ship creaked over a wave, and Hope gripped the bulkhead, but Nathaniel kept his balance without effort. The muscles in his face twitched, and his mouth flattened into a thin line, his anger keeping him firmly planted to the deck.
“And your father?”
“I never knew him.” He snorted. “My mother thought he was a mason by trade, so she named me Nathaniel Mason.” His laughter shook with suppressed fury.
Hope’s heart collapsed. “I’m sorry.” At least Hope had known her father, though he’d been anything but loving. At least she had a legitimate name, a heritage she could be proud of.
Nathaniel ran a hand through his hair and faced her.
Hope took another step toward him. “What happened to her?” She longed to ease his pain, to smooth the tight lines of sorrow from his face.
He leaned back on the table and gripped the edges, then stared at the dirty floorboards. “We lived in Barbados. When I was eight, my mother grew sick. We had no money. So I moved her down by the beach on the east side of the island.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “’Tis where I learned how to fish and build a hut. Those were good times.” He smiled, but then grief consumed the momentary joy lighting his face. “Mother got well again, and with the money she made, we traveled to Charles Towne. She had heard the ratio of men to women was four to one. Good odds for someone in her trade.” He snickered. “We lived in a room above a tavern. Plenty of men had enough coin to pay, but some were vicious, even cruel to my mother. They beat her.”
“You stayed in the room with her?” Hope’s eyes burned with tears as she stepped closer to Nathaniel.
“When I was little, yes. But later I would wander the town for hours while she worked. One night, I returned to find a man holding a knife to my mother’s neck. When I attacked him, he stabbed me and ran off.”
Hope reached out and eased her fingers over the scar as tears spilled from her eyes. “How horrible.”
He grabbed her hand and held it. “Odd, it still pains me at times.”
Hope nodded, remembering how often he’d rubbed it on the island. “Whenever you feel threatened.”
Nathaniel’s eyes widened, and he ran his fingers through the loose strands of her hair, brushing them back from her face. “You tug your hair for the same reason. I hate it that Lord Villemont hurt you.”
Hope shifted away from his discerning gaze. “’Tis done with.” She sighed. “But you never told me what happened to your mother.”
“Mother grew sick again after that. We had no money for a physician.” Releasing her hand, he stared off, his eyes glazed. “I could not help her. I watched her die.”
Hope swallowed. “So much pain for such a young boy.” She eased beside him. “How did you survive?”
“I wandered the streets for a year before Reverend Halloway found me and took me in.” The haggard lines on his face softened. “You know the rest.”
Hope leaned against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. “I had no idea,” she muttered. No wonder he had been repulsed by her licentiousness. No wonder he feared entangling himself with a woman like her. Heat from his skin warmed her cheek, and she could no longer hold back her tears.
“Don’t cry for me, Hope. God gave me a good home, and Reverend Halloway loved me as a father.” He pressed her against him and leaned his chin atop her head.
Hope pushed away from him, swiping the tears from her face. “That’s precisely why I wish to open an orphanage when I return home. Think of it, Nathaniel. A place for children like you to grow up and receive all the care they need and be taught about God’s love and grace.”
He flinched, and a spark of fear dashed across his face. “’Tis a noble venture for you, and I lo—admire—you greatly for it.”
Hope’s throat constricted. Though he had not said it, his cutting tone spoke volumes. He had no interest in her plans. Which meant he did not see her in his future. Which meant he did not love her—at least not in the way she loved him. A heavy weight landed on her chest. “Your admiration is all I ever wanted, Nathaniel.” She forced a smile. “And much more than I deserve.”
“Is it all you ever wanted?” He cocked his head and grinned.
She studied him, her heart performing a traitorous leap. “Nay. But it is all I dare to expect. You have made your feelings clear.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “I have fought them, to be sure.” He caressed her cheek with the palm of his hand. “But the only thing clear to me now is that I love you, Hope.”
Hope’s heart thundered. “You love me?”
“Is it so inconceivable?” He chuckled.
Hope stared into his eyes, waiting for him to recall his words, deny their veracity, waiting for the jest to play out before she dared to believe it true. A nervous giggle spilled from her lips.
Nathaniel raised a brow. “Am I to be left standing here with no answer but your laughter?”
“No, of course not. I love you, too, Nathaniel.” She leapt toward him, inadvertently kicking the empty basket across the deck just as he took a step in her direction. He tripped on the basket and stumbled across the cabin. Hope threw a hand to her mouth, praying she would not injure him again. He regained his balance, lengthened his stance, and faced her. “Still trying to kill me, eh?” He grinned.
Placing one hand on her waist, Hope gave him a coy grin. “I am a determined lady.” She approached him and gently touched the bump on his forehead, where she’d caused him to slam into the bulkhead, then ran her fingers down the scar on his arm, the one from the sword fight with the major. “Truly, I don’t know what comes over me when you are around.”
“I hope that whatever it is, it will diminish, for I plan to be around you as much as possible.”
“But I am a danger to you.” She pouted.
“That you are.” He swung her around, eased her against the bulkhead, and flung a hand upon the hard wood by her head. “Extremely dangerous.”
His gaze wandered to her lips.
Hope smiled. “Why do I feel as though I’m the one in danger now?”
He chuckled, and she felt his warm breath on her face. Then his lips were on hers, caressing, loving her. And the cabin around Hope faded into a dream world—a world where she was safe, secure, and loved.
With Hope’s sweet kiss still warm on his lips, Nathaniel leapt upon the deck, lighter and more vigorous than he’d been in days, despite his lack of sleep. He made his way up to the bow of the ship, hoping the night breeze would cool his heated skin. It took every scrap of strength within him to leave Miss Hope for the night. He had the perfect excuse to stay, after all, with the captain prowling about, but if he stayed with her after declaring his love, he doubted he could keep from holding her close throughout the entire night. And that would not be wise—for either of them.
Gripping the railing, he bowed his head and thanked God for saving Hope, for changing her heart, and for her love. He still found it hard to believe she returned his affections, especially in light of her obvious attachment to Gavin. But Nathaniel could not deny that her heart belonged to him—he’d seen love burning in her eyes and felt her impassioned response to his kisses. Heat scorched through him at the remembrance.
He had loved Hope from the first moment he’d seen her in Charles Towne, despite the way she snubbed him, despite the salacious rumors spreading throughout the city about her that he had prayed were not true. But now after giving up his prize ship to save her and after all the harrowing events of their journey, as well as his own misgivings about her character, they had finally declared their love for one another. And he vowed to spend the rest of his life giving her all the love she had missed as a child and protecting her from every danger and heartache.
The moon hung high in the sky, smiling down upon him and flinging its sparkling light onto the rolling dark waves. The soothing purl of water as the bow sliced through the sea washed over Nathaniel, releasing from his shoulders a burden of tension he’d been carrying for weeks. Swerving around, he found a level place near the foremast beside a huge barrel and lay down on the hard deck. Putting one hand behind his head, he gazed up at the sails fluttering in the moonlight and drifted to sleep.
Hours later, thumping noises jolted him awake, and he rubbed his eyes and sprang to his feet, ready to defend against some unknown attack. A flash of blue caught his eye, and he glanced to the main deck below, where he saw Hope standing near the railing, her blond hair a beacon in the darkness. A dark shadow loomed beside her.
Alarm stiffened Nathaniel. Was someone accosting her? He dashed to the foredeck ladder, intending to pounce upon the villain, when the figure took Hope in a full embrace—and she did not resist. Slinking into the shadows, Nathaniel rubbed his eyes and peered toward the couple, his heart crumbling in his chest. Perhaps it wasn’t Hope after all? Yet after several seconds, in which the lovers remained entwined, the woman broke away, stepped into the lantern light, offered the man a tender smile, and descended down the companionway. Hope. Nathaniel’s legs betrayed him, and he stumbled.
The man leaned over the railing, and Nathaniel allowed his anger to surge, overcoming his grief. “Who goes there?” he shouted. Whoever it was, he would pound him to the timbers for touching Hope.
The figure turned, allowing the light of a lantern swinging at the foremast to spill over him. Gavin’s sharp eyes met his. “Ah, Nathaniel. There you are. Enduring another sleepless night, I see.”
Shaking the shock from his face, Nathaniel leapt down the foredeck ladder. “Was that Hope I just saw?” He needed to hear it from the man’s lips.
Gavin studied him for a moment, then clapped his back and winked. “Aye. We had quite an evening.”
“Evening?” Nathaniel fisted his hands.
“Aye. You told me I could court her, did you not?” Gavin stretched his arms out like a man quite content with life.
Nathaniel stared at his friend. His tongue had gone numb, along with the rest of him.
“Well, I daresay, the woman moves quick.” Gavin chuckled.
Nathaniel moaned.
“Are you ill, my friend?” Gavin grabbed his arm. “Do you need some water?”
“Are you saying that you and Miss Hope, you …”
Gavin grinned like a cat who had just been fed a satisfying meal after a long fast. He glanced across the deck, then leaned toward Nathaniel. “And she was far better than I expected.”