Epilogue
Isaac
Savannah, GA
Two weeks later
The sun hung low, yet fierce, in the late afternoon sky, casting golden shafts across the deck and gilding the river’s surface with light.
Beneath Isaac’s boots, the deck creaked with the quiet stretch of timber soaked in heat.
Brine and tar mingled with the sweeter wafts of molasses and drying tobacco drifting up from the warehouses.
Canvas snapped gently in the breeze, a familiar conversation between the wind and the rigging.
A commotion came from the main deck and he strode to the rail.
Warmth bloomed in his chest as a broad smile curved across his face.
Josephine stood next to Samantha, dressed in a sea-blue gown that caught the sunlight and shimmered like the tide.
The color played against her dark hair, which spilled over her shoulders in loose waves.
She scanned the deck, her gaze quick to find him—and when it did, her expression softened, eyes shining with something that pulled the air from his lungs.
His wife. His compass. And for the first time since their hasty wedding, he was leaving her behind.
A fresh gust lifted the edge of the flag behind him, snapping it with sudden force.
He exhaled, slow and steady, willing the uncomfortable pressure in his chest to settle.
This was duty. This was the life they both knew he’d return to.
Still—knowing he’d set sail without her settled a lonely weight behind his ribs.
With a fluid grace, she moved toward the base of the stairs leading up to him.
His eyes traced the sway of her hips, searing the picture into memory.
She climbed the steps and came to stand beside him, her gaze flickering out over the water before meeting his eyes.
“You seem so far away already, gazing out over the water like that.”
Isaac gave a tight smile, trying to hide the unease in his gut. “Just thinking.”
Josephine didn’t press further. She simply stood beside him, her presence a balm for his frayed nerves, even if it made the ache of leaving that much harder to bear.
Her hand brushed lightly against his, a subtle touch that somehow seemed to convey more than words ever could.
The noise of the ship, the murmurs of the crew, faded into the distance as the world narrowed to the space between them.
For a long moment, they stood in silence, the steady breeze sweeping between them.
She stole a glance up at him. “Are you worried?”
He nuzzled into her hair, the already familiar scent anchoring him. “Would you think less of me if I said a little?”
“Not in this lifetime. Not in any.”
“Good. Because I am worried. Worried what Thorne is going to do next. Worried about who else is involved. Worried about what was so important to hide that a whole group of men had no qualms killing someone’s wife.
” He let out a long exhale. “Worried if I’ll even have a job after I get to Washington. ”
Her palm settled over his with a soft squeeze. “You don’t have to face any of that alone.”
The simple words struck deeper than any oath and he rested his forehead against hers for a moment before drawing back. “God help me… leaving you feels impossible.”
She offered him a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m rather glad you’re going to Washington over chasing Thorne.”
He pressed his jaw together. It would come soon enough. Whether he—or she—liked it or not.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Isaac.” Her voice came steady but quiet, almost as though she were saying it more to herself than to him.
The words hit him like a blow to the chest, a rush of warmth and anguish flooding his veins. Waiting. She would wait for him. And that, perhaps, was the hardest part of all. That she would stand on the dock, watch him sail away, and trust that he would come back to her.
He turned his face toward the horizon, trying to steady his racing thoughts. There was a lump in his throat, a tightness in his chest that made it hard to breathe. “Don’t wait too long,” he finally managed, voice hoarse with the emotion he’d been holding back.
“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” Promise filled her words. She slanted her gaze to meet his with a wry smile. “But, don’t make me wait longer than necessary.”
His fingers laced through hers and he tugged her close, bending to meet her lips. She gasped, and he caught the sound with his mouth, deepening the kiss with a hunger tempered by restraint. One hand rose to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin, committing its smooth warmth to memory.
“I love you.” He breathed the truth against the curve of her lips, his arms drawing her into an embrace that left no room for doubt.
“Forever.” She leaned into him, the word wrapped in tenderness and promise.
*
Josephine
“Goodbye.”
The whispered word drifted on the breeze, swallowed by the murmur of the river. Josephine and Samantha lingered at the dock’s edge, staring at the spot where the tall masts had vanished beyond the river bend.
With a sigh, she turned to her friend. “Does it ever get easier?”
A copper brow lifted. “To be honest, I don’t know. Christian and I never sail without each other…” Her voice drifted off as her eyes pressed shut. “At least we haven’t up until now.”
The melancholy in Josephine’s chest shifted, making room for a quiet sympathy.
When they had arrived back from Tortuga, Samantha had been furious when she found her husband missing.
Even more so when she discovered his note explaining he had gone to join his father—the same man who had murdered her parents.
Josephine twisted her hands together. “I’m sorry”
“Don’t be. Christian is the one who’s going to be sorry when I get my hands on him.” She spun toward her ship, her jaunty red feather bouncing with each agitated step.
Josephine’s gaze traveled from the polished rapier to the unconventional breeches, before falling in step beside her. Samantha was one of the fiercest women she’d ever met, let alone imagined. She could only imagine the type of set down her friend would give her husband.
“Don’t people talk?” Josephine nodded toward Samantha’s outfit.
Her friend chuckled, the sound skipping lightly off the water as they walked along the dock. “Of course they do.”
“Does it bother you?”
The corner of Samantha’s mouth twitched. “No. I feel sorry for them. They’ll never taste the thrill of adventure.” She gave a theatrical shudder. “What a dull life.”
A dull life indeed. Josephine couldn’t help her grin.
They climbed the Siren’s gangplank. Onboard, Samantha ran her hand over a smooth rail and a wistful smile played across her face. “Soon, my beauty.” The words came out in a barely-there whisper, as if she were talking to herself.
A flurry of activity filled the deck around them as the crew coiled ropes and fastened cargo in place.
Several men climbed into the rigging, their movements sure and practiced, and she jerked her gaze down as a flutter ran through her stomach.
The subtle rhythm of the ship under her feet sent her pulse quickening, as if the Siren herself were daring her to embrace this world.
Josephine frowned. “It looks like you’re getting ready to sail.”
Samantha didn’t answer as they climbed to the quarterdeck. She examined the wheel, spinning it one way, then the next before meeting Josephine’s eyes.
“I’m going after my wayward husband.” She gave the wheel one last sharp turn. “And I need to check on Abigail.”
“You’re going to New Orleans?”
Her friend nodded.
Josephine blinked. “But won’t Christian be going the opposite way, to Washington? I thought Isaac told Thorne the Rosses went there?”
Samantha set her jaw and stared out over the water. “I’m not sure he said anything of the sort. Thorne’s too clever to fall for that kind of ruse, and Christian knows it—he’s remarkably like his father in that regard. I’d almost guarantee he’s headed for New Orleans.”
A knot curled in Josephine’s gut as the memory of Abigail’s terrified face in the cart flashed before her. That knot turned to icy dread when she thought of the pirate captain’s brutal tactics. If he got his hands on Abigail… She shivered.
“Do you think your uncle will be able to keep her safe?”
Samantha traced a finger over the carved wood of the wheel, eyes on the deck. “He’s the best chance she has.”
A sailor with a graying beard jogged up the steps. “We’re ready, Captain.”
“Very good. Tell the crew to stand by while I get Mrs. Caldwell back to shore.”
He nodded and returned to the main deck, barking orders. Samantha and Josephine followed, making their way toward the gangplank.
“Goodbye for now. Try to keep yourself occupied; it will help the time go by faster.” Samantha nodded a greeting to a passing sailor, her words falling flat.
“I’m sure I’ll keep busy getting settled into the townhome.” Josephine forced a smile and sighed. “Though I wish you didn’t have to go.”
“Hopefully, I won’t be gone long. I’m excited to spend more time with you on my return.”
Josephine’s throat tightened, a lump forming as she swallowed. Though her friend hid it well behind her confident smile, the flicker in her eyes betrayed the quiet hurt she carried. She jerked to a stop at the top of the gangplank and spun.
“Let me come with you.”
Samantha stilled. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
Josephine let out an unladylike snort, arms crossing over her chest. “More dangerous than anything I’ve faced the last month?”
“Yes, you’ve survived a great deal. Still, anytime Thorne is involved, nothing is ever simple or safe.”
With a huff, Josephine squared her shoulders. “I’m not taking no for an answer. If you won’t let me come, you’ll have to drag me off the ship yourself.” Her gaze flicked toward the water. “Or throw me overboard.”
Samantha’s brows drew together, a sly curve tugging at her lips. “Don’t be so dramatic. Besides, I thought stowing away was more your suit.”
A small thrill sparked in Josephine’s chest. “Don’t tempt me.”
Her friend gave a worried glance back at the waiting crew. After a long moment, she let out a resigned exhale. “Very well. But it won’t be easy. If you’re to sail under my command, you’ll need to be properly trained in sword fighting—and how to handle a ship.”
The rush sliding through Josephine’s veins made her breath catch. “I look forward to it.” Somehow, her voice remained steady despite her pounding pulse.
“Oh.” Samantha let the word hang for a beat. “You still have those breeches of yours?”
Josephine leveled a pointed look at her. “No. But I know who I can borrow some from.”
Samantha’s answering laugh rang out over the river. “I sure am glad I met you.” Her grin faded as she straightened, eyes narrowing on the horizon. “We’ll be sailing hard. Christian has at least a week’s head start on us.”
“Perhaps we’ll reach him before he finds Thorne.” Josephine’s hopeful words made her friend stiffen.
“May it be so.” Samantha’s lips pressed together as her palm settled on the hilt of her rapier. “If not, God help us all.”
The End