Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The gold’s no more than dross to me, alas! my heart is sunk full low,
The want of thy sweet company will surely prove my overthrow:
Therefore, dearest, do not leave me, here tormented on the shore;
Let us not sever, love, forever, lest I ne’er shall see thee more!
— ANONYMOUS, “THE UNDAUNTED SEAMAN”
“Another story, tell us another story!” the children chanted as they sat around Sara on the beach.
Two days had passed since she’d agreed to marry Gideon, two glorious, blissful days.
The children had noticed her mood, of course.
How could they not when she wore a silly grin all the time and wandered about as if in a dream?
That was why they’d been able to convince her today to skip their lessons in favor of stories.
And she didn’t even care. At the moment she was so happy, she’d gladly give tea and crumpets to the devil if he asked her nicely for them.
Ann, however, was more practical-minded than she for once. She clucked her tongue at the children. “Now there, lads and lasses, she’s already told you three stories. Surely that’s enough for now.”
“I don’t mind—” Sara began.
A deep male voice interrupted her. “I’ll tell the children a story if they’d like.”
Sara looked around to find Gideon standing behind her, looking more content and carefree than she’d ever seen him.
He strolled up next to her, a mischievous smile on his tanned face.
The wind ruffled his raven-black hair, blowing it around his cheeks and softening the usually hard lines of his jaw.
When he winked at her, she couldn’t help but smile.
Why, sometimes the man seemed like a little boy himself.
“I’m sure they’d love to hear a story from you, Gideon,” she said. “Wouldn’t you, children?”
There was an awful silence behind her. She turned to find the children regarding Gideon with a mixture of awe and fear.
Gideon had shown little interest in the children until now, probably because he was so busy supervising the rebuilding of the island.
As a result, they knew little about him except that he and his men had captured them and their mothers.
If the children had been older, they might not have been so intimidated. But they were, after all, very young. The eldest boy was only six and the eldest girl merely nine.
Ann broke the uncomfortable silence with a sniff. “Don’t be shy now. I know you little ones would enjoy a story from the captain. Surely you’re tired of hearin’ me and Miss Willis all the time, ain’t you?”
Under Ann’s stern gaze, the children began to nod one at a time, though with more fear than enthusiasm.
Gideon squatted down beside Sara, his manner easy as he flashed the children a smile.
“Look here, all of you. I know you’ve heard some fearsome things about me.
I’ll not lie to you. Some are true. I have stolen a jewel or two in my day, and I’ve fought many battles, mostly in defense of my country. ”
The children stared at him wide-eyed. He went on, pitching his voice above the surf.
“But a lot of what you think about me isn’t true at all.
The ship is named the Satyr, not the Satan.
” He gave them a wicked grin. “And while I may resemble him in some respect, I am not the devil.” Tilting his head down, he parted his hair with both hands.
“Look close. Do you see any horns hiding in this hair of mine?” He sat back on the sand and removed one boot, then held up a bare foot and wiggled his toes.
“What about hooves? Do you see any hooves? I don’t.
” He pulled his foot up as if to inspect it himself.
Then he wrinkled his nose. “No hooves, but they sure do smell.”
Molly’s little girl, Jane, who was sitting in front, giggled, then covered her mouth with her hand.
Pressing his advantage, Gideon stuck his foot in front of Jane and wriggled his toes again.
“Want to smell my foot?” When she shook her head with another giggle, he waved his foot in the air in front of her.
“Maybe you’d like to check to see if I’ve hidden a hoof somewhere? Behind the toes maybe? Under the heel?”
A couple of the other children giggled.
“Go on then. See if you can find my hooves.” Jane reached out a tentative hand to touch his toes. “Now don’t tickle me,” he warned. “I’m very ticklish.”
Sara suppressed a smile. There wasn’t a ticklish bone in that man’s body, and she should know, having explored every inch of him quite intimately.
Jane brushed his heel with her fingers, and he let out a fake laugh.
“Stop, please stop!” he cried in mock fear.
“I told you I’m ticklish!” That, of course, prompted bolder attempts to tickle him, and soon the other children were trying to make him laugh.
Before long, they were swarming all over him, a mass of tickling, squealing, laughing children.
She watched, a lump forming in her throat. He would make such a good father. She could imagine him tumbling around in the sand with his own dark-headed boy or wide-eyed girl. How glad she was that she was marrying him.
Now if only she could be sure Jordan wouldn’t ruin everything.
She brightened. He might not come, of course.
Thanks to Gideon’s change of heart, she’d been able to send a letter to Jordan, telling him not to.
With any luck, it would reach him in enough time to convince him she was fine and he need not come after her.
After all, only three weeks had passed since Petey left and the sailor probably hadn’t even found a ship sailing from the Cape Verdes to England yet.
Why, her letter might end up leaving on the same ship as Petey.
And even if the letter reached England after Jordan left and Jordan did show up on the island, it would be too late anyway.
The minister would be here in two days, and then she and Gideon would be well and truly married.
Even Jordan wouldn’t expect her to leave behind her husband, the man she loved.
The man she loved. A pang gripped her chest. Oh, yes, she loved Gideon, so much she could hardly bear it sometimes.
She’d realized it the night he’d told her about his mother, the night he’d made love to her with such sweetness, it had nearly broken her heart.
She’d wanted to tell him then, but her feelings were so fresh, so new she didn’t think she could stand it if he didn’t say the words back.
There was a part of him that still didn’t trust her, no matter what he said, and he wouldn’t feel completely sure of her until they married.
How had this happened? When had making a former pirate captain happy become the most important thing in her life? She didn’t know, and what’s more, she didn’t care. Her feelings weren’t going to change.
That’s why she’d agreed to marry him. There’d no longer been any point to pretending she could just blithely sail away with Jordan if he came for her. She could no more leave Gideon than she could stop breathing.
Besides, she had no desire to exchange the serenity of Atlantis for London.
In London, she’d always felt as if she were sticking her fingers in a leaky dike to keep the dirty flood of poverty and crime and death from inundating the city.
She’d had little help from her peers, who’d scoffed at her for her efforts.
And no matter how hard she’d tried, there were always more losses than gains.
On Atlantis, however, she could really help people.
Thanks partly to her, the women had begun to rely on themselves.
The men had begun to show a newfound respect for the women, to ask what they wanted and to make little courtly gestures that endeared them to their sweethearts. Most of them truly were nice men.
Together the men and women were building something lasting.
It did her heart good to watch people who’d been discarded by their countries regain their self-respect and find a useful purpose.
Every day she woke up eager for the new day to begin, eager to explore more of the island and find new enjoyments to share with Gideon.
There was only one thing she felt guilty about—that she hadn’t pressed Gideon on the issue of the women.
Afraid to tear the fragile thread of happiness joining them, they’d both avoided the subject of the marriages.
But she’d have to bring it up soon. The month he’d given the women ended in two days, and though most of the women had chosen husbands, some still balked at marrying, particularly those who’d left devoted husbands or sweethearts in England.
Surely when she explained their reasons to Gideon, however, he would make an exception for them.
She’d come to realize in the past weeks that Gideon was a rational man, capable of great generosity.
For all his cynicism, he hoped for something better and was willing to strive to find it.
He would see her side of it once she showed him it was the best thing for the colony.
She saw him settle the laughing children about him and begin to tell them a story about One-Eyed Jack, the ship’s parrot with a liking for salt beef.
Trailing her hand idly in the sand, she watched him with her heart in her throat, lovingly memorizing his every feature .
. . his scarred cheek, which she’d once thought looked ominous and now looked so dear .
. . his blunt, capable fingers that had brought her to wild fulfillment several times in the past few days .
. . his absurdly naked feet with the black hair sprinkled across his toes.
Oh, yes, she loved him top to bottom. And though he hadn’t yet said the words, she knew he would. He had to. She wouldn’t let him not love her.
He finished his story, and the children clamored for another, but he held up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m sorry, children, but I can’t. Not just now. Silas and the others are waiting for me. We’re going on a hunting expedition.”