Authors: Sharon Cullen
Dusk quickly closed in and Morgan turned the tender east. The flames from the
Bhaya
kept the sky bright, a beacon to other ships. Morgan hoped a beacon to Reed and Isabelle.
Juliana watched the debris burn as Morgan kept rowing, alternately searching the area for unfriendly tenders and friendly ships and watching Juliana.
When the small boats were but mere specks and the
Bhaya
a smoldering, sinking, hulk, Morgan pulled the oars in and rested his arms on them. Silently, Juliana searched through their store of food and held up some biscuits.
“This is all we have.”
“I’m not hungry, but you eat.”
She shook her head and put the biscuits away. “I’m not hungry either.”
Morgan stopped himself from pointing out that she needed to eat. Instead he held out his arm and she snuggled into him as he rested his chin on top of her head and looked out over the water. It was a vast ocean and Isabelle had only an idea of where to look. Several miles in either direction and she could miss them entirely. He prayed the
Bhaya
would keep burning through the night.
Juliana drifted off to sleep with her head in his lap. Occasionally her hands would twitch and her body would jerk. He wondered if she dreamed of Barun. Toward dawn the
Bhaya’s
foremast sank and the fire was extinguished. The other tenders were scattered to the four corners and Juliana and Morgan were alone on the ocean.
Thanks to John, they had enough food and ale to last several days if they were careful. One problem solved, but there were others to take its place. Weather, for one. If a storm blew up, Morgan didn’t know if their boat would survive.
Juliana stirred, blinked tired-looking green eyes up at him. He felt a tightening in his chest. A love so brilliant it outshone even the sun. He wanted to hold Juliana tight, to never let her go. He shuddered to think of everything he almost lost and could still lose if they weren’t found. His hands shook with the intensity of his emotions.
“Do you think John made it off the ship?” she asked.
“I don’t know.” And it didn’t matter. John had been a traitor. He put Juliana and their baby in harm’s way and Morgan would not forgive him.
“He set the fires, didn’t he?” she asked.
“I think so.”
“He saved our lives.”
“Yes.”
“He did what he had to in order to save his brother.”
“Maybe.” He didn’t want to talk about John.
Later in the afternoon Morgan was sitting in the stern with Juliana resting against his chest. He was stroking her hair, thinking of the silky softness of it and wondering if help would ever reach them.
“I got my first good look at you in a tender,” she said as they both stared out over the ocean. “After you fished me out of the ocean.”
“You mean after I saved your butt and hauled you up the steps.”
“You pushed me up the steps and left me.”
“I thought you were part of the crew.”
“I thought I was in your barn in Kansas.”
It was edging toward the heat of the day, that hour when the sun begins its descent and the rays were the hottest. Sweat was trickling down his back. He’d rationed the water but worried Juliana wasn’t getting enough.
“Full circle,” Juliana said. “Do you think it will end here?”
As he’d been doing for most of the day, he scanned the horizon. “Turn your head to the right.”
A magnificent five-masted schooner crested the horizon, its sails billowing in the wind, its bow cutting through the waves at an impressive speed.
Morgan hugged Juliana tighter as they watched Isabelle’s ship approach.
Chapter Thirty
Juliana stood at the window of the study and watched Morgan, leaning heavily on his cane, make his way through the garden.
It’d been three months since Isabelle’s
Eve
plucked them from the ocean.
Morgan’s bruises faded. His knee was healing but not quickly enough for his peace of mind. He wanted to be whole again and was frustrated he still needed his cane.
Juliana was healing as well. A small mark in the middle of her palm was all that was left of Barun’s branding. A mark she would bear the rest of her life, a reminder of the bad times. But also a reminder of the strength she found to endure and fight back. In her opinion a tiny scar was a small price to pay for surviving.
The nightmares were slowly fading but occasionally haunted her in the deep of night. She always woke from them wrapped in Morgan’s strong arms, his soft voice whispering in her ear, and she would instantly calm down.
Life continued on. Sophia moved, along with most of the nobility of London, to the country where she would spend the summer. Isabelle and Reed were about to set sail for Boston in a week.
By all accounts everything should be perfect, but it wasn't. Each day Juliana watched Morgan distance himself from her. There was no more laughter and loving, no more arguments or quiet times. He hadn’t touched her in weeks except to hold her during her nightmares.
All because of four words. Four innocent words uttered by Isabelle not long after they returned to London from the
Bhaya
.
Juliana and Morgan had been alone in their townhouse when Isabelle sailed in, pulling off her gloves with a grimace and throwing them on the nearest chair. Two burly men followed, maneuvering a large package through the door.
“We found the mirror,” Isabelle said.
We found the mirror.
In those four words Juliana’s idyllic life shattered.
“What mirror?” she asked through a thick throat, knowing the answer but asking anyway. She looked at Morgan but he wouldn’t meet her gaze.
Isabelle glanced from Juliana to Morgan, her brows pulled together. “When we returned from the
Bhaya
Morgan began making inquiries into a large mirror. He said he wanted to give it to you as a wedding gift.”
Juliana’s heart sank to her knees. She continued to stare at Morgan, waiting for a response, an explanation, something to convince her that her heart was wrong. That Morgan wasn’t looking for the mirror to send her back. But his gaze remained solidly on Isabelle.
Ignorant of what her announcement truly meant, Isabelle went on to say that when Morgan described the mirror, she thought it sounded suspiciously like a piece of cargo the
Molly Victoria
had been carrying. She assumed it was lost when the ship went down, but when she and Reed finally sorted out the cargo of all three ships, they found it in the back of their warehouse.
“Isn’t it a coincidence?” she asked.
Neither Morgan nor Juliana answered.
The mirror now stood in an empty bedchamber while Juliana’s marriage crumbled.
She turned from the window and put a hand on her swelling belly. Enough was enough. They had to face the reappearance of the mirror and deal with it or soon there would be nothing left of their marriage.
She joined him in the garden. It was late August and the day was hot. The flowers bloomed in a riot of colors and the bumble bees took lazy flight as she walked past.
He smiled when she approached, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. It never did anymore.
“You know, when I first met you, or rather when I first met Morgan, I didn’t like you very much.”
He looked surprised. It’d been a while since they talked, really talked about something other than his position with Parker and Parker, the weather, Isabelle and Reed and Sophia. They stopped talking about the important things weeks ago.
“Walk with me.” She waited while he reached for his cane.
They made their way toward the house in silence, holding hands. It’d been so long since they held hands that Juliana wanted to hold tight but forced herself not to cling.
“I don’t blame you for hating me back then.” He reached behind her and on the outside of her dress traced the scars on her back. He’d memorized each one. She knew because he made a habit of kissing them often and expressing his sorrow without words. Or at least he used to. Now he didn’t kiss her at all.
“I was evil and cruel and brutal and a bastard,” he said.
She nodded. “Yes, you were. But I didn’t bring this up because I wanted you to feel guilty.” They entered the house and she led him toward the stairs, relieved to be out of the heat. He hesitated a moment before taking the steps beside her.
“My feelings for you changed after you healed me then rescued me from Barun..”
They stopped at the top and she turned to him, still not letting go of his hand. “So what happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You don’t want me here anymore, do you?” It hurt to ask the question and it hurt even more to wait for the answer. In her heart she wanted him to deny her accusation immediately, but he didn’t. His expression was like a mask, hard, unyielding and unreadable.
She placed his hand on her rounded stomach. “This is your child inside me.” The baby kicked and a look of wonder crossed his face before he quickly pulled his hand away.
Anger made her want to lash out, but she put a tight rein on it. This wasn’t the Morgan she’d come to know and love and she was determined to discover what was going on behind the mask he hid behind. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me to leave? Do you want me to go back to the twenty-first century? Do you never want to see your child?”
For a moment, a tiny second, the answer was in his eyes before he masked his emotions once again. But it was long enough for her to see. Long enough for the hope she’d been harboring to take seed.
She pivoted on her heel and walked away. He called out her name in an anguished voice, but she held her hand up and continued walking until she stood in front of the door to the room that held the mirror.
She pushed the door open revealing the mirror looming before them in the large, otherwise, empty room. The answer or the curse to her marriage? She approached it to find out.
“Don’t,” he said behind her. “Don’t do it.”
“You don’t want me here.”
“I…”
She closed her eyes, the pain too great to bear. Tears slipped from beneath her lids and dripped down her cheek. Their baby moved inside her as if feeling her despair.
“I can’t stay,” she whispered. “I can’t stay and see you every day knowing you don’t want me.”
His hands settled on her shoulders, and she opened her eyes to stare at their reflection.
“Don’t ever think I don’t want you, Juliana.”
“Then why?” she whispered.
“This is no place for you.” He settled his hand on her belly, his touch bordering on reverent, and that was when Juliana finally saw beneath the stoic mask.
“You’re afraid if I have this baby here I won’t make it.”
A pained look crossed his face. “A lot of women don’t.”
“But most women do. I’m strong and healthy, Morgan. I’ve faced Barun and survived. I can give birth in the eighteenth century.”
“What if something happens?”
She turned around in his arms. “Nothing will happen.”
“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not again. Not like that.”
“I won’t go back without you.”
His eyes drifted closed and when they opened there was so much anguish in them she wanted to cry. “Then I’ll go back with you.”
“And what will you do in the twenty-first century? You told me before you have no skills other than sailing.”
“And plundering and killing.” The corner of his mouth lifted in an attempt to smile.
She smiled back, knowing the plundering and killing was far behind him unless someone threatened his family.
“Zach Langtree left when he was seventeen years old,” she said. “He never graduated from high school and has no training that will serve him in the twenty-first century. You’re part owner of one of the biggest shipping companies in the world. You have friends and family who love you. Your life is here. And my life is here with you.” She touched his cheek. “Morgan, I can step in front of a bus in the twenty-first century and be killed. Nothing in life is guaranteed except what we have at this moment in time. I would rather die a thousand deaths than be separated from you for even a moment. Please don’t send me away.”
He pulled her close, her belly impeding her from getting as close as she wanted. She rested her head on his hard chest, loving that she was back in his arms, but wishing it was for a different reason.
“I’m scared,” he whispered.
She had to close her eyes at the pain of hearing her strong warrior admit his fear. Not once during their captivity did he say he was afraid of Barun, a man who could have easily snuffed out his life. He’d acted with bravery and guts to free them, but the thought of her dying during childbirth terrified him.
“We’ll get through this and we’ll have a beautiful baby at the end of it.”
He searched her eyes, his own slowly losing the desperation in them. “But—”
She put a finger to his lips to silence him. “Tell me, honestly, where would you rather live? Here, where you’ve made a good name for yourself and you’re able to provide for your family and do what you love to do, or three hundred years from now? Because wherever you want to be, is where I want to be.”
The answer was in his eyes. He could no more go back to being Zachary Langtree than she could go back to being the seventeen-year-old girl with a head full of dreams.
“I want to stay here,” he said. “I want to raise my children in this time and teach them to sail. I want to show you the world.”
“Then that’s what I want too.”
He pulled her in for a quick hug. “Ah, God, Juliana. I love you so much.”
She squeezed him back. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
Morgan stood at the bow of the
Juliana
and watched London come into view. His first glimpse of England in over six months.
This was the end of the maiden voyage of the ship he’d commissioned Parker and Parker to build. The ship he named after the one woman he loved through all the centuries. It was only fitting he captain her first sailing and he’d done so with eagerness. Living in London was fine, but he missed the open water, the breeze in his hair and the ocean beneath his feet. He missed sailing.