Charity's Cross

by Marylu Tyndall

  Everyone laughed.

  Hope sashayed forward. “Made all the harder when Faith became a pirate.”

  Charity couldn’t help but chuckle. “Indeed?” She gave Faith a look of reprimand. “I had my suspicions about you, sister dear.”

  Grace slid onto a chair and reached up to hold the dark-haired pirate’s hand. “She was about to be hanged when Dajon saved her.”

  Charity gasped and shook her head. “I see I have missed much.”

  Hope moved to stand beside the third man, a light-haired gentleman in plain attire, bearing a kind face and a confidence about him that put Charity at ease. “This is Nathaniel Mason. But our story is rather boring compared to Faith’s.”

  Grace laughed. “If you call about to be sold as a slave on St. Kitts boring. Or surviving a hurricane at sea only to be stranded on an island.”

  Hope shrugged. “’Twas not so bad when Nathaniel was there.” She gazed up at him.

  Nathaniel drew her hand up for a kiss. “You nearly killed me multiple times, if I recall, kitten.”

  “Oh, pah.” Hope pouted. “I didn’t mean to. Besides, you’re a survivor, Nathaniel Mason.”

  He slid a finger over her jaw and smiled. “I’d have to be to marry you.”

  Charity stared at the happy couple, overjoyed that Hope had found a man strong enough to tame her. She hadn’t the best reputation back in Portsmouth, and Charity had always feared she would end up in a far worse situation than Charity’s.

  Wait. “Did you say marry?”

  Hope lifted her hand, and firelight sparkled over the ring on her finger. “We are to be wed in the spring!”

  “I’m so happy for you, Hope.” Charity hugged her and greeted Nathaniel.

  “And now.” Charity raised a brow and turned to Grace. “Out with it, sister. Do tell me you haven’t married this pirate?”

  The dark-haired man acted indignant. “Zut alors! I am no pirate, Madam,” he spoke in a French accent. “Though I admit I’m related to one. Mais, I beg you, do not say such a thing or ma cherie may change her mind.” He winked at Grace.

  She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. “Never, monsieur.”

  Faith gestured toward the man. “Meet Monsieur Rafe Dubois. He kidnapped Grace in order to sell her to a Spanish Don who wanted revenge on Papa.” She said the words with a yawn as if it were an everyday occurrence, causing them all to laugh.

  Charity’s head spun. “I can’t wait to hear every detail! I thought to come home to three sisters, but now I am blessed to have three brothers as well.”

  “Three brothers.”—Dajon arched a brow and gripped the hilt of his service sword— “who will protect you from whoever is chasing you.”

  Charity’s throat burned with emotion even as confusion tripped her mind. “How did you—”

  “Which brings us to you,” Hope said. “What on earth are you doing here? We thought you were—”

  “On your way to Portsmouth for trial!” Admiral Henry Westcott marched into the room with the authority of his station, dressed in his uniform blues, and wearing his usual scowl.

  At first he merely stared at her, the only indication of emotion the shifting of his jaw. Charity’s insides cringed, awaiting his castigation. But then the oddest thing happened. Tears blurred his eyes, and he seemed to be trying to say something, but choked in the process. Finally, he ran for her and surrounded her with beefy arms.

  “Charity, my child, my precious child.” He rubbed her head, loosening hair from her pins.

  Stunned, Charity stiffened, waiting for the joke to end, the shouting to start. But then he nudged her back to examine her. “You look well! I was so worried. We feared for your life.”

  “You did?”

  Faith intervened. “We heard your husband was dead, Charity.”

  “Indeed.” Her father released her. “At first, word was he died in a duel, and I sailed quickly from my post along the African coast to Portsmouth to bring you home.”

  Charity swallowed, bracing for a flood of shame. “But when you got there, you heard a different tale.”

  “We heard you’d killed your husband,” Grace said, holding Rafe’s hand, yet the usual judgment was missing from her voice.

  “And that you’d fled,” Hope added.

  Charity stared at them all. Why weren’t they angry, ashamed of her, disgusted? Why wasn’t her father ordering her to turn herself in?

  Instead, pulling out a pipe, the Admiral moved to the fire to light it. “Hence, I set sail immediately for Charles Towne, thinking you surely would come here first.” He puffed until rings of smoke shot from the top of his pipe. Somehow, she had missed seeing him enjoy his pipe, missed smelling the sweet, woodsy scent.

  “Dear one.” He looked at her, sorrow in his eyes, then glanced at her sisters. “I’ve not been the best father to you girls, and I’m sorry for it.”

  Charity’s legs turned to pudding. She lowered to the sofa, staring at the man who never apologized for anything.

  “Can you forgive me, Charity?”

  “Of course, Papa.” She fought back tears, tried to rise, but found she couldn’t. “I must admit”—she glanced at her sisters—“we were not the easiest daughters to raise.”

  Dajon coughed, while Monsieur Dubois and Mr. Mason chuckled.

  Charity fingered the rim of her tea cup. “I’m sorry. The news of what I…what happened to my husband must have upset you all.”

  “Upset? Nay.” Faith glanced at Hope. “The scoundrel deserved what he got.”

  Charity’s gaze locked with Hope’s, seeking the anger she deserved. Or at the very least, the pain and sorrow of loss. But she found none of those. “Hope, we must talk. I owe you the deepest of apologies.”

  “You owe me nothing.” The sweetest smile graced her lips. “But I would love to talk.”

  “Regardless,” Grace interjected, breaking the sudden dour mood. “We were terribly worried about you.”

  “In truth,”—Charity lifted her teacup—“I intended to sail here right away but—”

  “Your brother-in-law found you,” her father interjected.

  Confusion spun eddies in Charity’s mind. ”How do you know that?”

  Footsteps pounded in the hallway, drawing all eyes.

  “I told them.” Elias entered the room, his blue eyes latching upon her.

  Chapter 32

  Elias stared at the woman he loved more than anyone in the world, the woman he thought was surely in the middle of the Atlantic by now, locked in some cabin or worse—chained in the hold. When he’d entered the house after helping Lucas settle the horses, he thought he’d heard her sweet voice drifting down the hall, teasing him cruelly. Thinking he was going mad, he’d shaken it from his head, but it rose again, louder and clearer as he approached the parlor.

  Now, as he rubbed his eyes and gazed at her again, he saw it was no trick. She was here! Sitting on the sofa, eyes wide, mouth open, looking a bit tired and bedraggled, but more beautiful than he remembered.

  A thousand questions chased each other through his mind as the teacup slid from her hands and dropped to the carpet by her feet, liquid spilling. Slowly she rose, staring at him in wonderment. “I’m seeing things. You’re not here.”

  He started for her. “I assure you, my little mermaid, I am.”

  Hope giggled.

  Wobbling, Charity raised a hand to her forehead, but he wrapped an arm around her waist before she fell. “See, I’m quite real.” Leaning, he kissed her cheek, wanting to kiss more…wanting to absorb her in his arms, but feeling too many eyes upon them.

  She glanced up at him, eyes moist with shock and joy and love. “How…?”

  “We were planning to sail to England tomorrow for your trial.” Grace tucked an errant strand of hair into her bun. “Father intended to hire the best barrister he could.”

  “He did?” Charity shifted her gaze to her father as if confounded by the idea.

  Elias tapped her affectionately on the nose. “
Praise be to God! How are you here in Charles Towne? Did you jump ship again and swim across the sea?”

  Finally, she smiled. “I do believe my mermaid days are over. Nay. Charles brought me here, if you can believe it.”

  “Your brother-in-law?” Faith cocked her head. “The man who sailed across the sea to bring you back to hang, that Charles?”

  “Yes.” Charity’s eyes twinkled with delight. “And you’ll never guess, but he intends to tell the authorities back home that I didn’t commit the crime. So I am free!” She glanced at all of them.

  Not quite believing his ears, Elias shook his head as cheers shot into the room.

  Grace clasped her hands together, beaming, while Hope and Faith hugged one another.

  “Praise be to God,” Nathaniel exclaimed. Dajon added his “Amen!”, and Rafe began chattering in French.

  Admiral Westcott remained by the fireplace, watching his children proudly.

  Elias brushed a lock of Charity’s hair behind her ear. “I don’t understand. Why would he do that?”

  “’Twas God who convinced him,” Charity replied, staring up at Elias as if she didn’t believe he was real. “’Tis a long, happy story. But you still haven’t told me why you are here.”

  Hope sashayed over to Elias. “Imagine our surprise when Edwin announced that a man looking like a pirate was at our door informing us he was Charity’s beau.”

  “And,” Faith added, hand on her hip. “Telling us quite a tale about pirate attacks, storms, natives, and you running from the noose!”

  Charity gazed up at him, confusion lining her forehead.

  “I came to get their help.” Elias ran a finger down her cheek, smiling. “I knew you had family here with the surname Westcott. ’Twas easy to find them.”

  Admiral Westcott placed a boot on the mantel step and grinned. “Ergo, the reason we were all setting sail on the morrow.”

  Grace smiled at Elias. “In just a few days, Elias has become part of the family.”

  “You have welcomed me warmly.” Elias glanced over them all. “For that, I am most grateful.”

  “Now we see why ’twas so easy to do so.” Hope gave a coy smile. “’Tis obvious Charity adores you.”

  She does? Elias glanced down at her and found a most adorable blush reddening her cheeks.

  “Besides.” Faith’s brow rose. “Turns out Elias has much in common with our beaus. All of them are men of the sea. Nathaniel with his shipyard and merchant business, Dajon and my”—she glanced up at her husband and grinned—“well, whatever we do on the sea. And Rafe’s”—she cleared her throat and chuckled—“sailing experience. You can imagine they’ve had much to discuss.”

  Rafe slapped Elias on the back. “Certainement! Part of the brotherhood of pirates, non?”

  Elias laughed. “Not any more, my friend.”

  “Oui, I have changed my ways as well.” He glanced back at Grace and smiled.

  Admiral Westcott chuckled. “Good thing, or I’d have to arrest both of you.”

  “There is something else I must tell you.” Charity swallowed and took a deep breath. “I am with child.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “My husband’s.”

  At first they all gaped at her, and Elias worried their reaction would put a damper on such a joyful reunion.

  But finally, one by one, they all approached Charity and embraced her. “A child! Oh, my!”

  “How wonderful! We shall have a little one running around the house!” Hope clapped her hands together.

  Elias could swear he saw Admiral Westcott wipe a tear from his eyes. “I do hope ’tis a boy. Egad, I don’t need any more daughters!”

  Everyone laughed.

  Charity glanced up at Elias with such love and promise, he thought he would burst.

  Faith cleared her throat. “Let us give these two some privacy, shall we? Besides, we have unpacking to do.”

  “Oh!” Hope threw hands to her cheeks. “We must have Molly prepare a feast! You may have missed Christmas, but you haven’t missed the feast of Epiphany. We will all go to church tomorrow and then come home to celebrate your homecoming with the greatest feast you’ve ever had.”

  “Wonderful idea,” Grace said, rising.

  Faith stopped before Charity and embraced her once again. “Finally, we are all home together. And this time to stay!”

  Elias forced back his own tears at the happy scene as, one by one, everyone slipped from the room, leaving him alone with Charity. Silently he thanked God for delivering her from the noose, for bringing her here to him—so much more than he had prayed for! But wasn’t that just like God? Yet he hadn’t had time to prepare what he must ask her next, and he found a sudden nervousness tightening his heart. So much had happened since they first declared their love, so many lies exposed, so much heartache. Elias had not fought to save her from Charles, though it was within his power to do so. Did she understand why? Or had the few weeks at sea convinced her he could not be trusted with her heart?

  ♥♥♥

  No sooner did they all leave, than Charity did what she’d been wanting to do ever since Elias had first appeared in the doorway. She turned and fell into his embrace. Arms strong and warm wrapped around her, squeezing tighter and tighter, until she felt as if she would melt into him… become a part of him and never leave. If only she could…

  He laid his chin atop her head. “I still can’t believe you’re here. And free of Villemont!” He rubbed her back. “He was so intent on your punishment.”

  Charity drew in a deep breath of his scent—earth and brine and a new scent, horses this time. “God. ’Twas God who changed his heart.”

  Pushing back, she gazed up at him. “’Tis such a miraculous story, Elias, and I can’t wait to tell you. But for now, I just want to stare at you.” She squeezed his thick, solid arms. “Feel you. Touch you.” She reached up to rub his jaw, rough like sand. And see the love pouring from his eyes. “Elias, is it true? Am I free, and you are here? I never thought I’d see you again.”

  “You didn’t plan on seeking me out?” Pain tainted his voice.

  Turning, she moved to the fireplace, shaking her head. “I’m not good enough for you, Elias. You deserve a real lady, not a damaged one.” She tugged out the cross and cradled it in her hands.

  His bootsteps thudded on the wooden floor toward her. Taking her elbow, he turned her to face him, his gaze dropping to the cross. “You still have it.” He smiled.

  Pulling it over her head, she handed it to him. “Of course. ’Twas all I had left of you.” She placed it in his hand. “You cannot know the strength it brought me, the hope it gave me during my imprisonment on Charles’ ship.”

  “I’m so glad,” he said. “Seems God has used His cross to free us both.”

  Before she could lower her hand, he grabbed it and placed the cross back inside, then gently closed her fingers over it.

  “I lied to you, Elias.” Tears burned her eyes. “I lied to you over and over. How can you ever trust me? Especially after what happened with Rachel.” She looked down at the wood floor and his black boots standing there so firmly—just like the man, a bulwark of strength. “You cannot know how sorry I am.”

  “’Tis true, mermaid, you did spin quite a number of tales for my benefit.” Oddly his voice carried no anger. “And I do hate being lied to.” He huffed, placing hands at his waist.

  Unable to bear his rejection, Charity turned to leave, but he snatched her hand and kept her in place. She lowered her eyes. Not wanting to see his expression when he told her he was glad she was well and safe, that he would have traveled to England to save her from the noose, but that anything that existed between them was over.

  “And you did murder your husband.” His tone bore the slightest hint of humor, and she couldn’t imagine why.

  “’Twas an accident. I hope you know that, Elias. He came at me—”

  He pressed a finger on her lips. “No need. I don’t have to hear it to believe you could never do such a thin
g.”

  She stared up at him.

  “We are all so flawed, we humans.” He cupped her jaw and caressed her cheek. “We make mistakes every day, and we will make many more in our lifetimes. Your intent was to save yourself and your child. How can I blame you for not trusting me or any man after what you endured?”

  “’Tis no excuse, Elias.”

  “Nay, but it is a reason. Besides, how can I not forgive you when God has forgiven me of so much?”

  A tiny speck of hope blossomed in Charity’s heart. A heart that now sped up uncontrollably.

  Elias knelt before her, his handsome face peering up into hers, his eyes full of expectation and a tinge of fear—something she couldn’t recall ever seeing within them. “Charity, I love you. I promise I will never lie to you. I will never hurt you, physically or emotionally. And I will do all in my power to make you happy. Please do me the honor of marrying me.”

  Elation, disbelief, and overwhelming joy tingled over her entire body. Her mind reeled, her breath heightened. Dropping to her knees beside him, laughter bubbled from her lips as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Elias.” She embraced him. “I’m so happy, I shall burst. Of course, I will marry you. Yes, yes, yes!” She covered his face with kisses then pushed back, sudden fear worming its way into her joy. “But the babe?” Had he forgotten?

  He laid his hands on her belly. “I will love him or her as my own.” A mischievous spark twinkled in his eyes. “On one condition.”

  Charity’s stomach tightened. “What?”

  “That we have many more.” He cupped her chin affectionately and drew her lips to his.

  Other books in the Charles Towne Belles!

  The Red Siren, The Blue Enchantress The Raven Saint

  Best-selling author MaryLu Tyndall dreamed of pirates and sea-faring adventures during her childhood days on Florida's Coast. With more than eighteen books published, she makes no excuses for the deep spiritual themes embedded within her romantic adventures. Her hope is that readers will not only be entertained but will be brought closer to the Creator who loves them beyond measure. In a culture that accepts the occult, wizards, zombies, and vampires without batting an eye, MaryLu hopes to show the awesome present and powerful acts of God in a dying world. A Christy award nominee and Inspirational Readers Choice Award winner, MaryLu makes her home with her husband, six children, two grandchildren, and several stray cats on the California coast.