A cool breeze wafted in from the sea, dancing through her curls and stirring up the foam atop waves as they crashed ashore. Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and watched the final rays of the sun disappear. Bit by bit, the luminous colors faded to gray as the encroaching night pushed them behind the horizon—unwilling to give up its appointed time to reign.
It was hard to believe this was the same beach she had crawled onto five months ago, battered and beaten, both inside and out, a lost girl running from life—running from God. But the Almighty had rescued her in every way possible. Made her a new person and gave her new life.
She lacked only one thing—Merrick. After she had watched him sail away to confront the British frigate, she’d cried out to God for weeks, pleading with him to bring Merrick back to her. When no answer had come, she had sulked about the island for days, unable to speak to anyone—especially God.
One night, after an endless day of weeping and self-pity, Charlisse had dropped to the sand, too tired to move and too despondent to care. Sinking her head to her knees, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep until the rising tide brought the gentle caress of a wave over her feet and a large battered shell to her side, its halves slightly parted. Picking it up, she pried it open to find a white pearl glimmering atop a throne of gray flesh like a princess perched in the mud. Charlisse plucked it from its home, remembering a story from the Bible about a pearl of great price and a man who had sold everything he owned to buy it.
At that instant, a lazy moon peeked over the horizon and showered its light onto the pearl, and a soft voice echoed within her, telling her that she was the pearl and Christ was the one who had given everything to possess her. He was the only one who could truly fill the emptiness in her soul—the only one who would never leave her, who loved her beyond measure. No man—not even Merrick—could ever do that.
In the days that followed, an incredible peace flooded her as she allowed God to fill her with his love and take his rightful place as her one, true father. No longer plowing around the island in a cloud of despair, she started helping the pirates search for food. They taught her to fish and showed her which plants were edible and which ones to avoid. She even helped Sloane teach his monkey—which he’d named Solomon—to climb palm trees and shake coconuts loose from their branches.
Soon, however, they would be leaving, for the repairs on the Hades’ Revenge were nearly done, and Merrick’s two months were almost spent. Sloane said Merrick had instructed him to settle her in Carolina on a small estate using the treasure the captain had accumulated over the years. Uneasiness sprang at the thought of starting over in a strange place, not knowing a soul, but she knew God would be with her and his plan was best.
Yet she still missed Merrick. The worst part was not knowing what had happened to him. Even with assurances from Sloane that he would seek Merrick after settling her, she feared for his safety. She prayed God would protect him, and not allow him to rot away in prison, or worse, end his life at the end of a rope like a common criminal. Most of all, she prayed they could be together.
Yet as each day passed with no sign of her pirate captain, her heart sank lower and lower, and she hoped she would have the faith and strength to go on without him.
Chapter 47: Lord Hyde of Clarendon
A large, imposing man in a royal suit of black camlet, edged in silver lace, sauntered into the hall of justice, his thick boots clipping ominously over the tile floor. A gold-encrusted sword hung at his side, his hand resting idly on the hilt. He proceeded, scanning the judge’s bench with dark, handsome eyes and an austere expression. Under a plumed tricorne, thick graying hair was pulled back, cavalier style. Two men in similar dress followed close behind him.
The blood drained from Merrick’s face.
The intruder marched gracefully toward the front bench, a wave of gasps flowing in his wake, and halted beside Merrick. After offering him a wink, he faced Judge Wilhelm, whose befuddled stare soon hardened.
“Who, pray tell, are you, sir? And how dare you interrupt these proceedings.”
The man smiled, but his gaze remained steady and authoritative. “Lord Edward Hyde, first Earl of Clarendon, at your service.” Removing his hat, he swept it before him with a bow. The room exploded in astonished exclamations.
The judge’s eyes widened. His face blanched. Merrick thought it possible the poor man would faint on the spot. The other judges whispered among themselves.
“He’s the king’s chief adviser,” a voice behind Merrick proclaimed.
“Also a personal relation by marriage, I hear,” another man added.
Judge Wilhelm rose to his feet, circled the bench, and bowed before the Earl, placing a kiss on his hand. “A thousand pardons, my lord, I did not know it was you.”
Lord Hyde quickly retrieved his hand. “Then you also did not know that this man”—he tilted his head toward Merrick—“this pirate as you call him—this rogue—is my son.”
A rumble of muted voices sprang from the mob—some laughed, some cheered, others shouted obscenities at the judge.
Lord Hyde turned toward his son and smiled.
Judge Wilhelm gaped in stunned silence.
“What on earth are you doing here, Father?”
His father’s unexpected intrusion was just as much a shock to Merrick as it was to the judge. After all, he had not spoken to him for over five years. And the years before that were filled with naught but quarrels and rebellion.
“Isn’t it obvious?” his father replied, one brow lifted. “I have come to save you.” He nonchalantly brushed dust from his elegant coat. “I cannot have the son of Edward Hyde hanged like a common pirate, can I?”
The crier silenced the crowd at the command of Governor Moodyford, who had left his place on the bench and rushed over to meet the Earl, excitement glittering in his eyes. He stood behind Judge Wilhelm, waiting his turn, but the judge remained unmoving, his jaw agape.
Finally, he found his voice. “This man is your son?”
“I believe I made that clear.” Edward withdrew a sealed parchment from within his doublet. “I have the honor of informing you, as is proclaimed in these documents signed by King Charles II himself”—he handed them to Judge Wilhelm—“that the King has been informed of Captain Merrick’s great feats of courage in the pursuit and capture of several Spanish vessels in the West Indies, thereby doing a great service to the crown. Henceforth, any current charges of piracy will be dropped and his immediate release procured.”
Cheers from the crowd ensued. The judge, pale and sweating, broke the seal and perused the documents. With shaking hands, he handed them to the other judges. Then, bowing graciously to Lord Hyde, he instructed the crier to dismiss the court and turned to take his leave.
Merrick whispered in his father’s ear, and the earl’s voice echoed across the hall before the judge could slither out through the side door. “Lord Wilhelm, a word, if you please.” When the judge returned, ashen faced and trembling, Lord Hyde brought up the matter of the prisoner who had been tried prior to Merrick. He insisted the man be given a fair trial with proper witnesses and informed the ill-fated judge that he intended to assign one of the King’s own judicial aides to co-preside over each trial to ensure that justice was served in the future.
The crowd dispersed, and Lord Hyde graciously spoke to the governor and deputy governor of Jamaica before turning back to his son.
Still in shock, Merrick stood before his father, unsure what to expect.
“Faith, you do look like a pirate!” the earl exclaimed.
A familiar feeling of unworthiness resurrected from Merrick’s childhood and weighed heavy on his shoulders. He looked down at his slovenly appearance—his wild hair hanging loose, his dirty, torn clothes—and felt like a little boy again caught playing in the mud.
Chuckling, his father gripped Merrick’s arms. “But word is you’ve grown into quite an honorable man as well.”
Suspicion strung ti
ght through Merrick. He remembered only a tyrant of a father who had ordered Merrick about, insulted him, and belittled him. Never offering love or praise. He remembered a childhood of never doing well enough, never being enough, to please him. But this man seemed different. Something had softened in him.
“I suppose I should thank you for saving my neck, but I understand neither why nor how,” Merrick finally spoke.
“As to the why, well, you’re my son,” his father replied with a gleam in his eye. “As to the how …” He looked up as Reverend Thomas approached. “I believe this man can answer that.”
Merrick soon discovered that his friend had sent a post to his father when Merrick had been imprisoned the second time—informing him of his son’s dire situation. Also included in the letter was a copy of the Letters of Privateering that Merrick had signed and a list of his accomplishments on the Spanish main in the name of England.
Merrick shook Thomas’s hand, drawing him into an embrace. “Once again, you have saved my life.”
“’Twas nothing.” The reverend gazed at Merrick with the affection of a father. “But now I fear there is another who needs me.” Slipping on his hat, he nodded to the earl.
“Always saving the world,” Merrick said.
“One soul at a time.” With a wink, he turned and left.
After Merrick’s chains were removed, Lord Hyde put his arm around his son as they sauntered out of the courthouse. “We have a bit of catching up to do, do we not?”
Merrick, still a bit puzzled over the change in his father, nodded.
“Now, what’s this I hear about a lady?” His father leaned toward him, a sly smile curling his lips. “Miss Charlisse Bristol, I believe?”
♥♥♥
A tiny crab skittered across the sand by Charlisse’s feet, reminding her of her first night on this island so long ago. But she had no more time to wallow in her memories. It was nearly dark, and Sloane would be worried if she didn’t return to camp soon. Rising, she brushed sand from her shabby dress and headed into the jungle. Sloane had set up camp on the exact same beach she had stumbled onto, half-starved and delirious with fever, looking for food. The beach where she’d first met Merrick. Oh, how he had frightened her when she’d first looked up and seen his fierce looks and muscular frame.
As the sun descended, shadows rose from the jungle, and Charlisse tripped over a rock and regretted delaying her return. She’d been so caught up with wonderful memories of Merrick, she’d lost track of time. Yet despite the pain of his loss, she refused to chase him from her thoughts. Merrick was a part of her now and always would be.
Finally firelight from camp flickered through the trees, and she quickened her pace.
A deep voice echoed behind her, “Alas, what rare beauty hides beneath this ragged disguise?”
Heart in her throat, Charlisse whirled around. Merrick leaned casually against a tree, the features of his handsome face, along with the curve of his smile, illuminated by the firelight in the distance. She froze, afraid to move, lest the vision disappear.
“Forgot about me already?” he asked.
She rushed into his arms, nearly knocking him over. Burying her face in his waistcoat, she wept.
“Tears, milady? I somehow expected a happier reunion.” He teased, embracing her.
Pushing back from him, Charlisse touched his face, ran her fingers through his hair, then squeezed the muscles of his arms. “You’re real.”
“I am.” He wiped the tears from her face.
“It’s been so long,” Charlisse said. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I told you I’d come back for you, didn’t I?” Leaning, he pressed his lips on hers. She returned his kiss with all the passion and longing that had been building up for so long, enjoying the spicy taste of him, his salty smell, the scratch of his stubble on her cheek. At first his touch was tender. Then pulling her against him, he kissed her like a man consumed by a desperate hunger.
Breathless, Merrick nudged her back. “You captivate me, Charlisse. I fear I am lost to your charms forever.”
“As I am yours, milord.”
“Good because I’ve come to take you back to Port Royal.”
“But the British are looking for you.”
“Not anymore. I’ve been acquitted.” He brushed a wayward curl from her face.
“But how—”
“’Tis a long story. Meant for another time. But right now I have something to ask you …”
His serious expression caused a prick of alarm. But it didn’t matter what he wanted. He was alive and he was here. And quite elegantly dressed, she might add, just then noticing his attire. He wore a black velvet waistcoat edged in silver over a silk shirt open at the neck. Breeches of black taffeta clung to his muscled thighs before disappearing inside boots that reached his knees. His unruly hair had been combed and tied behind his neck. He seemed apprehensive—or was it nervous?—a most uncommon condition for a fearless pirate.
Pulling a cord from around his neck, he broke it and slid something into his hand. The kneeling on the jungle floor, he gazed up at her. Her confusion gave way to ecstasy when he opened his hand, revealing a diamond-embedded gold band that sparkled in the firelight.
“Charlisse Bristol, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Her hand flew to her mouth. Elation flared in her heart. “You want to marry me?” she asked, unable to believe her ears, and wanting so desperately to hear him say it again.
“With all my heart.”
Charlisse glanced from his hopeful eyes to the glittering ring in his hand, savoring the precious moment, storing it deep in her memories.
“Don’t leave my pirate heart adrift at sea. What is your answer, milady?”
“My answer is yes.” She smiled. “Yes!”
Standing, Merrick slipped the ring on her finger. “It was my mother’s.” He drew Charlisse in his arms.
“I shall cherish it forever,” she whispered.
“As I shall cherish you.” Merrick held her in silence for several moments then whispered in her ear, “Reverend Thomas is ready to marry us as soon as we return. And my father awaits us also.”
“Your father?”
“A part of that long story.” He grinned.
Charlisse couldn’t believe her good fortune. Merrick was alive. He was here, and he loved her. Soon, she would be his wife. How the Lord had blessed her! They had been through so much in the past months. But through it all, God had been faithful. It really was true that all things worked together for good for those who loved God and were called according to his purpose.
His lips met hers again. And Charlisse felt all her fears drift away as she yielded to his touch. She could have stayed all night in his arms, hidden within the tropical maze, but the worried shout of Sloane soon thundered through the trees. Hand in hand, the two lovers emerged from the jungle and entered the camp, much to the old pirate’s delight.
♥♥♥
In the morning, Merrick and Charlisse stood on the foredeck of the Redemption, Merrick’s arms wrapped around her from behind. The mighty ship rose and plunged a steady course through the azure waters, heading straight into the most glorious sunrise Charlisse had ever witnessed. It was the dawn of a new day—the dawn of a new life. With God at the helm of her ship and Merrick by her side, she saw nothing but blue skies and glorious adventures ahead.
Holding her close, Merrick nibbled on her neck. “I love you, Charlisse.” His warm breath sent a ripple through her.
She turned her head and smiled. He pressed his lips upon hers. As the Redemption gently rolled through the Caribbean waters, Charlisse finally understood the meaning of the mighty ship’s name. Standing in the warm, protective arms of the man she loved, blessed and cared for above all by the God of the universe, she thanked her new heavenly Father for the redemption of her soul, the redemption of her life, and the redemption of her heart.
Excerpt from The Reliance!
Book 2 i
n the Legacy of the King’s Pirates series
1668 – Porto Bello, Panama
Captain Edmund Merrick propped his head in his hand and gazed at the angel lying next to him. He eased a curl from her face and smiled as she squirmed and snuggled her head deeper into the pillow. How many nights had he spent without her these past three years? Too many to count. Now that he was back in the Caribbean for good, he found he could not keep his eyes off his precious wife.
Charlisse stirred. Her eyes fluttered open. An ocean breeze floated in from the veranda and danced playfully through her golden curls, then drifted over her nightdress, creating waves of shimmering silk in the candlelight. The alluring nightgown was a gift he had brought her from France—a token that in no way could make up for the many months they had spent apart. Now, as he gazed at the way her feminine curves filled out every inch of the silky fabric, he was beginning to think it was more a gift for himself than for her. Her cheeks grew pink under his perusal. He smiled. Married for nigh three years, and he could still make her blush with a single look.
She returned his grin. “What are you thinking, you cad?”
“What this cad is always thinking when he is near his beautiful wife.” He caressed her cheek.
An explosion shattered the quiet night, sending tremors through the city. Merrick bolted from the bed. Musket shots cracked like fireworks in the distance. He shoved his legs into his breeches then barreled onto the second-story veranda of the hacienda. In the distance, torches and gunfire flashed over Fort San Lorenzo, lighting the night sky. Below the fort swirled the dark waters of the bay, but Merrick could see no enemy ships among the dozens anchored there.
Charlisse touched his arm. “What is happening?”
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