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the
exact moment she realized her state of undress. Her anguished cry
startled a gull perched on an overturned bucket. Thomas just shook
his head, wishing he could keep his body under control.
    He walked down to the shore where the
slow-moving river merged with the sea. As a child he used to come
here often to sit and think. He glanced around but his seat for
those soul-searchings, a cypress log, was gone, probably washed out
to sea by a storm like the one last night.
    Today the sea, like the sky, was calm and
clear. The air smelled sweet and held just enough chill that Thomas
wished his kidnapper had allowed him to bring a jacket... or that
he had the old hunting shirt that Natee fashioned for him out of
deerskin.
    Thomas shook his head and leaned against the
scaled bark of a palmetto. He was standing right here the day he
decided to make the family rich again. He’d come to talk with Natee
after hearing his parents talking about money. It wasn’t a topic
they usually discussed, at least he hadn’t heard them before. But
they seemed very serious, and his mother was crying.
    Natee said money and possessions weren’t
important, that the only thing a man needed was the earth and sky,
the ever-flowing sea, and now and again, a good woman. But Natee
was different from anyone else Thomas knew. His father said the old
man was descended from a Cheraw Indian who had befriended Thomas’s
pirate ancestor, Jack Blackstone. Thomas admired and loved the old
man, but he also knew their philosophies and worlds were
different.
    Thomas’s father lost nearly everything in the
war. And Thomas had regained it. It was as simple as that. Thomas
spread his legs and stared out toward the horizon.
    That’s the way Margaret found him. She
hesitated a moment and took a deep breath. “You could have told
me.”
    Glancing over his shoulder, Thomas looked her
up and down, then arched his brow. “Perhaps I preferred not to.” He
enjoyed the peach blush that colored her cheeks.
    “I suppose, you... undressed me.”
    “There was no one else to do it, and you were
soaked.” He watched as she swallowed and nodded.
    “I understand.” Margaret was trying her best
not to let this bother her. After all, she was a progressive
thinker. And there were so many more important things that had
happened, her modesty meant little in the scheme of things. At
least that’s what she tried to tell herself. But the very idea of
this man seeing her, touching her. A vision of lips, hungry and
devouring, of bodies straining, flirted with her mind and Margaret
shook her head to dispel it. But the illusion wouldn’t disappear
entirely. She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that. It made her
all warm inside despite the chilled air, and Margaret didn’t think
that’s the way she should be feeling about someone she
despised.
    Except she didn’t despise him.
    If nothing else, she owed him for her life.
Of course, now that he was free of her kidnapping, she had a strong
sense that she would somehow pay for his plunge into the sea.
Despite that, she knew what she must do. Squaring her shoulders,
Margaret took a tentative step forward. “Thank you,” she said, her
expression serious. “For saving my life.”
    He couldn’t help smiling. “You are most
welcome.” Thomas turned back to stare out across the water. “You’d
never know by looking that last night the sea was a foaming
tempest.”
    “No you wouldn’t. What do you plan to do with
me?” Margaret saw no reason to prolong finding out.
    “Do?” Thomas shrugged. He really hadn’t given
it any thought, though he knew he should. But this place was so
haunted by memories.
    “I know what I did was wrong, and am willing
to suffer the consequences.” Perhaps once he’d satisfied his
vengeance on her, Grace could talk to him about the orphanage.
Margaret should probably have had the Negress do it in the first
place. Grace certainly would have come up with a better plan than
kidnapping.
    Thomas glanced