'Do you recognize anything?' she asked softly.
He nodded slowly. 'Some. The shoreline looks a bit changed.'
'More than a few storms have roared through here in the past three centuries,' she explained.
'There are more houses in some places and less in others, but they have changed also.' He cocked his head toward the bridge that spanned the creek ahead of them. 'And that wasn't there.'
'None of the structures from your time have survived. But there are some clues that have been found.' She pointed off to the starboard. 'Blackbeard had a home over there, on Plum Point, isn't that right?'
He nodded again, silently studying the wooded area. 'He has built himself a fine home, for a pirate,' Griffin murmured, as if he could see the house in his mind's eye. 'Teach fancies himself quite a gentlemen. He hosts lavish entertainments at his home. And he boasts that there is not a home in the colony to which he wouldn't be welcome for dinner.' The last was said with more than a trace of bitterness.
She found it so strange to hear him speak of Blackbeard as if the man were still alive. He didn't say much, but Meredith could see his anger toward the pirate simmering near the surface. Still, she felt a familiar sense of satisfaction in his simple explanation, the same feeling she had when she found an original source to confirm one of her historical suppositions. Everything he'd told her so far had slipped into the annals of history without much dispute.
Suddenly, she wanted to know everything she could about Blackbeard. If speaking of the pirate might keep Griffin here longer, then so be it. She would ask all the questions she wanted, without guilt or remorse. And her book would be better for Griffin's time here.
She would write down everything she told him and they would talk for hours about his experience. And then, when all the questions had been asked, she would know that he had been brought forward to help with her work and not to encourage her fantasy. But would he then disappear from her life? Or had Griffin Rourke been brought here to stay?
'There is a depression in the ground, right over there,' she said. 'And ruins from a foundation. And in a shallow field between the point and Bath, there was a round brick oven which we think was used by Blackbeard to boil tar for caulking his ships.'
'I know the oven you speak of,' he said distractedly. 'I have seen it many times. When the tar boils, it can be smelled for miles.'
'It's not there anymore. So many tourists came to visit it, they trampled the farmer's field, so he covered the oven with dirt and plowed it over. You can also see the ruins of the foundation of Governor Eden's house over there.' She pointed across the port side.
'This seems familiar, the land and the water, yet it is not.'
'Do you think you can find the place where you fell in?'
'It is here,' he said.
'Here?' Meredith asked.
Griffin moved to drop the sails. She scrambled to the bow and grabbed hold of the anchor and heaved it in, playing out the line until she felt the anchor hit bottom. The boat drifted and then slowly stopped as the anchor held. As she crawled back to the cockpit, she saw Griffin smiling at her.
'Why didn't you say something? I didn't realize this was the place that…' A rush of warmth flooded her body and for a brief instant, she lost herself in his pale blue eyes. 'What?' she asked.
'What?'
'You're laughing at me,' she said, the warmth now flushing her face.
'You are a fine sailor, Merrie.'
'You find that odd?'
'For a woman. I find your sailing talents quite…useful, practical.'
She glanced up at him. 'Thank you for the roundabout compliment, Captain Rourke. And that has been my life's goal, to prove myself useful to a man.'
He groaned and shook his head. 'You have misunderstood me again. I also find it admirable. You are a woman of many talents, Merrie.'
She jumped to her feet and dropped a mocking curtsy, then sat down again. 'Aye, Captain, that I am.'
Griffin secured the tiller then took a seat across from her. His gaze drifted past her, over the water to the town. 'I know Bath Town as a much rougher place,' he said. 'It looks almost deserted now.'
'The big ships don't come in here anymore, so there isn't much commerce-just a fine collection of historic houses, a lovely old church and about two hundred people. But I think it's one of the most beautiful and serene places in North Carolina. I've come here many times while researching my-' She stopped herself, realizing she'd nearly mentioned her book on Blackbeard. 'Researching,' she repeating.
'Well, we might as well be about our business now before the sun goes down.' Griffin reached down and tugged off his deck shoes. Then he stood up and stripped off his shirt.
His chest gleamed under the late afternoon light, rippled muscle and hard flesh. Her fingers clenched spasmodically as she remembered her exploration of his body the last time he'd come to her bed. How she had wanted to touch him, to prove to herself that he was a flesh-and-blood man, a man who would respond to her touch, and not just the fantasy hero of her dreams.
He reached for the waistband of his trousers. She gulped hard. 'Wha-what are you doing?'
'I'm going to get wet, Merrie-girl, the same way I did that night. Turn your head. I would not want to offend your tender sensibilities.'
He tugged the trousers down along his narrow hips and she quickly closed her eyes.
'You can't just take off all your clothes and jump in!' she cried.
'And why not? If I can wear a dress on the main street of Ocracoke Village, certainly my nakedness in the middle of Old Town Creek would not cause eyebrows to rise.'
She felt the boat rock slightly and then heard a splash. Slowly, she opened her eyes and peered overboard. He broke the surface right tinder her nose, water sluicing over his shoulders. Tiny droplets clung to his dark lashes, like diamond chips, and she found herself suddenly unable to catch her breath.
'Brrr, it's cold,' he growled, shaking his head and scattering the diamonds across the blue water.
Lord, he was glorious, and even more so without clothes. She cursed her cowardice. She should have looked when she'd had the chance. After all, just when
She tried to make out the details of his body through the wavering water, but then he kicked away and swam out from the boat with strong, sure strokes, his shoulder and feet breaking the surface. For a moment, she glimpsed his bare backside and the line at his waist that marked his deeply tanned back.
He stopped swimming about twenty yards from the boat, then turned back to look at her, lazily treading water as if he hadn't exerted himself in the least. 'Well?' he called.
'Well what?' she replied. Did he want her to comment on his swimming skills or was he waiting for her to swoon at the sight of his naked body?
'This is the place and the time is about right,' he said. 'Do you see anything?'
'Not as much as I'd like to see,' she muttered softly.
'What?' he called, frowning at her.
'What am I supposed to see?' she called. 'What did you see that night?'
'I don't know. I was standing at the rail of the
'Well, maybe you should just swim around for a while,' Meredith suggested. 'Slowly,' she added.
He did as he was told, circling the boat in a lazy crawl, his rippled back glinting wet in the diminishing light. She watched him for a long time, soaking up the sight of his nude body as it slipped through the water. The sun dipped lower on the horizon and then, in a red blaze, set behind the remains of Thistleworth Plantation, the home of the duplicitous Eden, friend to Blackbeard.
He stopped swimming a few yards from the boat, then brushed his wet hair back from his face. 'Nothing is happening,' he said.
'How do you feel?' Meredith asked.
She thought she heard him curse. He looked up at her. 'Cold, wet, and nothing more.'
