“Where was shegoing?”
“Back toEngland,” he replied, a strange sadness in his tone, “to find andkill her mother, a woman who Maria claimed never truly loved her.I’d heard rumors over the years that Maria’s mother was a coldwoman, was partly to blame for the path of darkness Maria had beenpushed down.” He paused and pattedthe blanket next to him. “Dianna, come and sit, please.”
“Who’s hermother? What does that have to do with me and mymother?”
“Dianna–”
“Henry!” Ishrieked, hot tears of desperation pouring down my face. I was sureI already knew the answer, but I needed him to say it. I needed tohear it for the words to ring true.
“Maria’smother’s name was… is Constance Cobham.”
I began toback away, mouth gaping as a silent cry choked from my body.
“Maria Cobhamisn’t your ancestor,” Henry continued. His words like nails in my coffin. “She’s yoursister.”
ChapterFourteen
A while later, we sat on the cold floor of myquarters, Henry’s long arms wrapped around me consolingly. I’dthrown a world class fit upon learning the news of mine and Maria’strue connection. The reason why we looked so similar. The sense ofrecognition I felt in her presence.
She was mysister.
But I’dprocessed that information much faster than the second realizationHenry bestowed upon me. My momwasn’t dead. All this time, she hadn’t drowned in the sea by ourhome in Rocky Harbour. No, she’d used the lore of magic to call thesiren and go back to where she came from. She willingly left me.But even that wasn’t the part I struggled so hard with.
My sweet,caring, loving mother raised Maria, the scourge of the earth. Shecould very well have been the reason Maria Cobham became what sheis and a part of me simply couldn’t believe it. There had to bemore to the story. I had to get to the bottom of it.
“I’m sorry,” Imuttered and wiped the snotty tears from my face as I pried mycheek off Henry’s bare chest.
“You havenothing to be sorry for, Dianna,” he assured me. “And, honestly,I’m not sure how I didn’t piece it together myself. I knew Maria’smother’s name this whole time, but my mind never connected thedots.”
I wrapped thewool blanket around my shoulders as I stood and then helped Henryto his feet, noting that he was still stark naked. “Don’t youdare.”
“What?”
“Try to makethis your fault,” I told him. “It’s not.”
“Alright,” theman accepted, “so what do you propose we do now?”
“Well,” Ireplied and smirked, licking my tear stained lips, taking in theglorious figure before me, “we should probably start with gettingyou some clothes.” I opened the wardrobe I’d filled with clothingfor both of us and pulled out a few garments. “Then, is it…”
Henry waitedfor me to finish and when I didn’t, he spoke, “What? Tell me whatyou want to do, Dianna. I’ll see that it happens.”
“Is itpossible for us to go to England?”
I slipped thewhite blouse over his head and helped feed his arms through thesleeves.
“It is, yes.”Next, his trousers. “Are you suggesting what I think you’resuggesting?”
I thought fora moment, assessing the idea.
“Yes,” Ifinally spoke. “I want to sail to England after Maria and save mymother. If she hasn’t left yet, she’s sure to leave soon, right?” Iinhaled deeply. “Is it a crazy idea?”
Henry took mein his arms, the swelling of his face gone down enough for me tosee the expression of sheer admiration. “All the best onesare.”
I laughed andbrought my lips to his, standing on my toes to do so. I felt as ifthere were nothing I couldn’t do with Henry by my side. “I love youso much.”
“And I you,Time Traveller.” His hands raked through my hair as his bodypressed against me, wanting. “My Pirate Queen.”
“Mmm, I likethe sound of that.” I kissed him again and then touched the puffyskin around his eyes. “The swelling is going down fast, you shouldbe able to see again any day now. Just keep putting the cold wateron it.”
He feigned afrown. “The salt water burns.”
“Don’t be ababy,” I told him jokingly.
Henry thendropped to one knee and placed a kiss on my stomach. “Yes, a baby, indeed.” He hugged me tightto his face. “My everything right here in my hands.” We remainedthere, him nuzzling my belly, me curling my fingers in his hairuntil he spoke again. “There’s one problem with your idea,Dianna.”
“What’s that?”I asked as he brought himself to his feet.
“That’s a Hellof a journey. We’d need supplies, and money to get them.”
I chewedon my bottom lip. “I’ve spent justabout all I have, aside from a few schillings. How much are we talking about here?”
“Well, we’dhave to verify with Finnigan, but it would surely be a three-month trip, especially this time ofyear. Food and supplies for all eight of us, as well as thelivestock…” he paused, contemplating, “Well, let’s just say I wishI had that treasure chest we found together.”
I slumped downin my red velvet chair and rocked back and forth, lost in thought.It was a crazy idea. A three-month journey across the Atlantic withjust eight people and a pregnant captain. It was a recipe fordisaster, even if we could afford it. My eyes scanned the room andlanded on the long bookshelf near the old sofa. Suddenly, an ideadawned on me and I dove for the books.
“What is it,what are you doing?” Henry asked me.
I beganpulling the leather-bound wonders from the shelf, searching for thecaptain’s logs. “If Lottie’s father and grandfather were connectedto Peter Easton, then surely there would be evidence of where hehid his treasures.”
“Treasures?”
“Yes, in mytime, there are so many stories ofEaston’s escapades. He raided the Atlantic for years and isbelieved to be one of the wealthiest pirates that ever lived.” Iflipped feverishly through pages. “But one story sticks out in mymind more than others. Near the end of his reign, the Spanish senta fleet to come to Newfoundland and arrest him. But Easton fledwith three chests of treasure. He entrusted two men from his crewto hide it over near Corner Brook,” I strained to remember theexact place, “um, Shell Bird Island, I think?”
Henry
