The Pirate

by Kate Hoffmann

  "You mean like fight a duel?"

  Griffin nodded.

  Merrie pushed to her feet and walked to the water, letting the gentle waves lap at her bare feet. She turned to look at him, her smile quirking as if she was about to burst into fits of laughter. "Thank you for the offer, and I'll keep it in mind, but right now I can't think of a soul I'd want you to kill for me."

  He joined her at the water's edge and grabbed her hand. "So what are we to do next, if you have no one I might shoot?"

  "As soon as the phone is working again, I thought I would call a friend of mine. Kelsey is a physics professor at William and Mary."

  "She is a physician?"

  "No. She's a physicist. She studies electrons and gravity and about a million other things I really don't understand. If she doesn't know about time-travel theory, she will know where to send us."

  "Then we must leave today," Griffin said, trying to control his excitement. "Will we travel by water or by land? Is the college still in the same place as it was in my time? If it is, I vow it would be faster to travel by water. If the wind is with us, it will take us less than a week's time."

  "The college is still in Williamsburg. But we don't have to go there. We can just call her…on the telephone." Merrie sighed. "Why don't we have lunch and I'll explain the telephone over toasted cheese sandwiches. After that, I want to go downtown and pick up some clothes for you. If you expect to walk around the island during the day, it would be best if you fit in."

  "So there is something wrong with my clothes?" he asked. "They are serviceable garments."

  "They're just not quite the rage in this day and age," she said.

  "I will not wear a dress," Griffin countered. "I am not that… loose."

  Merrie giggled, a warm, musical sound that filled his senses. "Relax. Men in the twentieth century aren't expected to wear ladies' dresses. They just can if they want to."

  "Well, I do not want to," Griffin said firmly.

  She grinned, her smile teasing and sweet. "I never had any doubt about that, Griffin Rourke."

  3

  "I cannot wear these garments! I will look the fool!"

  Meredith stood outside the bathroom door, her shoulder braced on the wall. "The clothes are fine, Griffin. You can't walk around in that pirate outfit. People will stare. Now get dressed, we're in a hurry."

  The door flew open and Griffin stood in front of her, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts. "They will stare if I wear this. I would not show my knees in public!"

  A laugh escaped Meredith's throat. She pressed her fingers to her lips. Finding underwear for Griffin had been the most difficult of her shopping tasks on the island. Most people shopped on the mainland or at the mall in Nags Head for their essentials. But barring a long shopping trip, she'd been forced to settle for the silk boxers she'd found at a local souvenir shop. The fabric was decorated with little buccaneer's heads, each one complete with eye patch, tricorn and dagger clenched between teeth.

  Her gaze wandered the length of his body and she felt a delicious shiver skitter up her spine. Griffin had an incredible physique, a body any woman would find attractive. His legs were long and muscular, and the boxer shorts only seemed to enhance his flat belly and narrow waist. His broad chest was tanned golden brown, and for an instant she could imagine him on the deck of a ship, the sun beating down on his skin, the salt breeze whipping his dark hair around his face.

  For a moment, she was tempted to tell him that if he expected to live in the twentieth century, he would have to wear boxer shorts twenty-four hours a day. But he seemed so upset by the prospect that she reluctantly decided to tell him the truth.

  "You're wearing underwear," Meredith explained. "I bought you several pairs of pants. You put those on overthe underwear."

  Frowning, Griffin stepped back into the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later with a pair of khaki cotton pants he'd pulled from a bag. He held them up against his waist and examined them, then tugged them on in front of her as if dressing in front of a female caused him no embarrassment at all.

  "Feel better?" she asked.

  "I feel warmer, at least," he said. "What is this?" He stared down at the zipper in confusion. "There are no buttons here."

  "That's a zipper," Meredith said. "Just tug up on that little tab."

  He fumbled with the zipper. "I cannot. You do this for me." He braced his hands on his hips and waited.

  Meredith's eyes widened. "You can do it," she urged, twisting her fingers in front of her and giving him an encouraging smile.

  "I cannot," he repeated in frustration. "Show me."

  With shaking hands, Meredith hesitantly reached out and plucked at the tab of the zipper. If she knew how to swoon, she would have done it then and there. But she'd never fainted in her life. Biting at her bottom lip, she slowly closed the zipper, trying not to think about what was on the other side.

  He watched her in amazement. "How does this work?"

  She snatched her hands away. "Little teeth," she muttered. "Now put your shirt on so we can go. I've got the computer reserved at the library. I want to hop on the Net and see what I can find out about time travel."

  He stared at her for a long moment, then shrugged and returned to the bathroom.

  Ten minutes later, she and Griffin were headed down Lighthouse Road to the tiny island library behind the fire hall. Though his presence at her side caused a few curious stares from the locals, no one was nosy enough to ask what their relationship was. And she didn't volunteer any information, except that he was a friend who had come for a short visit. Tourists were not uncommon on Ocracoke, even in the fall, and most of the townsfolk appeared to accept him with little notice.

  As they walked, he asked questions about everything and anything-about the quaint lighthouse that stood sentinel over the Sound and the picturesque cottages and shops that dotted the narrow streets. They took the long loop to the library, along the waterfront and then down the narrow street that led to the tiny cemetery that held the bodies of four British sailors. The sailors' ship had been torpedoed offshore by a German U-boat during the Second World War. Griffin wasn't satisfied until she recited everything she knew about the country's involvement in the war and the current state of the U.S. Navy.

  "Why are we going to the library?" he asked.

  "I told you. I want to get on the Net and see what I can learn about time travel. My laptop doesn't have a modem so we have to use the computer at the library."

  "The Net," he repeated.

  "Internet," she explained. "It's a computer network."

  "Computer," he repeated.

  "You'll see," she said, patting him on the shoulder. Meredith stepped to the edge of the road, ready to cross, when Griffin grabbed her arm.

  "Have a care," he warned, staring at a car nearly a block away. She had noticed that he'd become watchful, wary, as if he wasn't quite sure about the intentions of the automobiles or their drivers. He slipped his arm protectively around her waist and a flood of warmth rushed through her at his touch.

  She knew she was growing fond of him. He was a strong and vital man with a powerful sensual appeal. She had to keep from watching him, admiring the way he moved, the way his skin gleamed in the sun, the way he stared out at the water with pale hooded eyes. And every time he touched her, her heart quickened and her breathing stopped.

  She'd never felt so comfortable around a man as she felt with Griffin. He seemed to accept her for exactly who she was. All her insecurities and inexperience with men didn't seem to matter. In fact, he considered her a fallen woman simply for allowing him to stay in her house.

  But then, maybe she was a fallen woman, at least by his standards. She had gone to bed with five different men in her life, fully intending to lose her virginity, right up until the very moment of truth. But then, the whole thing had seemed wrong and she had put an end to it, leaving her partners confused and sometimes even angry.

  When it came right down to it, only one thing kep
t her from ridding herself of her virtue. She wasn't in love. And something deep inside her soul told her to wait-for a man to whom she might give her heart as well as her body. So she'd waited. And she was still waiting…

  Meredith stepped inside the library with Griffin at her heels. She smiled at the volunteer librarian, Tank Muldoon's sister, Trina, then headed for the computer in the corner. Griffin lingered for a long moment as he passed the shelves of books.

  "Whose books are these?" he asked.

  "They belong to the community," Meredith answered distractedly as she signed on to the computer. "They're for everyone. This is a public library."

  "And we will find our answers in these books?" he said.

  "No," Meredith said. "I doubt that there are any books here that will help us."

  He sat down beside her and peered at the computer screen. "I thought you said we were seeking information about sending me back. Why are you looking into this box?" he demanded. "There are many books here which would help us. We must look at them."

  Meredith sighed. "This box is a computer, Griffin, and there's more information in here than in a thousand libraries this size."

  Griffin scoffed in disbelief, then slouched down in his chair like a petulant child. "This I don't believe. You are wasting time."

  She could already hear the impatience growing in his voice and she knew he was about to fall into one of his dark moods. He'd been with her just a day and a half and already she could read him as if she'd known him for years.

  Last night, he had paced the night away, impatiently covering every inch of the floor like a caged tiger. From her bed, she had heard him prowling around the cottage, muttering to himself and sometimes to Ben Gunn, keeping the leather purse always close at hand, as if he was worried he might be swept away at any moment.

  This morning, he had been preoccupied, his mind firmly focused in the past, on Edward Teach-which was exactly where her mind should have been focused, too. She wanted to talk to him of his life, to learn everything he knew about Blackbeard. Though she wouldn't be able to use most of it in her book without an original source to back up what he told her, it would give her work new insight into the famous pirate. Still, something held her back from telling him about her work.

  What was it? Was she afraid he might suspect what she suspected-that she was somehow responsible for bringing him here? Every time she looked at him, she felt the same nagging sense of guilt. And every impulse she had to broach the subject of the pirate was buried beneath that guilt.

  "When is this friend of yours going to call?"

  Meredith glanced over at him and forced a smile, hoping to defuse his mood. "I told you, Kelsey is attending a symposium at Wake Forest," she explained. "She'll call as soon as she returns. Maybe tomorrow or the next day."

  "And you are certain this Kelsey will be able to find a way for me to go back?"

  "I don't know," Meredith replied. "Griffin, I won't get anything done if you keep talking to me. This takes concentration. It's like navigating a boat."

  He stood up and began to pace the floor behind her. "I feel so damn useless here," he muttered. "I am not accustomed to idleness. I need to do something."

  "In this century, we place great value on our leisure time," Meredith commented lightly. "That's why people visit this island, for the laid-back life-style."

  He stopped suddenly and stared down at her. "Well, I am not from this century, am I?" he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. With that, he turned and stalked toward the door, yanking it open before he stepped outside.

  With a soft curse, Meredith pushed herself back from the computer and stood, shooting an apologetic smile to a wide-eyed Trina. She found Griffin outside where he'd taken up pacing the sidewalk. She grabbed his elbow and drew him to a stop. "Griffin, I'm doing everything I can to help you. But you have to be patient. This is very complicated."

  He stared at her for a moment, anger blazing in his gaze. Then, with a resigned sigh, he closed his eyes and raked his fingers through his hair, schooling his temper. "Forgive me. I did not mean to speak so harshly."

  "I understand," Meredith said. She paused, then looked up at him hopefully. "I was thinking that maybe you'd enjoy a trip to Bath, or Bath Town, as you call it. I can borrow a car and we can take the ferry across to Swan Quarter early tomorrow morning. You can tell me all about how the town used to be. You can show me where Blackbeard had his house."

  "To what end?" he muttered.

  "I-I just thought it might-"

  "Occupy my mind?" he completed. "I don't need my mind filled with trivial matters. I have plenty to do. I was to deliver the purse to Spotswood's man before I returned to sail with the Adventure. But while I am here, the work goes on without me. How am I to know whether they are proceeding?"

  She slipped her arm through his and paced alongside him. "Well, there is a theory that would have us believe that if history is altered, the books written about the event will also change. So, I suppose we could just look at the books that have been written about Blackbeard and see if they've changed."

  "Whose theory is this?"

  "I'm not sure. I saw it in a movie called Back to the Future," she said.

  "A movie?"

  "A video," Meredith said. "It's like a play you watch on… well, just think of it as a play."

  "Ah," he said, nodding. "And this video was written by a respected scholar, an expert in this science… this physics, like your colleague, Kelsey?"

  "No, not exactly. Movies and videos are entertainment. They're fuel for the imagination. Even though there are plenty of books and movies about the subject, no one has ever really traveled in time."

  He stopped short and spun her around to face him. "No one?"

  A tremor raced through her at the look in his eyes and she bit her bottom lip. "I-I thought you understood that. As far as I know, no one has ever traveled in time."

  A myriad of emotions crossed his face before he spoke again. "Then I am the first," he stated softly. "And I must be the first to return, as well."

  Meredith drew a deep breath and screwed up her courage to say the words she'd wanted to say since he'd come to her. Words she knew would anger him. "What if you can't get back?" she asked.

  "I will not consider that possibility," he said. "I must return."

  She swallowed hard. "Is-is there someone waiting for you?" She felt her cheeks flame. "I mean, do you have a girlfriend… or maybe a fiancée… or a wife?"

  Meredith risked a glance up. He was staring up at the sky, his gaze fixed on some invisible star. His eyes were frosted with pain and his thoughts had drifted to a different time. She'd never seen such a look on a person's face, such intense anguish, so tightly controlled yet so visible.

  She wanted to reach out and pull him into her arms to comfort him. But she couldn't. There was a woman in his life, a woman he missed very much.

  Her heart sank. What did she expect? She was twenty-eight, yet no one questioned her single status. He was only a few years older, yet the times he had lived in dictated early marriage. "Do you?" she asked gently. "Do you have a wife waiting for you?"

  His jaw tightened and she saw a nerve twitch in his cheek. "No," he replied, his voice ragged. "I have no wife, no…family."

  Meredith breathed a silent sigh of relief, but she quickly admonished herself. She would do well to remember that Griffin Rourke was not some fantasy pirate, but a flesh-and-blood man, a man with his own demons to plague his dreams. And he didn't belong here. If she continued to harbor these illusions about him, she'd only get hurt when he left.

  If he left. The prospect of Griffin remaining in her time hung over them like a storm cloud. Whether she was attracted to him or not, it was her responsibility to see that he got home. She couldn't help believing that she had somehow brought him here, that he'd been an unwilling participant in some great cosmic happening.

  "Why don't we go get some lunch," she suggested, hoping to shift the mood of their conversation. "I can wo
rk at the library later this afternoon."

  "I am not hungry," he murmured. "I would like to take a walk. Alone."

  Meredith nodded and pulled her hand from around his arm, knowing it would be best to leave him to his own thoughts. "I'll meet you back at the cottage then."

  He nodded curtly, and without looking at her, set off down the street.

  "Let him go," Meredith whispered to herself. "You'll have to let him go sooner or later, so do it now." As she watched him disappear around a bend in the road, she pressed her hand to her chest, wondering if her heart had heard the words she'd spoken.

  The next two days were passed in uneasy frustration, Griffin trying mightily to control his impatience and Meredith spending most of her time at the library, working at the computer. Griffin usually joined her, examining every scrap of information she uncovered, then demanding careful explanations.

  But this morning, he had been in a foul temper, ready to give up on searching the computer networks. They'd argued over breakfast and she'd left him at the cottage to brood while she paced the pathways of cyberspace.

  There was precious little to find that might help Griffin. What she did discover was purely theoretical, and often too difficult for her to understand. She was beginning to think that Griffin had been right, that this course of action would get them nowhere. She finally decided to head home and discuss her bleak findings with Griffin, to prepare him for the prospect that she might not be able to find him a way back.

  She was secretly happy that she hadn't found anything. She wanted Griffin with her a little longer. At first, she'd rationalized that it was merely to benefit her work, but then she had to face the fact that she wanted more.

  At night, she'd lie in bed and listen to him move about the cottage, hoping, praying, that he might come back to her bed as he had that first night. She would close her eyes and imagine his body next to hers, his breath soft on her neck, his lips nibbling a path-

  Meredith stopped beside the road and cursed herself soundly. This would not do, these unbidden fantasies about Griffin Rourke! For all she knew, he might disappear just as quickly as he'd appeared, in a flash of lighting or a clap of thunder. She quickly put him out of her mind, replacing him with a mental grocery list before she took off in the direction of the store.