In The Arms Of My Pirate

Epilogue

April 2, 1815
England

Salty ocean spray dusted Charles' face as he stood at the small ship's railing, gazing out into the misty night.

They traveled on a small fishing vessel that stank of sweaty men and old fish entrails, but Charles didn't mind. He'd rather stay trapped in the rank hold below than face what was coming.

A small hand slipped into his.

He knew without looking that it was Octavia. The feel of her hand in his was as familiar as the sway of the sea beneath him. Her scent lulled him to sleep each night, a comforting reminder that the horror of the past two years was gone.

"Don't be frightened, my love," she whispered.

"What if they don't remember me?" He asked, voice breaking.

He was no longer the kind and gentle boy who brushed their hair and made them dolls from corn husks.

He had plundered countless ships, drank enough rum to fill a barge, and... and he had killed.

"Fidelia sent the love of her life halfway around the earth to find you," Octavia said with a gentle laugh. "They never forgot you. Not even for a moment. You've always been with them."

She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as the boat docked in the small fishing village in the south of England.

"I'm not who they remember," he said, shaking his head. Trembling, he took a step back. "I-I shouldn't be here."

"You are everything and more," Octavia said, turning to take his face in her hands. "You must learn to forgive yourself, Charles."

The boat rocked gently as the gang plank was lowered.

Octavia took his hand and led him down the ramp.

As his feet touched English soil for the first time in twelve years, Charles felt a strange desperation well up inside his chest.

He had to find them. He had to try.

He let go of her hand and turned, looking through the silvery mist that shrouded the small fishing village.

It was ghostly silent.

His heart thundered in his chest. Was this a trick?

A cloaked figure materialized in the fog across from him, dark skirts rustling in the breeze.

Another small figure joined the first.

"Charles?" A frightened voice asked. "Is that really you?"

Tears sprang to his eyes and he stumbled forward.

Two sets of arms embraced him, holding him up as his knees buckled in disbelief.

"Fidelia," he whispered, clutching his sister tightly to his chest, her coppery curls tickling his chin.

He turned and pressed a kiss to the blond head of the smaller figure. "Lottie."

Through his tears, he repeated their names twice more, struggling to breathe as unseen bands on iron seemed to break loose from around his heart.

"Where have you been?" Fidelia cried, pulling back enough to hit his chest. "Do you know how many nights I've lost sleep worrying about you, wondering if you were alive or dead?"

"You missed my wedding, you big brute," Lottie laughed.

"Wedding?" Charles gasped, grinning so hard his face hurt. "You have no room to be upset; you missed my wedding, too!"

Fidelia and Lottie pulled back and gawked up at him in shock.

He turned and held out his hand to his beautiful companion.

"Fidelia and Lottie, I believe you already know my angel wife, Octavia."

Delighted cries filled the night as they embraced again. The women giggled as Octavia explained how she and Charles had wed the same night they finally escaped Captain Hillington and the gallows.

"I have a surprise as well," Fidelia beamed and looked over her shoulder.

The mist cleared even more to reveal a stately carriage.

William stepped out, two small, squirming lumps balanced in his arms.

Charles's breath caught in his throat as he gazed into the midst beautiful pairs of blue and brown eyes he had ever seen.

"Are these...?" He whispered reverently, reaching toward the child with curly brown locks.

The twin children couldn't have been more than nine or ten months old, already holding themselves up and munching happily in their own tiny fists.

"My children," Fidelia beamed up at him. "These are my children, Charles."

Charles couldn't contain his laughter as William gave him the red-headed boy, who immediately giggled and tugged on Charles' hair.

"Come," Lottie said, pulling them toward the carriage. "We have much to catch up on.
"
With his nephew in one arm, and Octavia tucked beneath the other, Charles knew in that, at last, the war within his heart was over.

He could forgive himself.

He could learn to be that gentle, living man again.

Heaven truly existed for a pirate such as him.

***
Thank you so much for coming in this journey with me! Reading your comments and seeing your reactions to the story is truly what inspired me to keep writing every week.

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And in case you're like me and hate to see a story end, fear not! I will begin releasing book 4 in the series next week!

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