"The song is lovely, and your poem is beautiful Captain." She sat passively, fingering her pearls, knowing all too well that he had written it as an apology. Perhaps it was a way to explain just what he felt, even if he was unwilling to make that connection with her, one that she now knew was possible. Wondering why she was not willing to look up at him, he bluffed, that the poem was "Just a piece of doggerel I wrote a long time ago, a very long time ago."
The Captain stood quietly, watching the family congratulate Tim on his new song, and a disappointed Claymore prepare to go. "Mr. Gregg," Tim called out, "It looks dry enough. Could you drop me close to my van?" "Well, I guess, but I'm not going to help you get that van off the beach!"
"Come along you lot," Martha called to the children. As the guests headed out the front door. "Time to get lunch on the table too." With a slight grumble, the kids followed her into the kitchen, leaving the Captain and Mrs. Muir alone in the parlor. She sat looking silently and thoughtfully at him, as if trying to find the courage, the words to say what she wanted to say. The Captain, stood wondering, worrying about what she was going to express, when with a sigh, she stood, smiled and left without a word.
"That's not the reaction I had hoped for," he mused to himself, "Yet, what else could I expect, truly?"
They passed each other throughout the day, politely, graciously, yet with out a word between them. He finally took to observing her invisibly, as the constant silence and intent looks were at last beginning to wear upon his peace of mind. 'Heavens, I merely hoped to show, to express my feelings, I cannot imagine what possesses her,' he thought as he watched her tuck the children in, and head back down stairs.
Stopping by Martha's door, she poked her head into the room, "I know it's been a long day Martha, but I'm going out for a breath of air. Just wanted you to know, in case the kids need anything." "Isn't that how all this started?" Martha called after her. "And how it's going to end, if I have anything to say about it," Carolyn muttered as she continued down the hallway.
He appeared beside her, as she knew he would. She turned to face the ocean, both hands leaning upon the railing. "So Captain, ready to deliver another weather report?" she asked, continuing to look out toward the sea. "Actually Madam, I had wanted, had hoped. . ." He was stopped, in fact stunned, as she spun around, threw her hands around his neck and placed a long, passionate kiss on his lips. She smiled as she felt his arms tighten around her, and draw her closer, as one kiss blurred into another. "So Daniel Gregg, didn't you tell me this could never happen" she whispered, snuggled again his chest. "Then you should have been less obvious, once I saw you were able to take Claymore's hand, no matter your fears of catastrophic events, I knew things would have to change between us." His eyes grew wide, as he smiled down in surprise, "And that's what has been on your mind all day?" he asked, reaching up and stroking her hair slowly, "I thought I had distressed you in some way." "That you did my Captain, I thought I'd go out of my mind waiting for you to say something, do something. I admit some things may have been better in the slower, Victorian era, but today as a woman of the 20th century, I had waited quite long enough and I wasn't prepared to wait any longer."
As he drew her close, she paused putting a finger on his oh so tangible lips, "about that poem being from 'long ago', do you want to correct anything now?" "Of course not," he said giving the finger a gentle kiss, "after this night, it is truly ancient history – don't you agree?" "I do," she whispered "now about the present?" "You are a brazen woman, Carolyn Muir, and while this moment is quite perfect. . ." I'd have said wonderful actually," she smiled resting her head on his shoulder. Kissing her head, he sighed, "Wonderful it is. But there are consequences you know. It's unavoidable." "So be it Captain," she smiled, "I'm ready."