Maggie pushed her windblown hair from her eyes and gazed out across the glistening ocean. She could hardly believe she was on a ship bound for America. Reaching out, she gripped Michael’s warm, strong hand and smiled up at James, peacefully asleep on his shoulder.
“Is this really happening?” Maggie asked him.
“It’s happening,” Michael confirmed with a warm smile. “And it’s exactly what should be happening. Nothing has ever felt as right to me in my entire life.”
Maggie squeezed his hand lovingly, knowing that it was true and deriving strength from his confidence. Maybe some might consider what she was doing wrong. But nothing had felt so right in ages.
In America, no one would care if she was a Darlington. It would be neither an honor nor a disgrace. She would simply be Maggie, her own self.
Michael drew her close to him and wrapped her in his free arm. Maggie rested her head on his chest, letting the drumming of his heartbeat merge with the crash of the waves. “I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too. And I love the baby. We’re going to be happy, Maggie.”