Hawkins Lane, Bristol, 30th of October, 1711
Caroline might have accepted Edward's proposal, but some part of him still couldn’t accept it. He found himself travelling into town the next day, his journey taking him to Hawkins Lane. All he knew was that Matthew Hague planned to pay her a visit in the morning, and as he sidled up the highway and passed the row of houses among which was hers, he wondered if Hague was in there already, perhaps making his proposal.
One thing Edward knew of Caroline: she was a brave woman, perhaps the bravest he’d ever known. Even so, she was passing up the opportunity to live the rest of her days in pampered luxury; and, worse, she was going to scandalize her mother and father. Edward knew only too well the pressures of trying to please a parent, how tempting it was to go down that route. An unfulfilled soul, or a soul troubled with guilt - which was the hardest cross to bear?
With Edward standing before her - and she loved him, he was sure of that - perhaps the decision was easier to make. But what about at night, when misgivings made their rounds and doubt came visiting? Perhaps she might simply have changed her mind overnight and she was, at this very moment in time, blushing in her acceptance of Matthew Hague’s proposal and mentally writing a letter to Edward.
If that happened, well, there was always Dylan Wallace, he supposed.
But then from the corner of his eye he saw the front door open and Wilson appear, quickly followed by the draughtsman and behind them Matthew Hague, who offered his arm for Caroline, Rose taking up the rear as they began their perambulations.
Staying some distance behind, Edward followed, all the way to the harbour, puzzling over his intentions. Not the harbour, surely? The dirty, smelly, crowded harbour, with its stench of manure and burning pitch and just-caught fish and men who had returned from months away at sea without so much as a bath during that time.
They were making their way towards what looked like a schooner moored at the dock, around which were gathered some men. It was difficult to tell, though, because hanging from the back of the ship was some kind of canvas obscuring the name of the vessel. However, as the group drew closer to it Edward thought he knew what it was. He thought he knew Hague's plan.
Sure enough, they stopped before it and still out of sight Edward watched as Caroline’s eyes flicked nervously from Matthew Hague to the schooner, guessing that she too had worked out the purpose of their visit.
Next thing he knew, Hague was down on one knee, and the staff of the schooner, Wilson and the draughtsman, were all standing with their hands behind their backs ready for the round of applause when Matthew Hague popped his question: “My darling, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
Caroline swallowed and stammered, “Matthew, must we do this here?”
He shot her a patronizing look, then, with an expansive gesture of his hand, ordered the canvas come off the rear of the schooner. There etched in a gold leaf was the vessel’s name: CAROLINE.
“What better place, my dear?”
If it hadn’t been for the situation Edward might even have slightly enjoyed the sight of Caroline at a loss. Usually she was nothing if not sure of herself. The doubt and near panic he saw in her eyes, he suspected, was as new to her as it was to Edward.
“Matthew, I must say, you’re embarrassing me.”
“My dear, dear Caroline, my precious flower...” He gave a small gesture to his draughtsman, who immediately began rooting around for his quill in order to record his master’s poetic words.
“But how else would I have unveiled my marital gift to you? Now, I must press you for an answer. Please, with all these people watching...”
Yes, Edward realized as he looked around, the entire harbour seemed to have halted, everybody hanging on Caroline’s next words, which were...
“No, Matthew.”
Hague stood up so sharply that his draughtsman was forced to scurry backwards and almost lost his footing. Hague’s face darkened, and his lips pursed as he fought to retain composure and forced a smile.
“One of your little jokes, perhaps?”
“I fear not, Matthew, I am betrothed to another.”
Hague drew himself up to his full height as though to intimidate Caroline. Standing back in the crowd, Edward felt his blood rising and began to make his way forward.
“To another,” he croaked. “Just who is this other man?”
“Me, sir,” Edward announced, having reached the front of the crowd and presented himself to Hague.
He looked at Edward with narrowed eyes. “You," he spat.
From behind him Wilson was already moving forward, and in his eyes Edward could see his fury that Edward’d failed to heed his warning. And how that became his failure.
With an outstretched arm Hague stopped him. “No, Wilson,” he said, adding pointedly, “not here. Not now. I’m sure my lady may want to reconsider.”
A ripple of surprise and not a little humour had travelled through the crowd and it rose again as Caroline said, “No, Matthew, Edward and I are to be married.”
He rounded on her. “Does your father know about this?”
“Not yet,” she said, then added, “I’ve a feeling he soon will, though.”
For a moment Hague simply stood and trembled with rage, and for the first, but as it would turn out not the last time, Edward actually felt sympathy for him. In the next instant he was barking at bystanders to get back to their work, then shouting at the schooner crew to replace the canvas, then calling to Wilson and his draughtsman to leave the harbour, turning his back pointedly on Caroline and offering Edward a look of hate as he exited. At his rear was Wilson and their eyes locked. Slowly, he drew a finger across his throat.
Edward shouldn’t have done it, really: Wilson was not a man to provoke. But he couldn’t help himself and returned Wilson's death threat with a cheeky wink.
That was how Bristol came to know that Edward Kenway, a sheep-farmer worth a mere seventy-five pounds a year, was to marry Caroline Scott.
[[ taken and lightly edited from the ACIV novelization. we're rolling now! ]]