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But the law was the law. Nemo had to wait one more year for her. That was how it must be, though in his heart he felt that he and Caroline had made vows and commitments to each other that outweighed any mere certificate. . . .

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Perhaps it was a consequence of having encountered danger so many times, having faced death at each other’s sides. Perhaps the exquisite agony of being so close for five long weeks had worked their secret emotions to a fever pitch. When he and Caroline boarded a northbound British naval ship at the mouth of the Congo and sailed for England, Nemo could pretend no longer.

Caroline’s eyes flashed at him like star sapphires, and she flushed when their glances met. He could read her thoughts and desires as if she’d written them down and handed him a secret note. The British sailors treated Dr. Fergusson as a hero, and the captain welcomed the explorer to his table, but Nemo and Caroline were often left to themselves.

On a still, moonless night filled with stars over a sea of glass, Nemo slipped into Caroline’s cabin. She welcomed him without words, only kisses . . . and did not ask him why he had waited so long.

They had a full month together as the ship cruised toward the English Channel along the African coast, past the Straits of Gibraltar and along the edge of Portugal. The two of them remained discreet, though they fooled neither the sailors, nor the captain, who viewed Caroline as precious cargo. Only Dr. Samuel Fergusson, who spent every waking moment editing and rewriting his journals for publication, was completely oblivious.

Nemo and Caroline cherished every moment.

But as they approached France again, they looked at each other with dread and indecision. While Nemo had nothing to lose -- no reputation, no standing in society -- Madame Caroline Hatteras owned a successful shipping company and was married to a man who had a proud and respected name.

“We will have to wait, Caroline,” Nemo said as they stood together at the bow of the ship, looking at the approaching English coastline. “We’ll have to pretend. Again.”

Caroline’s eyes shone with tears like crystal. “It doesn’t matter to me anymore, André. We both know the captain won’t be coming back from his voyage to find the Northwest Passage. Why should we delay, when we love each other? We have already wasted the best years of our lives apart.”

“Because it would make all the difference in the world -- and you know it. In a year, we can be together, and people will cheer. No one will blame you. I am an adventurer with my own mantle of fame, as well as Emperor Napoleon’s blessing, and you are a successful businesswoman.” He narrowed his eyes and clasped her hand earnestly. “But if we flaunt our love now, Caroline, I will be seen as a scoundrel, and you as an adulteress.” She turned away, but Nemo gripped her hand more tightly. “You know it as well as I do.”

She nodded, but refused to let her tears fall. “That is why we must make the most of every moment together now.”

When they returned to Paris, with the public watching, time had dragged on. Nemo steeled himself to avoid the woman he loved as much as possible. He would not tempt her further . . . or himself. That would only make the wait more unbearable for both of them.

To Nemo, being near Caroline was like playing with fire, and he found it impossible to drive her from his thoughts. The sea passage to Zanzibar and the balloon journey across Africa held memories even more joyful than his carefree childhood on the Loire. And the voyage home had been heaven.

But now Caroline would be right here. In Paris. Close. Too close. It was going to be a very long year. . . .

Once back in France, Nemo had grown restless. He often walked the streets before dawn, wide awake with memories and dreams, trying not to think of Caroline. At twenty-six, he should have been at the height of his ambitions. Yet he found his civilized life dreary, without adventure or goals.

In the early morning he enjoyed watching shopkeepers crank out their awnings, fish sellers set up their stalls