Chapter 20
Mary Bowers was not elderly, yet she had fully white hair already.
Based on her smooth face, I assumed she could not have been older than fifty.
Her eyes were extraordinarily shrewd and intelligent as she regarded us.
We stood on the porch. Elizabeth had introduced us, and we were waiting to see whether she’d accept us as guests or not.
Mr. Ashby had deposited the crate on the porch, and Mr. Ward left after greeting Mrs. Bowers.
She smiled and I immediately relaxed. “You’re all very welcome.
I’m glad to know Graham has people who care enough for him to travel so far.
It is by God’s grace that you’ve found us.
We have tried to keep the harbor of the Maelstrom hidden from the public.
It would not have been easy to find us if you’d docked at Basseterre. ”
“We’re truly fortunate to have run into the Maelstrom,” Mr. Ashby answered.
I stepped forward. “I understand we have you to thank for saving Graham. It seems we owe much to your mission.” I smiled at her, hoping she would see my sincerity.
“Well, we’ll have to put you to work, then.” She winked at me.
“You should have seen the bravery they all displayed. They have proven themselves allies.” Elizabeth nodded to me before bidding Mary farewell and leaving us there with her.
Graham barely hesitated before nodding to us and trailing after Elizabeth.
I’d noticed it a few times, that he seemed to follow her.
If she moved, he moved. The way he looked at her, too, made me wonder about the exact details of their relationship.
Mrs. Bowers pulled me back to the conversation.
“If Eliza approves of you, I must as well.” It seemed she already had, so her words were only for humor’s sake.
She waved us inside. “I’ll have someone take you to the guest rooms.” She spoke to a young woman with rich sepia skin who was holding linen with the intention of going upstairs, judging by her foot on the first step.
“Lottie, will you see these tired souls to bedrooms? I’m sure they’d like to clean up and change their clothes.
Find something for them, if you don’t mind.
” She eyed Mr. Ashby briefly. “Oh, and for the gentleman, you can sort through Mr. Bower’s old dressing room.
I think there are still a few breeches and waistcoats left among them. ”
Lottie nodded. “Yes’m.” She turned her direct gaze to us. “If you’ll follow me, please.”
We went up the wide staircase and turned right at the landing.
The first room was given to me, and I went inside alone and looked around.
It was small, compared to my bedroom at home.
But compared to the lodgings I’d endured for the past two months, it was a castle in itself.
I didn’t dare sit on the lovely white bedspread or the embroidered chair in front of a vanity, which sat opposite a window.
I went to the large open window and looked outside.
Below me was an expanse of green grass and bright flowers in beds simply placed around the house.
It was a garden, but without any design or statues to enhance it. I found it quaint and pleasing.
After a few minutes, two men brought in a tub. Three women followed in after them with steaming pitchers of water. It took several trips of multiple people to fill the tub, and I couldn’t wait to sink into it. Once I did, a sigh escaped me. It felt amazing.
I sat in the tub for much too long, and my fingers and toes were wrinkled by the time I wrapped myself in a robe.
Thankfully, I had already been provided with a simple dress and shoes.
Once dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror.
My vanity made me want to cry, for the state of my skin was dismal.
Dry, red, and peeling. My lips fared better than the rest of my face, as I was no longer parched.
I wondered how long it would take to heal.
I wished for the lotions I was so accustomed to at home; perhaps they would have helped.
Without such luxuries, however, I decided to accept how I looked. And I even took it a step further.
I left my hair down. It wasn’t the most proper thing to do, but the tone of the island felt so different from any other place I’d been. It was so relaxed, so peaceful, so free. I felt like letting go of propriety a bit. I’d never liked most of society’s restraints anyway.
Patrice was outside my door when I opened it, poised to knock. She held up a tray with an assortment of food and my stomach growled. How had I not noticed my hunger before now? “I’ve already eaten with the crew, but I brought this for ye,” she said.
“Thank you!” I took it from her and sat down to gorge myself on fruit, ham, and toast. “Oh, this is divine!” I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had proper food.
“Ye’ve been up here for so long, I thought maybe ye needed help,” Patrice commented while watching me eat.
I spoke with my mouth full. “I’m fine.”
She looked at my hair, down and so long it touched my hips. “Are ye sure ye dinnae need help putting yer hair up?”
I grinned. “No. I prefer it down.”
Disapproval was evident in her eyes, but she let it be. She knew arguing wouldn’t change anything. “I thought I would ask Mrs. Bowers how I could help around the house. What are yer plans now that ye’ve found Mr. Anderson and we’re on land?”
I chewed thoughtfully. Then, swallowing, I placed my fists on the table.
“I have one mission and one mission only. To bring Graham home and marry him.” This had been my goal from the very beginning, and I was determined to see it through.
After all, if there was ever a man for me, it was Graham Anderson.
I frowned at the memory of telling Melody that very thing.
“Are ye worried he willnae remember ye?” Patrice, always forthright and honest.
I nodded, dropping my gaze. “Nothing can be done until he regains his memories. Right?” I met her eyes.
“Aye. Ye have to help him remember.”
“He seems…happy, doesn’t he?” I played with the handle on my teacup, trying to work through my thoughts.
Patrice didn’t answer; instead, she stood and looked out the window.
Seeing her like that, silhouetted against the late morning sky, made me think of the dozens of times I’d looked out the window at Edleroy.
That memory made me jump to my feet. “Oh! Everyone must be so worried. I should write home.” I walked over to the vanity and searched the drawers.
“Where do you think they would keep the parchment and ink?”
She looked around with me for a few minutes before we came up empty and decided to ask someone. We met with Lottie when we went downstairs. She was in the dining room, cleaning up after breakfast, it seemed. She eyed me, specifically my hair, when I spoke to her.
“Where can I find pen and paper?” I asked.
“Mistress keeps that in her study. I’ll go fetch it for you after I’m done here. Shall I bring it to your room?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. Thank you. Can we help you with anything?” I held out my hands to take the plates in her arms.
She smiled and shook her head. “No, Miss. This is my job. There’s no shortage of things to do on the estate.” Her small chuckle made me smile as she went to the kitchen with the stack of dishes.
Patrice clucked her tongue. “I’m going to help her,” she said before starting toward the kitchen. She turned back, then, and nodded toward the entryway. “I saw Mr. Anderson at the front door last. Ye should talk while ye wait.”
She went into the kitchen and I turned toward the entryway. Butterflies collected in my stomach as I thought about approaching Graham again. What would I say to him now that the danger had passed and we were on solid land? Without something like surviving to occupy us, how would we move forward?
Graham stood on the porch, speaking with Mr. Ashby.
It had been three long years since I’d seen them next to each other like that.
They seemed to be speaking casually, as if perfectly comfortable with each other.
This strange situation must be easier for Mr. Ashby than for me.
A male friend was much simpler to accept, probably, than a rejected woman who’d sacrificed everything to find her betrothed.
I pulled in a deep breath and then let it go slowly before walking outside.
I hoped to catch something they were saying, but as I approached, the conversation stopped.
“Miss Findlay,” Mr. Ashby greeted as he turned to me. His eyes widened as he took in my long hair. “You’ve let your hair down.”
I took hold of a handful of strands and ran it through my fingers. “Don’t you think it’s the perfect place to let our hair down?” He hadn’t. His long, blond hair had been neatly tied back. Grinning, I shifted my gaze from Mr. Ashby to Graham. “What were you speaking of?”
“Nothing in particular,” Graham responded. He regarded me for a moment, taking in my appearance, from what I could tell. “You seem very different now.”
I nearly gasped. “You…remember me?”
His expression immediately hardened, and I could almost see a wall being erected between us. “No, I meant since the ship. If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed at the mission.”
He left, and I regretted jumping to conclusions.
This would never work if I continued to make him uncomfortable.
I’d thought we would be able to speak once we left the Maelstrom.
The conversation we’d had in his cabin made me think he’d want to, but from his quick dismissal, it seemed that was not the case.
I would have to gain his trust before trying to jog his memory.
Mr. Ashby sighed, probably interpreting my emotions accurately. “Don’t worry, Miss Findlay. He doesn’t want to disappoint you. You know how he is.”
I met his eyes. “Do I?”
“Of course you do. He’s still Graham, even without his memories.” He gave me a comforting smile.