Chapter 27
It had been a long day in the mill. Having to handle the syrup carefully for hours to avoid burns had made my back and arms ache.
My worries had lessened, however, after speaking to Eliza—she asked me to call her so after our heart-to-heart.
Despite the underlying tension in our relationship, I admitted that I’d love to be her friend.
If not for Graham standing between us, we would be already.
Patrice had a bath ready for me when I arrived. She could always predict my needs better than I could. After getting clean, I dressed and went down for dinner. Everyone was in the same spot as yesterday, so I sat next to Mr. Ashby again.
“How did it go?” he asked, watching me expectantly. Seeing his blue eyes after a long day brought me a sense of comfort, along with another emotion I wasn’t expecting. I had missed him.
I glanced down the table at Graham’s empty seat.
Eliza hadn’t arrived yet, either. My eyes met Mr. Ashby’s again.
“It was strange, but productive.” I straightened my silverware as something to occupy my hands.
“Did you have an enjoyable time bookkeeping?” I smiled to myself as I recalled the excitement he’d displayed on the Katarina.
“Indeed. It was most invigorating,” he said. His voice held a smile and I looked up to confirm he was grinning.
“How peculiar,” I commented, narrowing my eyes.
“I know, I’m strange.” He looked at me with mirth.
“No, I meant how I can hear your smile before I see it. We must have spent far too much time together.” I pulled up a corner of my mouth.
“I wouldn't say too much. But a fair amount, yes.” He chuckled, then leaned closer to me. “Tell me, how did your conversation with Miss Jones go?” he asked secretly.
My sigh didn’t quite illustrate my feelings, but it definitely helped prepare him. “In some ways very well, in others very poorly. I will say this, though.” I moved my knife over slightly as I paused. “I think she might be the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”
“And here I thought that position belonged to me,” he said with a dramatic frown.
I couldn’t help my laugh. “It is interesting how boring your interests are,” I teased.
He began moving his silverware, too, and our hands accidentally collided. Only our pinkies touched, but the effect was powerful and immediate. Neither of us moved. What was this undeniable pull I felt toward Mr. Ashby?
He is a good friend, that is all. I had to repeat that to myself several times before I was able to pull my hand away. Yet another moment we would pretend never happened, I supposed.
Just then, Graham entered the dining room and I straightened at the sight of him. Guilt roiled in my gut. Then Eliza followed him to their seats, and another emotion joined the other dozen complicated ones. She smiled at me as she sat. Graham nodded toward me and then at Mr. Ashby in greeting.
After my conversation with Eliza, the need to regroup and refocus my intentions toward Graham became evident. Not only did I want my Graham back, she wanted his mind to be whole. Only then would this tangled web of emotions be sorted out.
Mary Bowers sat at the head of the table, Mr. and Mrs. Weiss to her right, Captain Whitmore at the other end of the table. Again, Mr. Weiss began our dinner with a prayer and we ate after saying Amen.
“Mr. Ashby had a good look at our books today,” Mr. Weiss said to Mrs. Bowers. “He had a few suggestions to discuss with you.”
Mrs. Bowers looked at Mr. Ashby. “I’m all ears. How can we improve things?” She leaned onto her clasped hands, giving him her undivided attention.
“I don’t want to ruin your dinner. If you’d rather discuss this elsewhere, we can do so,” Mr. Ashby said.
“Perhaps it is a bit ill-mannered to talk business at the dinner table. But I’m sure you can tell we don’t conform to society here.” She smiled at him, then held out a hand to show him she was ready to hear what he had to say.
“I enjoy some deviation from etiquette. Society can be stifling.” He straightened in his seat and began.
“As you’ve said, sugar has decreased in profitability for several years now.
I believe that’s the biggest problem. I suggest investing in something else.
Cotton succeeds in the United States and other Caribbean islands, so that has potential.
Another option would be to use the Maelstrom for business.
Since Captain Whitmore works for the benefit of the mission, the crew can take shipments of sugar to Britain instead of chartering other ships.
It will increase efficiency.” He glanced at Captain Whitmore, who was listening attentively.
“Of course, I know that goes against the Maelstrom’s goal to rid the seas of pirates.
But patronizing such an effort is draining money from the mission. ”
Mr. Ashby speaking with precision and calculated indifference made him seem a true professional. He’d told me once that being immersed in numbers relaxed him, while his mind was exercised.
Mrs. Bowers nodded. “You’re more than a pretty face, after all.
Thank you for taking the time to evaluate the budget with such accuracy.
I had been considering other crops for some time.
Cotton seems the best option. Would you help me look into making the switch?
I’m not sure how feasible it would be to turn a sugar mill into a cotton mill. ”
“I will help however I can.” When Mr. Ashby met my eyes, I had to check my expression. I admitted to myself I found it attractive that he was able to provide such a service to the mission. Hopefully that wasn’t written on my face. I averted my eyes and concentrated on my plate once more.
The rest of the table had engaged in other discussions, and I wondered especially what captivated Graham and Eliza. Captain Whitmore was speaking animatedly, and they were watching him with amusement.
When dinner ended, we went to the drawing room and I made an effort to be near Graham when we gathered to play cards.
I suggested we play a game that we used to play at Edleroy.
It was a strategy I’d created with Melody three years ago, to make Graham fall for me again.
It had worked back then, reminding him of our summers together; perhaps it would again.
I explained the game, and we began. Graham had always been good at games; he understood the rules quickly and he was a master at strategy. His innate ability did not fail him now. He won three rounds in a row. We all threw down our cards in frustration.
“I thought I would finally have a chance to beat you,” I complained. “Do you truly not remember anything?”
Graham grinned. Then he turned serious, though his eyes danced with humor. “I do feel a sense of familiarity in this moment…is it just because I often win at cards?”
We all laughed at his arrogance, then played another round.
Eliza won this time, and she stood to bow after her victory.
We applauded her while Graham pouted in jest. I smiled at him, remembering moments like this at Edleroy.
We were always laughing and teasing each other, Cameron often the target of the joke.
Then games became even more fun when Melody joined us.
The four of us had such a good time together, I’d wished it would never end. Then Graham left.
It was a shame that every happy memory of Graham was tinged in sadness.
His presence in my life brought me the greatest joy, but also caused my deepest sorrows.
That was a sign of true love, wasn’t it?
The person we love the deepest can hurt us the most. That paradox sometimes made me question why anyone ever loved at all.
But the happy memories were worth all the sad ones.
I wondered how Graham felt with no memories whatsoever?
When everyone decided to be done for the night, I took Graham aside. “Will you spend the day with me tomorrow? I can help you in any task you have been assigned.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Ye’ll harvest cane with me?” He looked me up and down. “I’m not sure ye could do what’s required. ’Tis hard labor, Miss Findlay.”
I nodded resolutely. “I can handle it.”
A faint smile graced his face. “Then I’ll meet ye at dawn in the south fields,” he said before heading to his bedroom.
Mr. Ashby caught me before I went upstairs. “Are you sure you want to work in the fields tomorrow?”
“Why? You don’t think I can do it either?” I narrowed my eyes at him. He wasn’t one to question my capabilities.
“You know that is not what I meant. But will working in the fields alongside Graham help him regain his memories?” He tilted his head. “I doubt you will have much time alone.”
I sighed. “What is another recourse? He wouldn’t wish to renege on his duties.”
“Perhaps there is a compromise. Speak with Mrs. Bowers and ask if there is something else the two of you can do together, something that will allow you time to speak.”
I nodded, thinking what that task might be. “Thank you. I’ll go ask her right now.”
Mrs. Bowers was in the dining room when I found her, speaking with a man I recognized from the Maelstrom.
She was holding, of all things, my carpet bag!
She saw me and thanked the crew member, and he left.
She held up the carpet bag, and I rushed over and took hold of it as she relinquished it to me.
“Where did you find it?”
“James just gave it to me. He said your dinghy washed up on shore, and he saw letters inside addressed to Graham. He figured they must be yours.” She watched me open the bag and pull out the letters.
I worried they were ruined, but though they were damp, it seemed the words were not illegible.
“The number of coincidences that had to occur for these to return to me makes me truly believe in providence.” I looked at her with utter amazement.
“I feel you have struggled immensely and have borne it well. You will succeed in your endeavor in the end. Good things come to those who wait,” she encouraged.
I teared up at the word wait. If good things were coming to me, they must be exceptional, for I had waited longer than anyone should.
This miracle was a very good start. I felt hopeful.
I hugged the carpet bag to my chest. Then I asked her about Mr. Ashby’s idea to find something Graham and I could do that would allow us to speak.
“Let me think. Graham typically chooses the fields because he is strong. But he’s more than capable of using his mind as well.
And not every important task requires physical labor.
” She tapped her chin. “Mr. Weiss was telling me that the children are working on making hymnals with Mrs. Weiss. You could help in that effort. Graham enjoys music; it would be perfect. Besides, spending time with the children at the mission is coveted among the workers.” She touched my shoulder. “I wish you luck, Miss Findlay.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bowers. I’ll ask Graham if he will accompany me there tomorrow.”
I had watched Graham disappear into his room, so I knocked on the door. He opened it a minute later and looked at me curiously. “Miss Findlay,” he said with a questioning tone.
I held up my carpet bag. “Something miraculous has happened,” I said.
After placing the bag down on the ground, I pulled out the stack of letters.
“These washed up on shore. I thought they were gone forever, but here they are, though a bit soggy. These are my unsent letters to you. They might help spark some memories. I mention the letters you wrote to me while you were traveling, so it isn’t just my own thoughts. ” I smiled hopefully at him.
I handed the first one to him. “Read them when you have time, and come to me with any questions.”
He took the missive and nodded absently while reading.
I waited eagerly for some sign that my words helped.
Nothing happened, but I wasn’t deterred.
He finished reading the letter and looked at me, then at the stack of letters in my hands.
“Are ye certain ye want me to read these? They seem verra personal.”
I frowned. “They were meant for you. They only seem personal because you don’t remember our bond.” I tried to smile. “There’s nothing that I’m ashamed of in them.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Thank ye.” As I waited there, he furrowed his brows. “Was there something else?”
“Yes. I wanted to discuss something with you.”
Graham folded his arms, letting the letters hang by the string that held them together. “Go on.”
“Considering everything, I think our time would be better spent somewhere we could have a conversation.”
“I am needed in the fields.”
“I know, but I spoke with Mrs. Bowers and she suggested we go to the mission instead. The children are putting together hymnals and they need help. Would you consider changing your task, just for tomorrow? I can help you harvest the day after if you’d like.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Verra well. I know it would be beneficial for us to spend time together talking. Let's meet in the front after breakfast.”
“Great. I will see you then. Good night, Graham.”
He nodded. “Good night, Miss Findlay.”
I paused before leaving. “Can you…call me Elsie? It would mean a lot to me.”
He nodded again. “Good night, Elsie.”
The door closed and I walked down the corridor with lighter steps.
Hearing Graham say my name sent glee rushing through me.
Almost as if he had remembered me, though I knew he didn’t.
Still, it was a start. Tomorrow would be an important step in the right direction. A step I hoped would lead us back home.