Chapter 8
We worked alongside each other for a few days, all the while telling stories of Graham. I learned that Mr. Ashby saw him as a brother, someone he could rely on wholly for strength and support.
He had leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the feather on his quill as he spoke with a slight smile. “If I didn’t know what to do, inevitably Graham did. I’m adept at bargaining and finding investors. Graham has a head for legal matters and working through trade restrictions.”
He set down his quill and stood, walking to a cabinet to look for something.
“Once, we were stopped by a blockade in a place we had been a few times before.” He pulled out a ledger, then looked at me as he continued his story.
“Apparently, there had been some naval upheaval. Most ships moved on, but not Graham. It would have cost us thousands of pounds and several days’ worth of rations if we didn’t stop at that port. ”
He sat again. “So, he deftly found the right person and made his case using legal phrases I didn’t understand.
He gave proof we were eligible to trade there, regardless of restrictions from new treaties.
Without his knowledge of the ever-changing laws and power struggles in the West Indies, we never would have gotten so far. ”
I nodded, smiling to myself as I recalled conversations with Graham. I looked down at the desk. “He wanted to study law. If not for needing to support his mother, he probably would have.”
“Perhaps if our business had succeeded, he could have.” Mr. Ashby sighed.
I nodded, then continued writing as I had been doing before our conversation began.
I remembered well when Graham’s dream of studying law was shattered. He had been coming to Edleroy every summer for years, happily playing with Cam and me without much care for the future. But then his father died, leaving them with nothing.
Graham sat near the river, throwing rocks.
The look on his face made my young sixteen-year-old heart break.
I had loved him for years, wishing that he’d see me as I saw him.
Whatever I wished, however, he was going through something difficult, and I was his friend.
I sat down next to him, watching him from the corner of my eye while I threw in a few pebbles of my own.
He stopped and looked over at me. “What are ye doin’ here?” I could hear the tears in his voice. He’d been crying.
I shrugged. “I thought throwing rocks looked fun. Figured I’d join you.”
He sighed, then made to get up. But I put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Just sit with me for a moment. You don’t have to say anything. Just…let me be here for you.”
When our gazes met, I saw affection bloom in his eyes.
My stomach fluttered. Did he finally see me?
I tried not to think of my feelings for him.
I simply meant to help him feel better, to be a good friend to him.
But he didn’t turn away. Instead, his breathing seemed to stop and his gaze dropped to my mouth. Surely he wasn’t thinking…
Should I stop him? This wasn’t the time for my wishes to come true. Not when he was grieving. But I didn’t stop him. When he leaned down and lightly brushed against my lips, I pressed against him. It was brief, too brief.
He pulled away, barely looking at me. Then, he uttered heart-breaking words of farewell. “I must away. My mum will be needing me to take care of things. Thank ye, for…everythin’, Elsie.”
I could barely move, but he was standing and walking away as if nothing had happened at all. Did he love me or not? I shook my head. No, that still didn’t matter. He’d just lost his father. I stayed there for much too long. When I returned to the castle, Graham was riding away.
I cried all night and thought I would never see him again.
Come to think of it, our entire relationship had been equal parts saying farewell and reuniting. Saying goodbye to Graham almost became second nature to me, just as waiting for him had become.
“You know,” Mr. Ashby said slowly, “I understand where he’s coming from, ending your engagement.”
I jerked my head up to send him a glare. “Don’t ever say such a thing. What he did was ridiculous and unnecessary. And offensive.”
He held up his hands in defeat. “I’m simply sympathizing with him.
He feels embarrassed by our failure and is afraid to show you his face.
I’m not saying he did the right thing.” His eyes softened and he flicked his feathered quill in my direction.
“He made a terrible mistake, letting you go. If you hadn’t come with me, I would’ve made sure he knew that. ”
“Good.” With that acknowledgement of his sound reasoning, I focused on my writing.
Though after Mr. Ashby’s comment about what he’d do once we found Graham, I couldn’t stop imagining what I would say when we finally faced each other.
How dare you make this decision on your own?
I did not spend my entire life loving you to give up now.
You thought a letter would suffice, truly? You coward.
Patrice made a noise, and I glanced over to see her head falling back against the cushion.
She rarely stayed awake while we worked on accounts.
I ripped off a small piece of paper, rolled it up, and tossed it at her.
It hit her forehead and she sniffed, rubbing where the paper had hit.
I watched another piece hit her left eye and I glanced over at Mr. Ashby, who’d joined in on my game.
We threw a few more paper balls at her before she woke up with a groan.
“Wha…” she said, looking around her as if trying to figure out where she was. She saw the both of us laughing and narrowed her eyes. “What’re ye laughin’ about?”
I pretended to be fully invested in my work, but my uncontrollable laughter did not help. I felt a piece of paper hit my ear and saw Patrice pick up another to throw it at Mr. Ashby.
“Yer both troublesome,” she accused.
For the next few minutes, we wasted nearly a full page—which wasn’t easy to come by on a ship—and littered the room with rolled-up pieces for the purpose of our war. By the end, we were all holding our stomachs while we laughed.