32. In which there is sharp-shooting and a difficult decision #2
Septimus hesitated. “It’s for the good of the crews, Hester. We have to act in their best—”
“You’re not shooting my dogs!” Hester yelled, stamping her foot.
Charlotte gasped, the bottom falling out of her stomach. “No! Absolutely not.” She ran into the middle of the circle, her finger pointed at Septimus. “You cannot. It’s my expedition. I bought the dogs. You cannot eat them. I won’t allow it.”
Septimus sighed. “We can’t fit them all in the lifeboats.
At some point they’ll either starve to death, or we’ll have to shoot them rather than leave them on the ice.
We had to shoot three last week who turned lame on the march, and five died of worms the week before.
” He turned to take Hester’s hands in his own and kissed her knuckles. “You know it makes sense.”
Charlotte gripped Arnold’s arm tightly, nausea taking over her stomach. She couldn’t abide this. “They’ll fit in the boats. They have to! I won’t have it.”
Septimus only shook his head. “I’ll shoot my own if you won’t allow yours to be shot, but it makes sense to lose two teams for now.”
Hester crouched by Sooty, wrapping her arms around her neck. “You cannot shoot Sooty!”
“No, not Sooty. Some of the others. Perhaps we should put it to a vote.”
“Please.” Charlotte looked at each crew member in turn, her hands wrapped together, heart in her mouth. “Please don’t.” This couldn’t be happening.
Hester threw her hands up, tears lining her eyes. “Fine. Those in favour of shooting two teams of the Intrepid’s dogs, raise your hand.”
Charlotte turned and ran from the group, Arnold following her as she crashed through the tent flaps and threw herself to the floor.
“I cannot see who votes. I swear, this is the worst day I’ve had here.” She burst into tears, getting inside her sleeping bag until her head was covered, the dark encasing her as she wept. Marjorie lay down next to her, whining.
“I know it’s hard. I know.” Arnold’s hand rested on her shoulder.
“Don’t tell me you agree?” She went rigid under his touch.
He remained silent, and she poked her head out to fix him with a glare.
He huffed a miserable sigh. “I don’t like the idea, but it’s getting to the time when difficult decisions have to be made. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“I’d give up my place in the lifeboat for Marjorie, for her pups. I’m not shooting them. I’d rather die. It’s all my fault those poor animals are going to be murdered.” She sobbed harder, sure her heart would break, and Arnold wrapped his arms around her, laying down by her side.
“The dogs have had the most wonderful time, doing what they love best. And nothing will happen to your most beloved ones, don’t fret about that.”
Shots rang out, and Charlotte wailed, pressing her hands to her ears.
Arnold held her tighter, until the gunshots stopped.
She felt him get into his own sleeping bag and nestle up behind her, like he did every night, his knees tucked up under hers.
She wiped her eyes, ruffled the fur between Marjorie’s ears and took a deep breath.
When things are darkest, look to the light.
He was her light. She was sure of that now.
Charlotte rolled over to face Arnold. She looked into his hazel eyes, at the longing there, and hoped it was answered in her gaze.
It was time to come clean about that night.
“There’s something I have to tell you.” Surely telling him wouldn’t be as bad as what had just happened.
She took a shaking breath. “A few years ago, I met a man. A charming man, or so he seemed. I met him at one of Ernie’s parties, before we were married.
I wasn’t even meant to be there on my own, but I was keen to find a man who wasn’t my mother’s choice. Stupid, I know.”
Arnold’s brows bunched up, and she knew she was talking too fast.
She continued, because if she stopped, she wasn’t sure she could carry on.
“Anyway, he offered to show me his ship, and I slipped away with him, into the night. And he led me to an alley, and he—” She stopped there, tears filling her eyes.
Oh, she had never told anyone but Ernie.
And surely Arnold would change his mind about her.
Arnold pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. “He harmed you?”
“I mean, he didn’t get far. He didn’t—” she couldn’t say it. “He hitched my skirts and hurt my thigh, before someone heard my scream and stopped him.”
“Oh, Charlotte. I’m so sorry.” He drew back to look at her, eyes full of sorrow. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“And I felt so ashamed that I’d gone on my own without a chaperone. I thought I was so clever. But I was a fool.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You’re no fool, Charlotte Bailey.”
“And then I begged Ernie to marry me. My mother tried to arrange a marriage, but I couldn’t bear a man touching me in that way.”
“I would never ask you to do anything you didn’t want to. Charlotte, I—”
She shook her head. “I don’t feel like that with you. I wouldn’t mind if you—if you touched me. But could you still love me, despite my foolishness?”
Confusion stole over his face. “You are not foolish. You cannot blame yourself for the actions of a man with no morals.” He rested a hand on her cheek.
“I do not think you realise quite how much I have come to love you, Charlotte. You are the sun by which I take all of my bearings, the north my compass arrow points to. I love you as fiercely as the blaze of a thousand auroras—”
Charlotte pressed a finger to his lips. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Laugh, because what he was saying was ridiculous, or cry, because here was her very own declaration of undying love, just for her, and Hester was wrong.
Men could talk like they did in the romance novels.
She moved her finger from his mouth and shuffled forwards a little until her nose grazed his.
He held his breath. “Pinch me,” he whispered. “Am I dreaming?”
“You might be.” She bit her lip. “Shall we find out?” Charlotte pressed her lips against his, her heart fluttering at the softness she found. She drew back, cheeks hot. “Well?”
“No, not dreaming. I think that actually happened.”
“When I thought that sea leopard was going to eat you…”
Arnold stroked her hair away from her face. “I’m glad it didn’t, especially now.” He leant forwards, a question in his eyes, and she tilted her chin towards him in answer. With a hand in her hair, he kissed her softly, reverently.
He asked, “Do you remember the night we met?”
“Of course I remember, because you kissed—”
“The back of your hand. I don’t usually pray, but that night I prayed I’d get to kiss you here one day.” He tapped a finger to her lips, and she smiled, tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks.
“For me, it was when you helped me through the tattoo. Although I was curious from the start when you said you liked dogs.”
Arnold grinned and shifted a little closer, stealing another kiss.
This time, he ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth, and she parted her lips, her pulse quickening as his tongue stroked against her own.
It wasn’t at all how she’d imagined. She felt no desire to shove him away, felt no terror like she had on that night.
His arms wrapped around her, tugging her closer.
He murmured against her mouth, “Charlotte?”
“Yes?”
“Would you marry me?”
She kissed him again, her heart fit to burst. “Yes.”