40. In which there is a happy day and a Rogue #3
Fliss laughed, and Septimus rolled his eyes, his face creasing into a smile. He lifted her from the coffee table.
“Come with me,” he said into her ear, setting her down. He took her hand, pulling her from the room, the door closing on the riot inside.
“Where are we going?” Like she didn’t know. She had seen the way he was looking at her.
“You’ll see.” They walked along the hallway.
“The bedrooms are upstairs. Not this way.”
“We’re not going to a bedroom. What’s wrong with you? This is Charlotte’s house.”
Hester smirked. “She would not mind. She would not know!”
He shook his head and drew her into the sitting room. “I have something to show you.”
“In the sitting room? Well, alright. I’d rather a bed but the wall or settee will do just fine.”
“That’s not what I mean. You are insufferable, Hester.”
Hester chortled. He’d said that before, long ago. “If you are not going to show me what I hoped you were going to show me, pray tell, what is it?”
He pulled her to the settee, and laid on the coffee table was a large piece of paper. “I wanted to show you this.”
She focussed on the paper. Fine blue lines traced the outline of a ship. Side views, stern view, layouts, sail plans, rigging plans.
She narrowed her eyes. “The double bracing is well intended, but I would change the line of the bow. What ship is this? I have never seen her.”
“I have commissioned her to be built.”
Hester’s stomach hollowed out. She knew he would eventually buy a new ship. But she didn’t expect this sudden loss to drag her under. He would have a new ship, and she would not.
“How fine,” she murmured, nausea threatening. She didn’t know what else to say. Wanted to cling to him for comfort but couldn’t bring herself to touch him.
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “She will be ready in six months. What do you say?”
“She looks wonderful. Congratulations.” The words tasted like tar in her mouth.
She longed to live on board a ship again.
She had been staying at Septimus’s fine townhouse, but his mother was constantly there, and she did not feel at home among the luxury.
But living aboard a vessel now was impossible.
The Valour had been a once in a lifetime opportunity.
She barely had a penny to her name, could never buy another. Her eyes burned with tears.
He laid a hand either side of her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “Whatever is the matter? I thought you’d be thrilled.”
Hester sniffed. “It’s all very well for you. I shall never own another ship. I feel the Valour’s loss like a hole in the head.”
“I don’t think you understand.” He gently turned her head back to the page and pointed. “Look at the name.”
Hester dragged her eyes to the plans. Didn’t want to look at them again. She shut her eyes.
“Hester. Look at the name,” he said, voice low.
She opened her eyes, lips pursed together, and read, ‘Valour II’.
“I bought her for us. For you. Together.”
Together. She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the words.
He reached into a pocket inside of his jacket and withdrew something that sparkled in his hand. Her gaze snapped down. A ring, diamonds and sapphires winking at her.
Her face cracked into a smile. She covered her mouth with a shaking hand.
“Hester,” he said, his voice soft, sensuous.
She grabbed his shoulders and threw him from the settee to the floor. “Get on one knee,” she hissed.
He laughed, kneeling before her. “Hester Orn. Would you marry me?”
Hester cackled, throwing her head back. It was perfect.
It was everything she wanted, everything she had hoped for.
She stopped laughing. Hesitated. That old fear of abandonment raising its ugly head once more.
Did she deserve any of this? The comfort, when she had only known hardship.
The promise of forever companionship, when she had been left to fend for herself from such a very young age.
It jarred with the independence that she clung to, to accept him, to give all of herself over to him.
Would she still voyage wherever the wind took her? Or would he call the shots?
“Hester?” he prompted, a sudden look of fear in his eyes.
She laid a hand over her heart. Valour in the face of fear. Her mother’s voice echoed through her head. Embrace your fears. Do not run from them.
She held out her left hand. “Only if you will not cage me.”
He slid the ring onto her finger, and she gave a pleased hum in her throat. The ring sat on the S of HOLD FAST. S for Septimus. Like she had been meant for him all along.
“I could never cage you. I swear it, on the life of my crew.”
She smiled, gave him a curt nod, and inspected the ring, running her tongue over her teeth. “That will do nicely.”
She picked up a pencil from the table and crossed out the name Valour II. “We cannot call her that.” She wrote a new name on top of the old.
Septimus grinned, his forehead smoothing out. “Rogue?”
She jumped on his lap, knocking him flat on the rug. “Rogue.”
Charlotte was sure that if she were to die at this very moment, she would die happy.
The crews were still dancing, and though Hester and Septimus had disappeared for a while, they had returned.
Hester was hiding her hands inside Septimus’s jacket, but Charlotte could have sworn she saw the wink of gemstones, and the look on Hester’s face was even more jubilant than it had been.
Hester sidled over. “Congratulations, Mrs Bailey-Miller. We are heading home. I shall see you after your honeymoon.”
Charlotte stilled. If Hester was leaving, she was sure the others would soon follow. She clenched her teeth. Arnold was springing into action, rounding up the rest of the crew, ushering them to the door. Charlotte’s mouth dried out, her throat closing up.
“Good God, Boss,” Hester chuckled. “You look as if you’re about to be taken to the slaughter.”
The problem with living in such close quarters for two years was that Hester could read her like a book.
Charlotte fidgeted with a curl of hair that had come loose.
She was frustrated that she was still nervous.
That was the main problem. She had wanted to grow, to change, to become not just bolder, but as bold as Hester.
She wanted to be Hester. And she still wasn’t, even after everything she’d battled through.
She still got nervous, still doubted herself.
Hester took her hand, dragging her into the hall. The front door stood open, the crew spilling noisily into the night, talk of going to The Black Harpoon on the air.
Odette blew her a kiss, calling, “Have a wonderful wedding night, my loves!”
“Don’t go yet,” Charlotte hissed, clutching at Hester’s hand.
“It is time,” Hester said with a wink. “Remember, Charlotte. Life expands proportionately to the courage you have in yourself. But it doesn’t mean you have to be fearless. In fact, the odd thing about bravery is that if you’re doing it right, it feels a lot like fear.”
Yes.
That was exactly it.
“How are you so wise?” Charlotte whispered, her eyes narrowed.
Hester was closing the front door, her face framed, grinning. “Perhaps I know exactly how you feel. Perhaps I just wear my fears deeper than you wear yours.”
The door closed.
Charlotte whirled around to find Arnold standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the banister. “Are you ready to call it a night, Mrs Bailey-Miller? If you’re nervous we needn’t…you know.”
Charlotte grinned, white teeth flashing in the moonlight that spilled through the window above the door. “Oh, but we do,” she said. “Hester and Odette told me some things. Things I’d like to try.”
Arnold’s face pulled into a grimace. “They did?”
She grasped Arnold by the hand, dragged him up the stairs and to the bedroom, an ache forming in her. And as he undressed her, she shook with fear and anticipation and joy.
She had suffered, starved, and triumphed, grovelled down yet grasped at glory, grown bigger in the bigness of the whole. She had seen God in His splendours, heard the text that nature renders. She had reached the naked soul of man.
And as she reached for the naked body of Arnold, twined herself around him, she had Valour in the face of fear.
THE END