Chapter III
III
Bess had barely cleaned herself up with a handkerchief when a whistle sounded.
The men gathered and stood at attention awaiting the captain, who had gone below once the vessel had reached open sea.
Bess imagined him – an old man with a grey beard, a face as wrinkled as a prune, and a voice as loud as a harpy.
A rough, seasoned old salt. She would probably be obliged to share his table once or twice, but then she would make an excuse to keep to her quarters.
Let the two spinsters partake of his food and wine. Bess wanted none of it.
At first, she thought the man who came on deck must be a common sailor. He was young – young and handsome – with rich chestnut hair pulled back on the nape of his neck underneath a bicorn hat. But his coat was blue and fine with brass buttons and gold braid at the shoulders. Could he be…
The captain?
His eyes fell upon hers, as blue as the summer sky.
A sky filled with an oncoming storm, for surely the sensation that wracked her body must be akin to a lightning bolt.
She bowed her head and curtsied, not daring to meet those eyes, which she could feel were still on her.
That grey-bearded old salt of her imagination – a part of her wished he were real.
But the rest of her…
All the while he gave directions to the crew, his eyes never strayed far from her face. She could feel the heat of his gaze, the intensity. It was everything she’d imagined – from a husband, a lover. But this man… he was neither. And never could be.
When he finished his address, he came over to her and the Misses Applebaum. He spoke courteously to the two elderly women first, as was fitting. They tittered and fidgeted, clearly unused to male attention. He directed the first mate to show them back to their quarters. And then, he turned to her.
‘Miss Trevelyn,’ he said, his voice broad with what Bess assumed was a West Country accent.
‘Welcome aboard the Halcyon. I am Captain James Penhelion. We will do what we can to make your voyage a comfortable one, though, as you may be aware, this is a working vessel, and even in fair weather, the seas are not without risk. I suggest that you keep to your quarters as much as you are able. It is safer that way.’
She inclined her head. ‘Thank you, Captain. I am aware that the waters where we sail are rife with pirates and Frenchmen. But I have no intention of being confined. I shall have enough of that once I reach my destination and am united with a man I have never met.’
She looked at him below half-closed lids. He seemed startled by her plain talk. But the look he gave her contained an element of admiration too.
‘I know your betrothed, miss,’ he said, ‘for he is my cousin. The owner of this ship, in fact.’
‘I am aware that he is a wealthy man. But pray, tell me, is he a good man?’
The captain did not answer for a long moment. ‘He is a man,’ he said. ‘And therefore, by definition, undeserving of a fair creature such as you.’
Bess blushed to the roots of her hair.
‘You speak pretty words, but I am not sure I like their meaning.’
‘Nor do I, miss. But I choose not to lie or mislead. In that way, I am far the inferior of my cousin. He is well-versed in pretty speech. But what lies beneath his words, I cannot vouch for.’
‘You give me little comfort,’ Bess said.
He smiled then and in that moment, something inside her died a little death; at the same time, something monumental was born.
‘Let me put that right,’ he said. ‘Join me in my quarters for supper. The fare is lean, I’m afraid, but it is the best I can offer.’
‘Then I accept your offer,’ Bess said. She looked down demurely and quietly spoke brazen words. ‘And I shall look forward to it.’