by Carol Arens
Chapter Seven
The inebriated man, the fire-starter, sat on a cot, his back against the wall of the ship’s only cell. His head sagged forward; his narrow chin nearly touched his chest. With his gaunt body and slumped shoulders, he reminded Rees of a spindly-legged insect.
Even in the dim lamplight he could see that the man’s face was bruised.
‘Have you sent for the doctor?’
‘I don’t know that he deserves it. He might have caused a disaster.’
‘Perhaps he does not, Captain Collier. That does not change the fact that he will have medical care.’ Rees cast a glance over his shoulder. ‘Hayes, fetch the physician.’
‘Yes, Lord Glenbrook, right away. But I agree with the Captain. Mr Harrow deserves what he got.’
‘Dr Raymond will attend him, nonetheless. And, Captain, light a fire in the stove.’
‘I didn’t mean no harm to anyone.’ The drunk’s voice was slurred. Rees wondered if he even understood that the fire he’d accidentally started might have caused an explosion and killed people.
Even now he did not know how much damage had been done. He would no doubt spend the better part of the night with the ship’s mechanic finding it out.
Which meant he would be away from Madeline all night. He had needed a few moments away. But only that, just long enough to gather his courage to become an honest man.
His fear now was that he might not have time to do it.
Once the ship neared land things aboard would become hectic for the crew.
No matter, he would have to make the time. It did not bear thinking that she would discover who he was because it was in front of her face.
* * *
Madeline absently brushed her hair while wondering why it was Rees who had been called in the emergency. The timing of it had been wickedly disappointing.
The intimacy sparking between them had been intense. So intense that he apparently needed a moment away to catch his breath.
And truly, she was glad for it. She also needed a moment to consider the step she felt they had been so close to taking. Once she gave herself to him, she would never go back from it. There would be no annulment.
But a moment was all either of them needed, not these endless hours while he saw to what was happening.
A fire? Really, it did sound rather frightening, although it must have been put out since no alarm had been raised.
* * *
The night dragged by. Once or twice steps tapped on the deck, but passed on by. Later someone paced back and forth in front of the door, cooing to a fussy infant.
As soon as it was dawn, she was going to have severe words for the Captain. It was hard to believe that on this huge ship there was no one to call on but Rees.
Important decisions regarding the future were so close to being made.
It touched her more than he would ever understand that he had left the decision of what was to become of them to her.
Funny how the fact that he had given her a choice made her want to choose him.
If she walked away from this marriage, she had no idea what would come next.
In the event Grandfather took her back, he would probably marry her off to another peer of his choosing.
The room seemed to close around her.
She snugged the shawl about her shoulders and went outside.
The wee hours were clear and still. She was hit anew by the glorious display of stars blinking from horizon to horizon.
Someone else was on deck. A woman sat in a chair, hugging an infant to her breast. The child was asleep.
‘Good morning,’ Madeline said softly. At least she thought it was morning, perhaps about two o’clock. ‘Is your baby ailing?’
‘She’s only teething. I hope we didn’t bother you. But I can’t stay in my cabin or she’ll wake her brothers.’
‘You didn’t disturb me.’
If she had to be sleepless, it was rather nice to have company, misery loving company and all that nonsense.
Of course, she could not count this as misery since her companion seemed a pleasant sort.
‘Would you care for tea? I have some water already warm. My cabin is just behind us.’
‘It is a bone chiller tonight and the offer is tempting, but I’ll need to get back and check on my boys soon.’
‘We’re lucky the wind isn’t blowing, at least.’
Even without the wind, Madeline did not think the baby would be warm enough under her mother’s thin coat. She took off her shawl and tucked it gently about the tiny figure.
She could go back inside and get a blanket for herself, but instead she sat down in the chair beside the woman.
There was something magical about making a new friend in the silent splendour of the wee hours.
‘I’m Madeline Macooish—Dalton now.’
‘I’m grateful for your company, Madeline. My name is Lena Brown.’ She pulled the shawl higher over her baby’s head, covering her daughter’s blonde curls. ‘Aren’t you the lady who nearly died in the lifeboat and then married the man who rescued you?’
She nodded. ‘I fear my fate must be rather well known.’
‘And envied.’
‘I can’t imagine why anyone would.’
Lena chuckled under her breath. ‘Your husband is quite the hero for one thing, coming to your rescue the way he did. And then offering marriage to honour your virtue?’
‘He didn’t offer marriage. He insisted upon it.’
‘So that makes him honourable as well as handsome enough to capture the heart of any woman. I know of five or six young ladies who dream of walking in your slippers.’
The baby whined, but was comforted when Lena rubbed her back.
‘Even though I had no choice in the matter?’
‘Oh, my friend, we rarely do. Most of the time life does not offer choices.’
‘Did you choose your husband?’
‘I did. And I’d do it a hundred times over. But I didn’t choose to become his widow.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear it, truly sorry. I hate to imagine how hard it must be for you.’
‘I’ve learned some things because of it. Grown stronger than I knew I could be.’ She dabbed her eyes even though she was smiling. ‘One thing I can tell you, if you care for some advice.’
‘I think it’s what I need most right now, advice.’
‘From what I’ve seen of Rees Dalton, he’s a fine man. If you care for him, tell him so. You don’t know when you might not be able to.’
Well, she did care for him—cared for him greatly.
‘But I’ve only known him for a week.’
‘I knew my George for only a day before I knew he was to be mine. I think that love is rather like yeast. It’s the same ingredient no matter if it’s newly mixed into the dough or it’s had time to rise and grow. Yeast is yeast.’
And love was love. It was just as real new as it was when it was mature.
‘And with that sage wisdom, I’ve got to get back to my twins.’
Lena stood up, handing back the shawl.
‘Where are you going to from here?’ Madeline asked.
‘To my brother in London. He’s a bachelor, never been wed, so I imagine we’ll be a jolt to his life. But he says he wants us.’
Madeline hugged her quickly, careful not to wake the baby. ‘I wish you and your boys the best, Lena.’
‘And I hope you will have a long and blissful marriage.’
Madeline watched her new friend walk away and then went to stand at the rail to watch the night pass for a bit before she went back inside.
The universe was amazingly vast. She could not hope to understand it.
But Lena’s advice? Yes, she understood that quite clearly.
Yeast was yeast no matter
how long it had been set to rise. Love and yeast were the same.
Gazing out at the countless, unending display of stars, she made her decision.
Her life would rise alongside Rees.
* * *
The hours passed almost without notice while Rees accompanied the mechanic and the Captain while they checked to make certain the furnaces, valves, tubes and engines had not been damaged.
It had been fascinating how everything worked. Frightening, too, seeing all that might have been damaged, the injuries that could have resulted.
There had to be something illegal about what the drunk had done. He would check with the police when they reached Liverpool in the morning.
But what time was it? His mind had been focused only on the soundness of his ship, so he had lost track of the hour.
Opening the door to his cabin, he wanted to curse in frustration at the hours he had lost with his wife.
The sound died on his tongue when he stepped inside and saw his bride asleep on the floor, her hair tumbled loose over her shoulders and one delicate hand tucked under her cheek.
A meal waited for him on the small table, but it had no doubt grown cold hours ago.
He crouched down beside her, smoothed a strand of hair away from her forehead. He did enjoy touching her hair.
She looked nearly recovered from her weakness. It was no trick of the lamp she had left burning for him that her cheek looked pink where it had been pale. Now that he looked closely, he thought she had already gained back a bit of the weight she’d lost.
He’d know for sure if she were not covered from neck to knee in a nightgown.
How thoughtful she was to take the floor and leave him the bed. From the first he’d thought her an angel walking the earth.
Even so, she could not imagine he would take the bed while she slept on the floor.
Crouching, he scooped her up in his arms, being careful not to wake her. The selfish side of his nature wanted her to rouse and kiss him, make him feel as though this was all going to come out right.
For a moment he held her close to his chest just to feel her breathe, to catch a whiff of her feminine scent.
Perhaps once they reached the Glenbrook town house she would share his bed, become his wife and forget the blamed annulment.
What devil had made him promise it anyway?
It might be possible for this to happen. First, he would need to confess his lie. She did believe in forgiveness. But then, she adamantly believed in truthfulness, too.
‘Perhaps it could be, my angel, unless you hate me.’
‘Why would I?’ Her voice was soft, dreamy sounding.
‘You’re awake.’
‘Halfway. Rees, I want you to have the bed.’
It was a fine idea—but a better invitation if one looked at it just so.
He laid her on the mattress. She hadn’t opened her eyes while she spoke and did not do it now.
When he lay down beside her a smile curved her lips.
The only way for them both to fit on the mattress was to lie on their sides. He folded one arm around her, scooped her to him spoon-like.
Before, when he had lain with her like this he had been as frightened as he’d ever been, thinking that each breath might be her last. Now she snuggled her warm behind against him and sighed.
‘No annulment, Rees. I want to stay with you.’ Her murmur stirred the hair near her lips.
‘Do you, my angel? I’m glad of it.’ Stunned, overjoyed more than that. But fearful, quaking, trembling scared. ‘We’ll speak more of it in the morning.’
He wasn’t sure if she heard him. Her lungs rose and fell under his hand in the slow regular rhythm of a dreamer. The strand of hair near her mouth shivered with each warm breath.
Yes, in the morning.
* * *
Madeline came awake slowly, feeling the need to stretch.
She was loath to do so because she was warm—nice and toasty, but not only that. Rees’s large, rough hand, resting on her shoulder, was tangled up in her hair, and she did not wish to dislodge it.
Blissful, that was how she felt. She had been content in her life, many times, but this was a far different gladness than any she had ever felt.
Beyond a doubt, she could be happy living the simple life with what society considered a commoner. Not that Rees Dalton was in any way common. No, he was exceptional.
Grandfather might not be pleased that she was married to a working man, but she was pleased and she was the one who was married, after all.
What difference did it make how large her home, or how elegant? While she adored pretty gowns with lace and flounces, she could be happy in something more serviceable. As long as she woke with Rees’s long limbs wrapped all around her, it did not matter what she was wearing or where she was wearing it.
She thought a humble life would suit very nicely. Having grown up with servants to attend her every need, she was grateful for the chance to learn to do things on her own.
How long could it really take to learn the art of cooking?
And motherhood? If she loved Rees, it only followed that she would love his children. Until most recently, she had not given children of her own a great deal of thought. Now that she had, she believed it would be the sweetest of sounds to hear two little voices calling her Mama.
Drat it, this bed was far too small for two people. As much as she regretted to do it, she needed to stretch the cramps out of her limbs.
She lifted her arms over her head. Rees’s hand slipped from her shoulder to her waist. She turned towards him, kissed his nose.
Good, he was deeply asleep as he ought to be. He worked far too hard, and now that she had something to say about it, he would get some rest.
How long before they made port? Noon, was it not?
That gave her a few hours to find Lena Brown. The young widow had been so kind. Madeline would like to say goodbye to her. Also, she needed to bid farewell to Mrs Adlebackmore and her family.
Of course, visiting new friends was not her only motive for going out. If no one was in the cabin to answer a knock and Rees was still asleep, they would leave him in peace.
Given the fact that he had been out all night in the service of the Edwina, he deserved to miss his morning shift.
She dressed quietly. Then, with her hand on the doorknob, she smiled at Rees and blew him a kiss. When he awoke rested, he would thank her for letting him sleep.
This business of being a wife was rather nice. She found she liked having a man to fuss over, a husband whose well-being was hers to see to.
* * *
Madeline enjoyed a pleasant hour with Clara and her mother. The visit with Lena Brown had been somewhat more hectic. How would one expect it to be otherwise with three small children to keep in order and all their belongings to gather up? Madeline helped for as long as she could, but if Rees awoke, he would wonder where she was.
Rushing past scores of people standing by the rail, she came to the cabin door. It was closed, so she paused by the rail to watch water rush past the hull.
For the first time in ten days she saw land. It was far off, but she could feel the excitement of her fellow travellers when they also spotted it.
Liverpool was still a distance away, but a thrum of anticipation hummed from person to person.
It pulsed within Madeline, as well. Her new life waited on those shores.
Not only did anticipation for her future make her spirits sing, but somewhere on those British Isles were Grandfather and Clementine.
She had missed them more than she could have guessed when she ran away.
Soon, though. If they had gone to London as she suspected they had, she would find them. She did not want to burden Rees with train fare to get there, but perhaps she could do something to earn a bit of money. He had promised to help
in the search, but if duty kept him in Liverpool, she was capable of going alone.
Her family was close, so close. She could feel it was so in each salty, fishy breath she took.
A large, firm hand settled on her shoulder. She knew whose it was without having to look, so she reached up and squeezed it.
‘I missed you when I woke up. Where did you go?’ His voice stirred her hair when he spoke. It tickled, made her smile.
‘To bid farewell to friends.’ It was a difficult thing to do. At least she would not have to say goodbye to Rees. ‘Do you know,’ she said, watching the city come ever closer, ‘as anxious as I am to find Grandfather, there is a part of me wishing the voyage lasted longer.’
‘I’d have thought you would dislike boats intensely.’
‘It hasn’t to do with the boat. It’s to do with you. Once we arrive in Liverpool, life will draw us here and there. As it is now, it has only been the two of us getting to know each other more deeply.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it, too.’ He leaned down to brush a kiss across her cheek. ‘We haven’t much time. Come, let us gather our things.’
Rees led her by the hand, going inside in a hurry.
‘Rees, we need to say something to each other. I want to do it before we leave the cabin.’
Indeed, she had told him she would not seek the annulment, but not why.
He closed the door, but kept her hand curled firmly in his. He brought it to his lips, gave it a lingering kiss.
Oddly, his gaze was sombre. Perhaps one of his fellows had been injured in the fire.
‘Are you well, Rees? Has something happened?’
He shook his head, smiled, but it was not with his usual playfulness.
‘I did say we would speak about something this morning. I just don’t know how to begin.’
‘If you are uncomfortable about saying it, I will speak first.’
He looked confused. How odd. The state of her heart was perfectly clear to her. She had thought the same was true of Rees, but maybe he found it difficult to express profound words.
‘What did you want to tell me, my angel?’