Splendor
Page 39
“Thank you, Bobby. This,” she said, gesturing to Mrs. Dunley, “is Mrs. Dunley. Nanna, meet Bobby, our cabin boy. He will provide us with anything we may need and help you in any way he can.”
“Right now all I need is to get to those trunks before our clothes get so wrinkled that I spend the entire voyage pressing them.” She shuffled off into the cabin, her gray head bobbing in perfect rhythm with her short, round body.
Kathleen entered her cabin and glanced around. Everything was as she remembered it. She had always occupied this room when she sailed the Kat-Ann with her father. It was smaller than the captain’s, but larger than the quartermaster’s. Definitely, it was not your usual, Spartan cabin. Her trunk sat at the foot of the bunk against the wall which divided her room from the captain’s. On the other side of the connecting doorway was a curtained corner with a chamber pot. Along the passageway bulkhead was an anchored washstand with pitcher and bowl. A few towels and washcloths were neatly stacked on shelves below it and there were cupboards above it for storage. To the right of the passageway door stood a roomy oak wardrobe lined with cedar. Near this was an enormous highboy and a low dressing table with hinged mirror. Below the porthole was Kathleen’s writing desk. Along each wall lamps were mounted, and a small table was bolted to the floor in the center of the room, circled by four chairs. In the far corner stood a small stove, an orderly stack of cordwood next to it. A rocking chair sat in front of the stove on a colorful little rag rug.
The room had been redesigned by Kathleen for her own comfort. The bunk was extra wide, with a comfortable mattress. Turned down over a blue coverlet was the eiderdown quilt Kathleen’s mother had made for her. Curtains to match the coverlet hung over the porthole. Because the cabin was used by other passengers when she wasn’t sailing, only two of the desk and dresser drawers could be opened without the key that only Kathleen carried.
Now Kathleen unlocked the drawers and her trunk. She shoved her reticule with her money into a desk drawer along with her jewel case and relocked the drawer. She hung the key on a ribbon about her neck, and tucked it between her breasts. Closing her door, she hurried back on deck.
The frigate had already raised anchor and was heading out of the bay. The wind-filled sails reminded Kathleen of huge clouds. Men were scurrying about setting sails and performing other necessary tasks.
“I feel so useless just standing here,” she mused, allowing herself a moment of self-pity. “I should be up there on the bridge with my hands at the wheel.” Automatically she raised her eyes to the upper sterncastle.
He was standing there, feet planted firmly apart, hands on the wheel, his head thrown back surveying the sails. As if her look was a physical touch, he lowered his head and saw her standing below him at the rail. Blue eyes caught emerald in a long, curious gaze until she turned away to watch Ireland’s coastline grow smaller in the distance, finally fading away altogether. Now, in every direction, all to be seen was the deep blue of the sea melting into the lighter azure of sky.
Reed stood on the bridge and watched Kathleen. Somehow, with just a glance, this girl had the power to unnerve him. Her tall, lithe frame, her emerald eyes, the upturned nose. Or was it her stubborn chin; the tilt of her head, or the way she unconsciously squared her shoulders? Something about her disturbed him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was positive he didn’t like the feeling.
“Lady Haley; Kathleen is what Kirby had called her,” he mused. “Probably nothing more than a beautiful spoiled brat used to having men fall at her feet and beg for her favors. Well, Lady, here is one man who won’t. What a jolt it will be for you to find your title doesn’t mean a thing in Savannah!” Still, he had to admit she was a beauty. “A raving beauty!” Her red-gold hair was glistening in the sunlight and the wind was catching loose tendrils from her coiffure. He wondered how long it was when unbound and flowing down her back.
“And a beautiful ivory back it would be, too.” He drew himself up short, scolding himself for letting his mind wander off on such a ridiculous tangent. “Besides,” he told himself, “she has brought good old faithful Nanna to keep the wolves at bay.” With a terse laugh, he turned the wheel over to the quartermaster and headed for the hold.