The Secret of Her Guardian Sailor: An Inspirational Historical Romance Novel

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by Chloe Carley


  “You will discover everything on Friday,” Benjamin repeated, a wry smile playing upon his lips.

  “It is live animals, isn’t it?”

  Benjamin laughed. “All you need to know is that your life will be at no risk.”

  “No tigers?”

  “No tigers.”

  “Had it not been for you, I might have been buried in India.” Noah took a sip from his flagon, the bitter taste of ale washing down his throat.

  “We would never have abandoned you, dear boy. Once you’re a part of my crew, you become family—you ought to know that by now.”

  “There are others who would have left me for dead.”

  The memory flashed in his mind sending a shiver of unease through his body. He pictured the sweltering forest with the metallic scent of blood lingering in the air. Every rustle of nearby bushes made him panic. In his recollections, he could still hear the scream of monkeys in the canopy overhead and the words he had repeated over and over again in a weak whisper, “Please, Lord, let me make it out of here alive.” Sitting at the pub table, he could almost feel the sticky sheen of sweat across his skin that had made the fabric of his shirt cling fast. Back then, the blood had soaked through his trousers and his body had trembled from the amount he had lost. Had it not been for Benjamin, he would have died out there in the forest. The tiger that had gored him would have come back and finished the job. He was almost certain of that.

  “I would not have left you even if you had died at the claws of that tiger. We do not leave a single crewmate behind, dead or alive.” He drank deep of his ale and sat back. “Undoubtedly, you cursed my name a time or two before the guides found you. I can imagine what you thought.”

  Noah smiled. “I would never curse your name, Benjamin… Well, not unless you’re really planning on shipping live animals to the Americas. Then, I might have a word or two to say.”

  “Friday.”

  “You really won’t tell me any more than that?”

  “I really will not.”

  “So, I’m supposed to just blindly agree?”

  Benjamin shrugged. “I expect trust from my crew.”

  “Right.”

  “You do not trust me?”

  Noah paused for a moment before answering. “I have no reason not to, I simply know of your previous endeavors. That is the only truth here that makes me uneasy.”

  “Everything is above board,” Benjamin promised. “It is the timing that is troublesome.”

  “The timing?”

  “As you can imagine, the task of smuggling something out of England and shipping it to America is a somewhat sensitive area of expertise at this present moment in time. I am not seeking to transport something illegal. Perspective and scrutiny are the enemy here—my task is entirely legitimate.”

  Noah frowned. “Then why the secrecy?”

  “The less my crew know before we sail, the better. Should anyone apprehend you prior to our departure there is nothing for you, or any of the others, to tell.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “I hoped you would.” Benjamin pushed his flagon towards Noah’s. “So, may I rely upon your services?”

  Noah sighed and pushed his own flagon forward, clinking it against Benjamin’s. “You may rely on me, Captain.”

  “Then, I look forward to seeing you in two days’ time.”

  “Dawn at the East Dock?”

  “You have not forgotten our ways, then?” Benjamin chuckled, nodding. “Dawn at the East Dock.”

  Noah drank the remainder of his ale and set the flagon back down on the stained table. “You will forgive me for not lingering awhile longer. If I am to join your crew, there are things I must attend to before we leave.”

  “Of course.”

  Noah stood to go. “It has been… illuminating, to see you again. I look forward to our next adventure.”

  “If you do not arrive at dawn, having agreed to my terms here and now, you know the consequences.” It was not a question.

  “I’ll be there, Benjamin. You may rely on me.”

  “Very well then.”

  Noah turned and strode out of the dingy shadows of the Red Lion, stepping back into the cool air of the docklands. A salty breeze tickled at the bare skin of his forearms where his sleeves were rolled up. He stopped for a moment and stared out at the ships bobbing on the choppy seas beyond the breakwaters of the dock.

  What have you got yourself into? he wondered, dipping his head and hurrying away from the cobbled wharfs. The cries of the traders had long since dwindled away to nothing, though a few oyster-sellers still wandered along to try and shift what remained of their wares. He could hear the boredom in their waning voices. Once they had finished and tossed the spoiled goods back into the water, he knew they’d end up in the Red Lion. If not that pub, then another of the six that spread across the docklands. Sailors were always in need of a flagon of good ale to wash away the taste of salt and sea.

  Noah, however, was left with a very different taste in his mouth; a sour unease that he’d have to try and wash away before Friday dawned. His meeting with Benjamin and the prospect of what he had agreed to was already proving difficult to swallow. The only trouble was, he couldn’t back out now even if he wanted to.

  Chapter Four

  Rachel sat close to the window in the dining room of the Adelphi Hotel, her gaze turned out towards the street beyond. Her breakfast lay cold on the plate, the eggs congealed. She had managed a few bites of buttery toast and a single forkful of thick, over-salted gammon, but her stomach churned with constant nausea. She had not slept since arriving the previous evening and now fatigue prompted her eyes to itch and her skin to crawl.

  The dining room itself was all but empty except for a few harried waiters with tired expressions on their faces. They had opened far earlier than usual solely for her benefit. Her father had already arranged for it. After all, she was to sail on the morning tide, which would take them out of Liverpool’s docks shortly after dawn. All the other guests were still sound asleep in their beds, much to Rachel’s envious chagrin.

  As if I could ever have eaten more than a morsel, she thought wearily. Still, she appreciated her father’s gesture. It showed he cared. How I wish I could be there already, across the ocean and by your side, Papa. It shall not be too long before we are reunited.

  In truth, she did not know how long the voyage was set to take, but she prayed it would be worth it when she finally arrived. Having been alone for so many years, she was looking forward to having family in close proximity again. On the journey from Bath, she had thought of little else. Despite her misgivings and her fears, she held on to Emily’s words of wisdom and urged her mind to think more favorably on the matter. Before long, she would start a new life in the New World. She could not change that fact, so she figured she might as well start to see the good in it. It was not easy, but she was making some progress.

  Rachel turned her attention back to the dining room as a figure entered. A wiry old woman shrouded in at least four shawls of varying fabrics and colors shuffled toward her, sharp eyes peering from beneath the lace lip of a simple white bonnet. She wore a matching white apron over a pale brown dress that dragged on the floor as she walked.

  “Miss Faulks?” she asked, her voice thin and oddly gruff.

  Rachel arched an eyebrow. “That is me.”

  “I thought it must be. A pleasure to meet you, miss. The name’s Henrietta Warren, but you can call me Nan—everyone does.” She flashed a toothless smile and stuck out a trembling hand. Rachel did not take it immediately. The woman’s accent was unfamiliar, but she sounded much like the other individuals who walked along the street outside. A Liverpudlian, or so it appeared.

  “My apologies, Henrietta, but you are?”

  “Your father arranged for me to come and meet you here before the ship sailed. I have to say, I’m mightily excited to be going on such an exciting journey—never been farther than Southport in all me life,” she expla
ined rapidly, half-tripping over her exotic-sounding words.

  “Southport?”

  “Oh, it’s only a short way up the coast from here, Miss Faulks. It ain’t far at all.” She waved a tremoring hand in the direction of the hotel exit, as though Southport were just outside the door. “My son is over there in America, you see, and I jumped at the opportunity to go and find out where he’s got to. Kill two birds with one stone, I figured. Get you there safe and get my son back at the same time. Don’t have anyone else in the world but him. Haven’t heard a word in months. Got to think of me as a shepherd, bringing me errant lamb back into the fold, so to speak.”

  Rachel tried hard not to stare in disbelief. Was this curious old lady supposed to be her chaperone? She did not have anything against the woman, but she could hardly believe that her father would send someone so obviously unsuitable. She had been anticipating a proper young lady of equal social standing, someone she might befriend on the long voyage. This ‘Nan’ was none of those things. Try as she might to smother her disappointment, she could not keep her eyes from prickling with sudden tears.

  “There, there, Miss Faulks, no need for tears,” Nan urged. “I’m sure I’ll find me boy safe and sound, though I thank you for your concern. Never had one of your sort show me any speck of kindness before. I reckon you’re different. I knew you were the moment I set eyes on you.”

  “It must be very difficult for all of the mothers and fathers waiting for news of their children. How can I not show sympathy in the face of such adversity?” Rachel replied, recovering quickly. “I very much hope that you do find him when we reach the shores of America.”

  “Don’t you speak so pretty!” Nan cried, clasping her wrinkled hands together. Despite the four shawls, she still shivered violently. It seemed to be a deep-rooted tremor that no amount of warmth could fix. “I’m awful glad to be joining you on your journey, Miss Faulks, I really am. In time, I hope we can become firm friends. I always did want a daughter of me own. Perhaps, you will be the closest thing this old girl will ever get to such a joy. I hope it may be so, deep down in me bones.”

  Rachel smiled awkwardly not knowing what to say. “As long as our mutual companionship may make the journey go all the faster, I shall be thrilled to be better acquainted with you.” The words sounded false to her as they echoed back, but she hoped Nan did not pick up on the insincerity. Indeed, Rachel did not mean to sound insincere at all, but she could not see herself befriending this strange old woman, let alone becoming a placeholder daughter for her.

  “You are too kind, Miss Faulks. Too kind.”

  “Is the carriage waiting?” Rachel wondered, hoping to change the subject. Her mother might be dead, but she did not need or want a replacement. Nobody could ever fill that aching void… nobody.

  “It is, Miss. Might I steal a roll, if you aren’t eating them? Waste not, want not.” She gestured towards a basket of freshly-baked bread rolls which remained untouched in the center of the table.

  “By all means… Nan.” The nickname stuck in Rachel’s throat. It did not feel natural to address someone in so casual a manner.

  “Too kind, too kind,” Nan muttered, as she filled her carpet bag full of bread rolls.

  “And the luggage has been loaded onto the carriage?” Rachel pressed, feeling a twinge of déjà vu.

  “It has, miss. Blimey, you have a lot of things, don’t you?”

  Rachel blushed. “I suppose so.”

  “I’ve just got this here bag and a little case full of necessities.”

  “You do not plan to take up permanent residence in the Americas, then?”

  “Goodness no!” she shrieked, descending into an alarming belly laugh. “I’ll be on me way back as soon as I find me boy. Is that what all the luggage is for? Does your father want you to stay?”

  “He does,” she replied, feeling less embarrassed about the number of items she was bringing along.

  “Shameful state of affairs,” Nan tutted. “Taking a young lady such as yourself and forcing you to live in that barbaric land? If you were my girl, I’d never allow it. I’d knock me husband sideways if he even suggested it. Not that I have a husband anymore—he died a few months ago. Me boy doesn’t know yet. It’ll be a shock to him when the news comes.”

  Rachel gulped, all good thoughts on her future dissipating. “It is not so barbaric. I have heard marvelous things, the current situation notwithstanding.”

  “Then you’ve heard wrong, miss.”

  “I suppose I shall find out once I arrive… and I am sorry for your loss, Nan. Please accept my sincerest condolences,” she said quietly, desperately wanting to retreat back to the safety of Bath and the townhouse she had known all her life. She did not want to be here anymore. She did not want to sail on the morning tide for foreign shores. She wanted to go home and stay there, indefinitely.

  “Ah, he wasn’t a very nice man, when all was said and done. I’ve shed enough tears for that vagabond over the years and then some. Now, me boy—there’s a rare good lad.” Nan sighed wistfully. “Anyway, enough about me. Are you ready to go then, miss?”

  Rachel nodded slowly. “I am.”

  “Come on then, Miss Faulks. No time like the present.”

  The old woman turned on her heel and scurried across the dining room, disappearing out into the grand foyer. Rachel took her time to follow. Forcing down another bite of cold toast, she retrieved her hat and cloak from the steward by the door and walked straight out into the bitter cold of the darkened street. She did not wish to linger in case she lost her nerve altogether. Indeed, she barely had a chance to admire the chandelier that sparkled in the center of the entrance hall and the grandeur of the remarkable building.

  A driver waited with the carriage—a younger, more patient man than the one who had brought them to Liverpool. He helped Rachel up into the shaded interior before assisting Nan. Once inside, the old lady marveled at the rich upholstery, running her liver-spotted hands across the velveteen fabrics. Rachel could not help but smile at the small pleasures that seemed to excite Nan. In truth, she almost felt envious that one person could be so easily distracted. She wished she had the same ability.

  After a few minutes, Rachel felt the carriage rock slightly as the driver clambered up onto the box. A snap of reins ricocheted through the air a moment later. Sitting back against the plush banquette, she tried to relax as the carriage pulled away from the front steps of the Adelphi and made its slow journey through the sleepy city towards the already bustling docklands.

  The sound of sailors chatter rushed through the windows and into her ears. She had not expected to see so many people up and about so early in the morning. It was quite a jolt to the system to witness this strange pre-dawn otherworld. Being a creature of luxury, it was rare that she awoke before ten o’clock in the morning. Indeed, her body was not quite sure what was happening. Her limbs felt sluggish, her eyes tired, her skin somewhat uncomfortable.

  “Reminds me of me younger days, when I were a little scrap of a girl,” Nan mused with a gravelly chuckle. “Used to come down here and try me luck with the traders; see how cheap I could get a couple of whitebait. Sometimes if we hadn’t a coin to rub together, I’d snatch them straight from the carts when folks weren’t looking. Never got caught.” She seemed proud of the achievement, so Rachel offered a congratulatory smile.

  Truthfully, Rachel could not even begin to imagine such a childhood, when her own had been filled with everything she could possibly want. Every luxury had been awarded to her and her brother. As she had since discovered, it had put the Faulks family into even further debt, but it had seemed idyllic back then. The innocence and obliviousness of youth.

  Tugging the curtain aside, she took the opportunity to properly glance out at the docklands. Furtive shadows moved alongside the carriage while the thud of boots on wood pounded out a soft percussion like war drums in the distance. In the flicker of torchlight, she could make out the wharves and docks which held impressive ships and
smaller fishing boats, but much of the dockland remained in darkness. How they were moving around so effortlessly was beyond Rachel’s comprehension, for she felt quite blind without the sun’s guidance lighting the way.

  An unpleasant scent wafted in – rotting seaweed and festering fish – which prompted her to close the window once more and sit back against the velvet banquette. She did not like it here. And yet, surely this was better than the ship she would soon reside on? Her heart thundered in her chest as she contemplated the prospect.

 

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