The Emerald Tartan

by Patricia McGrew

  “At any rate, we entered the restaurant and the maître d’ escorted us

  to a private room. Can you imagine my surprise when the doors opened, the entire crew was already inside the room? They were clapping their hands at our entrance! I was confused and for once in my life, at a loss for words. I did not see how Daniel and Abigail could possibly have made certain the entire crew bathed and dressed in fresh uniforms for this party – and they got to Clifton House before we did. While our crew was made up of loyal men, most of whom had been with the Captain for years, it was still very difficult to get an entire crew bathed, in clean uniforms, and not drunk to join together in one place when they have their leave time from the ship.

  “At the end of the meal, Daniel arose from his chair to give a toast in honor of my approaching birthday. He also announced that effective with the change of the next tide as we prepared to return to London, he was officially retired as the captain of the ship – and I, Ian Welby, was to be the new Captain! He would continue to run the business operations including locating the goods to be shipped and making the arrangements. However, upon their return to England, he and Abigail would fully retire to their home by the sea near Dover. The shipping business would officially be renamed “Moreland & Welby”, and I would be in complete charge of any and all activities pertaining to the shipping business from that day forward.

  And so it went until about two years ago, when both Daniel and Abigail became seriously ill with the flux. Daniel had been in failing health, and as hard as he tried, he simply could not overcome the it. After about a week of suffering, he died. Abigail recovered and still lives in their home in Dover. Daniel named me as his sole heir to the shipping business, with Abigail to receive their home and twenty-five percent of the profits until her death. She lives a very comfortable life in Dover.

  “Abigail could never be a withering violet. After Daniel’s passing, she worked with me in every aspect of developing the business even more. We both agreed we should sell the Whisper and purchase one of the newer clipper ships so we could make more trips between England and the Pacific Ocean more quickly. Abigail christened the ship, the Emerald Tartan, two years ago. I then told her my true identity, but I requested and she agreed, to maintain my secret until I was ready to deal with it.

  “All this brings me to the present day. Through Abigail’s connections, I met the good Queen Victoria, and it was she who asked me to deliver the crown for Queen Emma. Upon completion of this duty, I will look for a new shipment to take back to England via San Francisco.”

  Lydia sat on the edge of the bunk, completely dazed.

  “Ian, I had no idea. When I asked you to share some of your life with me, I certainly never expected a story like that. Have you ever returned to Scotland?”

  “Nay. Although, it is my plan upon my return to England from this voyage, I will finally search out my family and find out what happened to Annie, and Belinda too. Hopefully, and she is married now in settled into a new life away from Percy and Winston. But I have no way of knowing anything at this point.”

  The scowl on Ian’s face told Lydia more than she wanted to know. He was lost in thought, probably considering the fate of his dear Annie. Lydia considered her own life, and realized that behind the casual façade of every person, there was a story of troubles and heartaches much like Ian’s or hers.

  CHAPTER 20

  June 18, 1856

  The last couple of days passed quickly for Lydia. Ian turned the mutineers over to the local authorities, what remained of the crew unloaded the cargo, and Ian hired new crew members to assist with the sail to San Francisco. The surprise presentation of the crown to Queen Emma would take place tomorrow night at the ball for King Liholiho and Queen Emma to celebrate their wedding. A veil, sent earlier to Emma Rooke, soon to be Queen Emma, was another gift from Queen Victoria.

  With a little luck and fair weather, Lydia would be in San Francisco very soon. As soon as Ian attended the ball, she hoped they would be able to set sail for San Francisco promptly. Her brief reverie halted when she heard a quick knock on the cabin door. Ian charged into the room as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Och. We’ve not much time left to get you to the dressmakers. Your appointment with Madame Hippelwhite is in thirty-five minutes. We need to hurry.”

  “I have no need for a dress, Ian. And more to the point, I have no money.”

  “Perhaps I did not tell you, lass; I am to be your escort at the ball tomorrow night. It would be wrong to leave you here on the ship alone. The bulk of the crew will be on a brief shore leave, with the exception of my three most trusted crew and Dr. Miller, who will stay behind to protect the ship. Besides, I think you will enjoy the opportunity to see a little bit of Honolulu. It’ll be my pleasure to introduce you to Queen Emma and King Liholiho.”

  Emotions welled up inside her like a volcano about to erupt. At first excitement corkscrewed through her. The prospect of attending the ball in honor of the King and Queen of Hawaii would be an event Lydia had never dreamed possible for herself. Nevertheless, not far behind the excitement, fear swirled around her stomach. The fear of the unknown and the competing desire to make Ian proud, nudged her stomach to the edge of revolt. No experience with dancing (an evil opportunity for men to touch women, said her father) and having no idea about appropriate etiquette almost shut her down. But then, she rationalized, she would never have the opportunity to meet a King and Queen again.

  “Ian, I am not familiar with the etiquette here in the Islands. I … I …” She fidgeted with her rope belt.

  “If you are nervous or afraid, that is all right. I was skittish the first time I met Queen Victoria. Even the Morelands had no background to prepare me for such an introduction, but I had been summoned by the Queen. So I watched what the other people did and copied their behavior. You will be fine. Besides, you will be there with me. I will help you if you need any assistance.”

  Little by little all of Lydia’s resistance melted away. Ian made her feel more secure.

  “You are right. If I have learned anything on this trip, I have found I can take care of myself. Oh my goodness,” she squeaked, “I’m going to meet a real King and Queen!”

  In a whirlwind of activity, she tidied herself as best she could and was ready for the trip ashore when Ian returned to her room five minutes later. The quick trip to the dressmaker’s shop left her in awe. There were six women waiting to refit and sew her dress. According to the dressmaker, it would be ready for a final fitting and pick up in three hours. Fortunately for Lydia, a woman just about the size of Lydia had to cancel her order for the ball gown, which had already been partially completed, due to her husband’s reassignment to San Francisco for the Pacific Mail Steamship Company three weeks earlier.

  Time flew and before Lydia had much opportunity to observe and lush, beautiful city of Honolulu, she found herself back at the dressmaker’s shop. The women there had sized, sewn and embroidered an off-the-shoulder formal gown of emerald green silk, several layers of petticoats, a mixture of both cotton and silk undergarments, and a small handbag and a fan. As soon as she arrived back at the ship, she hung the dress from a small hook on the side of Ian’s armoire so she could admire the fabric and design. She had never owned such a bold and extravagant gown in her life. Just the feel of the soft coolness of the fabric between her hands sent shivers of giddiness up and down her neck.

  Lydia remembered she had no shoes or stockings to wear except an old pair of boots Ian had bought from one of the crew members. The boots were a little large on her, but if she wore two pair of Ian’s socks, at least her feet did not slide around too much. Ian had already given her so much, she dared not mention it. At least the boots would be covered by the length of the gown. She might even consider going barefoot as she had seen a number of the local women doing.

  The next morning blue skies graced the island, and the gentle island breezes tempered the heat of the day. By early afternoon, Lydia began her preparation to
dress for the ball, beginning with a hot bath in Ian’s tub and the opportunity to wash and rinse her hair thoroughly. As much as she had wanted to wait until early evening to begin her preparations, she realized her hair would need several hours to dry.

  She allowed herself to languish for a bit in the Ian’s wooden tub when the guilt of her current position in life began to niggle at her conscience once again. She had gone out and done exactly what her father had warned her about … she had physically taken up with a man without the benefits of marriage. Her conscience rose up like a ghost and in the voice of her father said to her: You are a fallen woman. You have no one but yourself to blame but yourself!

  As much as she wanted Ian and thought about little else but him and her feelings for him, she knew society would label her an easy, fallen, impure woman as soon as she stepped out in public with him. Tonight would seal her fate. Yet, the fact remained … Lydia wanted Ian in her life, not just physically, but … as her partner for the rest of her life. The implications of the thought made Lydia feel sick to her stomach. There was no way Ian could ever love her, at least according to her father, let alone marry her. She allowed herself to be not only easy, but she threw herself at him. She was frozen with indecision … and about what she was not even sure. All Lydia understood then was that she felt miserable about the choices she had made. She now found herself without the possibility of a job, on a ship with a man she barely knew, and with whom she had fallen in love. She had willingly lost her innocence without benefit of marriage, and she was about to enter socially into a strange culture half way around the world from all with which she was familiar. She had not a penny to her name, her mother never knew what had happened to her when the wave washed her overboard, nor did she know how her mother was or if she even survived the trip to San Francisco. The tears were about the gush from her eyes, when the little voice in the back of her head told her to quit focusing on things she could not change, and to act upon those things she could change. She pushed back the tears and reluctantly prepared for the evening.

  ***

  The hot sun of the afternoon slowly lowered itself to the horizon and the full moon of the evening rose overhead in all its majesty. Lydia took great pains to prepare her hair and dressed. Just as she adjusted the last brunette curl along the side of her face, a gentle knock sounded at the cabin door. “If that is you, Ian, please come in.”

  Ian, who had bathed and dressed in the first mate’s cabin, stepped into the cabin and stopped in his tracks.

  “My God, woman, you’re a beautiful sight to behold! I never imagined you quite like this!” He bowed gracefully and began to extend his hand as though to escort her to the ball, when he stopped and brought his other arm out from behind his back. In his hand, he held a dainty, elegant pair of green satin slippers and stockings for Lydia.

  “When I saw the dress hanging from the armoire last night, I realized you had no shoes for the ball. Fortunately, Madame Hippelwhite had already prepared some shoes for the woman who ordered the gown, so I got those for you, too. Sorry I forgot to let you know.”

  Lydia smiled for the first time that day. “Oh, Ian. They are beautiful and they match my gown so well. Thank you.” She pecked him on the cheek and quickly took off the boots she had ultimately decided upon. Her foot slid into the soft slippers. They were just a little tight for her, but she knew she would not take them off. They were perfect for the evening ahead.

  This time when he extended his arm to escort her to the ball, she happily locked her arm through his as they approached the gang plank to a waiting carriage.

  He continued to look Lydia over from head to toe. At last, he managed to say, “I have always thought you to be a beautiful woman, … but seeing you in this … ah … I mean to say is that … ah. I think I should just say you are a beautiful woman no matter what you wear. I am making an idiot of myself. Think I’ll be quiet now!”

  Ian could feel his face turning red, and the other parts of his anatomy began to tingle.

  Smiling demurely, Lydia nodded her head and with a whoosh of her emerald green silk gown, she stepped up into the waiting carriage, feeling like a high born lady.

  CHAPTER 21

  On the dock beside the Emerald Tartan, a bald-headed man with a huge hooked nose, like an eagle, waited for the Captain and his guest. He snapped to attention as Lydia worked her way down to the dock, taking great care with her dress and slippers. Interesting, he thought, such a lovely young woman, apparently unmarried because she had no ring on her finger, and yet unchaperoned by another female. He took careful note of the Captain standing beside Lydia. No, there was nothing in the Captain’s demeanor that would lead him to believe they were married or even engaged. So much the better, as he began to think about how he could turn the evening’s paltry pay as a hired carriage driver into a handsome and profitable evening venture.

  ***

  The Captain and young woman approached the carriage, as he stood at attention and smiled. “Good evening Captain McLeod and Mrs. McLeod. I hope you enjoy the events this evening. It’s a fine evening to attend the ball for Queen Emma and King Kamehameha.”

  Lydia smiled back warmly and greeted the man with a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. “Oh yes! Isn’t it wonderful? But please, my name is Miss Holcomb. It is nice to meet you.”

  Ian grumbled and whispered to her about talking with the “hired help” as he lifted her into the carriage.

  “Really? I was just trying to be nice. He was so friendly. People seem to be much more open and welcoming here in Hawaii compared to England. Is it really that wrong to be polite?”

  “Politeness can be mistaken for looseness in a lady. A lady simply does not speak with the rabble.”

  She took a deep breath. “I know I have a lot to learn about the world. My background has left me ignorant about the reality of dealing with people, particularly men.

  “On the other hand, I am hardly a ‘lady’, Ian. I have no title as such, and I am nothing more than the daughter of a poor church cleric. Besides, by not talking with him, it would appear I have already made a decision, because he may be poor, he is not a nice man. For all you and I know, he may be a regular church-going man with a family. There is nothing wrong with me granting him some dignity and civility by speaking kindly and politely to him, is there?”

  Ian shook his head. “Never mind. Just remember what I said about speaking with people to whom you’ve not been introduced and stay close to me. This can be a rough town. Lots of sailors here from countries all around the world, and they do not have the same view of life you have. They are not as good-hearted as you seem to believe.”

  The carriage driver pulled away with a start and both Ian and Lydia fell back against the seat as the driver loosened the reins to move the horse toward Hale Ali’i.

  “My first ball,” Lydia said aloud. She had been taught proper manners as a young woman, but because she had never truly talked with the opposite sex with the exception of her father, let alone attended a ball, she felt the butterflies in her stomach.

  She reviewed all the “shoulds” and “should nots” she could think of. Then there was that business with the use of the fan that one of the seamstresses had made to match her gown. Now what were those rules?

  When a fan is carried in the left hand, it means I want to meet someone. On the other hand, if the fan is carried in the right hand it means the other person is too willing, or something like that. Yet, if I hold the fan in my right hand in front of my face it means, “follow me”. Or, was that the left hand in front of my face? Surely there is some way for me to simply carry my fan without it having some meaning!

  There was so much for Lydia to think about. She felt overwhelmed. Finally, she came to the conclusion the best thing to do was to simply be herself. If she broke some social rules she did not know about, then so be it. She knew enough to bow to the Queen and the King and basic good manners. That would have to do. Right now she felt so confused all the rules for her new life. Sh
e shivered with anticipation of the ball, in spite of the heat.

  The carriage maneuvered its way through the narrow streets filled with people of every imaginable description, size and appearance. Sailors stood by stacks of cargo, waiting to load or unload it along the way. Large men wearing trousers that clung to their ankles carried large bales of cotton and other cargo she could not identify. A few ships appeared to be from the navies of different countries. Some uniforms she recognized, such as Her Majesty’s Royal Navy, but others were very different. Sometimes it appeared only the officers wore uniforms, while the sailors wore whatever clothing they had.

  The fragrances were exotic. A few Hawaiian women wore beautiful leis with with flowers that had yellow centers; Mr. Rodrigues called them plumeria. It was such a wonderful sweet aroma she wanted the carriage stop and allow her to inhale so she could never forget the fragrance. Ian pointed out another woman who wore a lei made of small white flowers. Lydia could smell it before they even reached the area where the woman walked. Ian said it was a pikake lei. If only she knew how to make these flowers into perfumes, she could be a rich woman in England.

  She noted dim kerosene lanterns hung outside what appeared to be disreputable establishments along the way. The aromas of stale tobacco, alcohol, urine, and body odor filled the air. Occasionally, some exotic fragrance wafted through the air. Some of the men dressed in what appeared to be silk pajamas, while others wore robes and their heads were completely wrapped in scarves or turbans, and others wore woolen uniforms in spite of the humidity and heat. Regardless of their dress, the men all stopped to stare at Lydia and the Captain while the carriage worked its way around the multitudes of people.

  “There appears to be a lot of poverty in Hawaii,” noted Lydia.

  “Yes, and because of it, you should remember the pier and dock area is usually populated with “hangers-on” and those without jobs, hoping for a quick chance to earn easy money.”