Alex sobered instantly at his grave expression and apprehensive mood. It seemed pointless to revoice her promises or to offer him comfort, so she remained silent and attentive. “Tell Charles to send me word of your safe arrival as soon as possible. I’ll not sleep a wink until then.”
“How can Papa send word to America during a war?” she reasoned.
“He’ll find some way. We both know many privateers who’ll carry messages for a tidy sum of gold. Just follow my words and be careful.”
Alex sighed heavily. “Please, Uncle Henry. My ears are crowded with dire warnings and advice.”
“Just hope you find no need for any of it,” he said under his breath, but she heard him.
Alex was briefly tempted to call off her return voyage just to calm his frayed nerves, but couldn’t force herself to be that selfless. She honestly didn’t know if it was the war, her father, or Stephen who was drawing her back to England…
When the dock was in sight, Henry quickly told her to put on her hat and to get ready to follow his every suggestion. She hurriedly complied, knowing her best interests would be served. The carriage halted and Henry jumped down to help her out. She held herself erect and silent as a man clad in dingy gray pants and shirt came forward to greet them. Alex wished for a scented kerchief when he was within smelling distance. His hair was scraggly and unkempt. His beard needed a good trim. Repulsed by his stench and filth, she almost changed her mind about this untimely trip.
“Ye be Cowling?” the rangy man asked, his age indeterminable.
“Yes, and this is my sister Maria Hathaway. As you can see, she’s in mourning for her recently departed husband and only son. I pray the crew will follow my request and leave her to herself as much as possible. It was a tragic accident and she’s not quite over the shock,” Henry quickly offered his ruse and an explanation for her heavy black veils and mourning gown of midnight black.
As a pair of the bluest and gentlest eyes focused on the slender woman whom they could not see, Alex’s heart was warmed by the sympathy which she could read through the lacy material which fell from the crown of her hat to her breasts. “I be sorry fur ye misfortunes, ma’am. We’ll see kindly to’er, sir. Capt’n Thackery be a strict man, but a fair un. He’ll allow no’um to bother ye sister. I’ll see to her meals meself.”
“Thank you; you’re most kind. Take this for your extra troubles,” Henry stated, handing the man a handful of gold coins.
A bony hand gripped the cold metal tightly and thanked him profusely. “Yessir. Ye sister be in good hands,” he vowed once more. “Come, ma’am; I’ll show ye to ye cabin. Old Pete’ll let no’um trouble ye whilst ye be under my care.”
Henry and Alex embraced affectionately and slowly parted. “Take care…sister. If you need anything, ask Pete.”
With Pete holding her left arm, Alex was assisted up the slanted wooden walk to the ship. Pete hurried before her to open the door which descended into the heart of the ship. Careful not to trip, Alex slowly moved down the steps into the passageway. Pete led her to a door and opened it. He placed her baggage inside and came back to tell her she could enter.
In a muffled tone to disguise the youthful quality of her voice, she softly thanked him and closed the door. She was immediately distressed to discover the first mate’s cabin door had no lock! Glancing around the small room, she quickly lifted the room’s only chair to place it securely under the doorknob, hoping to prevent anyone from coming inside. She sighed in relief, feeling a little bit safer. Yet, she fretted over how to protect her valuables when she left this cabin.
She walked to the bunk and sat down. Panic and dejection filled her. Perhaps she should disembark and forget this wild idea. But it was too late for that; Henry had probably left by now and the streets were deserted at this time of night. If she changed her mind by morning, she could always leave at dawn before the sailing…
Alex removed her shoes and paced the floor for hours, keenly aware of the loud singing and laughter coming from below her cabin. Why was she being so cowardly? Hadn’t she ranted about wanting adventure and suspense? Surely this voyage would provide both! With her uncle’s knowledge of her presence aboard and her disguise, she would be safe. Wouldn’t she?
As time snailishly passed, her thoughts went to Daniel Grey. She grinned impishly as she envisioned his reaction to the returned bracelet. No doubt that refusal added to her hasty departure would deflate his puffed-up self-esteem!
Alex walked to the solitary porthole and peered out. She thanked her lucky star this was only mid-June. Else, how could she tolerate the summer heat of this stuffy cabin for three weeks? She observed wispy elouds as they trailed their fluffy wings across the face of the full moon and watched stars twinkle and glimmer on the indigo backdrop. Her gaze followed the moon’s pathway across the water’s dark surface. A light breeze entered the round opening and played in her amber tresses. She inhaled the heady smell of the ocean which mingled with floral hints from the nearby shore. It was such a romantic setting. How she dreaded the loneliness of this impending voyage.
“Where are you, Stephen? Who are you? Will I ever see you again?” she softly repeated questions she had uttered countless times since that fateful day in April.
When the moon disappeared over the ship, she finally went to recline upon the bunk. She sighed in weariness, at least delighting in the clean linens.
As if drugged, Alex gradually aroused from her heavy slumber. Suddenly aware of the gentle rolling of the ship, she jumped up to peer out the porthole. Her eyes widened in disbelief. How long had she slept? They were already at sea! If she had any doubts about this voyage, it was definitely too late to change her mind now!
A light knock caught her attention. Just before heading to the door, she wisely recalled her concealing hat. She hurriedly retrieved it and put it on, arranging the veil to totally obscure her face. As quietly as possible, she moved the chair aside and opened the door. Pete was standing there, grinning amiably, carrying a tray of food.
“I let ye sleep, ma’am. I figured ye be tired after that late night. I heard ye pacing most the night. Not to fear; ye’ll have ye sealegs soon.”
“You heard me? How?” she softly asked, remembering to keep her voice even.
“Me bunk be under here and I got sens’tive ears,” he proudly boasted.
“I’ll settle down today, Pete. Thank you for your kindness,” she stated, saying more than she should.
Pete flashed his lopsided grin once more and brought her tray inside. “I’ll come back later to fetch it. If ye need fresh air or a walk on deck, I’ll take ye later. The men git kinda rowdy sometimes. Ye know what I mean?”
“I think I understand, Pete. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
He left, closing the door behind him. Alex studied the tray of food, wondering if she could consume any of it, deciding she would have to in order to keep up her health and strength. Summoning her courage, she nibbled at the nearly tasteless fare. When she could stomach no more, she placed the tray outside her door and secured it with the chair. She went to her baggage and unpacked a book to read. This was going to be a very long trip, for she was already bored on the first morning at sea!
Alex halted her reading when she heard noises outside her room. She relaxed as she realized it was only Pete getting her tray. It was nearly dark when that knock came to her door again. She politely greeted the short man with his genial smile and sunny disposition.
He chided her, “Ye didn’t eat much the last meal, ma’am. I know the victuals be poor, but ye must eat.”
“I wasn’t very hungry, Pete.” This time, she kept her comments to a minimum, knowing she was pressing her luck to strike up a casual friendship with this apparently lonely man.
“Losing loved ones be hard on a woman. But ye’ll find another husband and have more children,” he ventured.
Alex wondered at why he assumed she was young enough to have other children, but didn’t question this assumption. “Would ye like
to walk on the deck, ma’am?” he asked.
“Perhaps tomorrow evening, Pete. I’m still a little weak and tired from the journey.”
“Just let me know when I bring ye supper,” he replied before leaving her alone.
It was the third day before Alex decided she needed the stroll on deck before she would go mad from the silence and confinement. She asked Pete to wait until most of the crew was below eating, playing cards, drinking, or sleeping. It was around ten o’clock when Pete came to get her. Dressed in all black and her face obscured from all inquisitive eyes, Alex followed Pete up the steps and onto the deck.
She glanced around her. If Thackery was as strict as Pete had claimed, why were the decks so grimy and the ship so cluttered? “Are there any other females aboard, Pete?” she inquired in a low tone.
Flustered, Pete stammered before answering. “They be two females aboard, ma’am, but no other ladies,” he replied in a manner which clearly revealed her position.
“I see,” she murmured demurely. “I thought you told my…brother that Captain Thackery was a strict man. His ship certainly doesn’t prove it.”
Pete actually lowered his head in shame. “I know, ma’am. But if I’d told ye brother the truth, he’d have not let ye sailed with us. The Capt’n would’ve flogged me if he lost that fat purse of gold fur ye passage,” he anxiously confessed. “That’s why I be taking good care o’ye. Ye trust old Pete; he’ll let no harm come to ye.”
Alarm raced through her entire body. “Are this ship and crew safe?”
“If ye stay in ye cabin unless ye be with me, ye’ll be safe,” he answered candidly.
“I think I’m ready to return to my cabin, Pete,” she stated shakily.
Comprehending her panic, he smiled ruefully and said, “I’ll take care of ye, ma’am.”
In the cabin, Alex paced the floor for hours. She still had over two weeks to survive on this ship. After tonight, she would cautiously remain here even if she had to tear her hair from boredom and agitation.
Her guarded plans were thwarted that very next day. When a knock came to her door, she unthinkingly pulled it open without asking who was there, assuming it to be Pete. Through her veil, she observed the visage of a strange man who was clad in drab blue except for his time-yellowed cotton shirt. He sported a neatly trimmed beard and heavy mustache. His wiry hair teased at the collar of his faded blue jacket. His boots mutely begged for a good polishing. His washedout pants negligently declared several careless stains. Bushy brows which were a mixture of chestnut and gray perched over hooded eyes of chocolate brown. His cheeks were plump and rosy. For an outdoorsman, he noticeably lacked a natural tan or even a healthy color.
He spoke to her in a raspy voice. “Pete tells me you’ve been keeping to your cabin, Mistress Hathaway. Ain’t no need to be scared to go for walks on my deck. My crew’s been warned to be on their best manners. Wouldn’t do to go offending a proper lady or a wealthy man like Cowling. If you be needing anything, give Pete a message for me. Just wanted to make sure you ain’t ailing.”
“Pete’s been most kind and helpful, Captain Thackery. Under the circumstances, I wanted to be alone. But thank you for your courtesy,” she said as softly as possible, feeling compelled to be polite.
She could tell the offensive man was straining to catch her words and was somewhat too curious about her. His next words proved her recent suspicions, “Sad to think such a young woman has met such tragedy.”
“One can hardly call forty young, sir. But thank you for the compliment,” she replied, holding a kerchief to her lips to muffle her voice.
“Would you care to take a stroll on the deck with me? Might be nice to have some good talk for a change,” he boldly suggested, his eyes revealing his intense scrutiny as they struggled to pierce her heavy veil.
“Perhaps another day, sir. I’m reading a most fascinating book and I’m presently in a place which intrigues me,” she offered what she knew sounded like the flimsy excuse it was.
“But you need fresh air and sunshine, mistress. You can’t stay locked in here for weeks. Ain’t healthy for you,” he dashed her reasons.
Feeling cornered, she couldn’t decide what course to take. If she was too cordial, he would be inviting her to dinner next! However, she certainly didn’t want to offend him. Why had he mentioned being locked in? A figure of speech or keen insight?
“Perhaps you’re right, sir. I’ll join you shortly,” she acquiesced.
He nodded and pulled the door shut. Alex’s terrified gaze flickered around the small cabin. She cautioned herself against conversation, her agile movements, her graceful walk, exposing her unlined hands, and any other action which might betray her.
With the aid of a small mirror from her baggage, she checked her appearance. Thankfully the black gown was loose, obscuring at least part of her enticing figure. She pulled on black lace gloves and adjusted her hat and veil. She wisely refrained from applying any provocative perfume.
She opened the door to find Thackery leaning against the wall near her cabin. “I’m ready, sir.”
He grinned in a strange manner, then took her elbow to lead her down the hallway to the steps. He climbed up first, then held out his hand to assist her when she was within reaching distance. Even through the thin gloves, she could detect the clamminess of his palms. She wished he would release her trembling elbow and would move away from her. He did neither.
They headed toward the stern of his ship at a leisurely stroll, gradually covering the distance until they were heading for the bow on the starboard side. The ship was moving across a relatively calm sea, the sails billowing and swaying in a slight breeze. They had walked in complete silence until this point.
“Hope we keep up this nice weather. The sea can be mighty hateful when she takes a mind to,” he aimlessly began a conversation.
Alex simply nodded in agreement. “How long was you married?” he suddenly asked, cunningly forcing her to speak.
There was no way to politely avoid answering, so she softly replied, “Twenty-three years.”
“You only had the one son who was killed?” he continued his nosy line.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Too bad, seventeen is too young to die,” he muttered as if thinking aloud.
“Yes, it was,” she responded, unaware he was entrapping her with the false information supplied by Cowling.
He lightly clutched the damp rail as his gaze focused on the distant skyline of clear blue. In pensive thought, he pursed his large lips and rocked back and forth. Innocently thinking him to be giving her time for fresh air as he politely submitted to her annoying company, she relaxed against the rail a few feet from him.
As several dolphins began to leap and frolic to her right, she slightly turned in that direction to watch them. The sun was nearly touching the deep blue water; the blue horizon was peaceful and free of dark clouds. The dolphins played in carefree abandonment before a backdrop of subtle lavender, muted gold, and fiery pinks etched upon serene azure. There was so much beauty, tranquility, and exhilaration at sea at this time of day.
In spite of her alarm and tension, Alex relaxed and enjoyed her surroundings. So enchanted was she by this setting, she failed to realize she actually laughed in soft and silvery tones. A sudden updraft from the ocean below lifted the veil just enough to present the stunned Thackery with a view of tawny curls, sparkling emerald eyes, flawless skin, and exquisite, angelic beauty. As she gasped and clutched at the veil, he instantly looked the other way as if this impish trick of nature had gone unnoticed…
VIII
“How poor are they that have not patience!
What wound did ever heal but by degrees?”
—Othello, William Shakespeare
Alex fearfully glanced toward the captain, relieved to find him half-turned the other way. She promptly resolved to secure the veil to her dress with a brooch on future outings. It wouldn’t do for these crude men to see her face! With quivering hands, s
he held tightly to the veil to make sure it did not lift again.
As the dolphins moved further toward the stern of the ship, she followed their adventures. Facing the bow, Thackery was grinning lewdly. Absently rubbing his swollen manhood, he couldn’t turn around until he had his lust under control. So many delightful ideas raced through his eager mind and inflamed body. Now he knew why she was hiding behind that veil and in her cabin! One look at her and his men would go wild! How lucky could a man be than to have a living goddess on board his ship? A ship under his control and out of the reach of any authority but his!
“Ready, sir?” she inquired for the second time, startling him out of his lecherous reflections.
“Sure, Mistress Marie,” he replied, huskily using her first name with a tone she didn’t like at all, but wisely let the offense pass.
She wondered if every man was so carnally minded that any female enflamed their unruly lusts, even a proclaimed widow! Annoyed, she held her shoulders erect and stiff as she hurriedly crossed the deck to the doorway. She cautiously went down the steps to avoid tripping on the long gown. She mutely went to her cabin and opened the door. After a cool offer of gratitude, she closed the door before he could speak.
Without the slightest hesitation, Alex placed the chair under the knob. Unsettled, she paced the floor for hours before turning in for the night. Plagued by doubts and tense nerves, she slept very little. For the first time, she was acutely aware of the captain’s movements in the next cabin. Evidently he wasn’t sleeping well either! Why?
New qualms filled Alex when Pete offered to bring in a tub and water if she wished to bathe. She instinctively knew she should refuse this strange offer, but she didn’t. After three days of merely sponging off, a real bath sounded too tempting to sacrifice. While she sat patiently upon her bunk, Pete and a youthful boy hauled in a wooden tub and water. Placing a thick cloth beside the filled tub, Pete turned and smiled before walking out.
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