by Peggy Gaddis
Mrs. Burke leaned forward and glanced at Nora’s and at MacEwen’s empty chairs.
“But where is the girl, and that nice young man? Aren’t they coming to dinner?” she asked curiously.
Curt smiled at her. “Captain has invited them to dinner in his own quarters. There are some things he thinks Nora can shed some light on.”
“Well, I suppose that’s true,” Mrs. Burke admitted, and added, “And Mr. Russell? Was he in on all this ugly mess?”
“Oh, no, MacEwen first met Nora when they came aboard,” Curt answered, and his smile warmed faintly. “He seems to be determined to stand by her in any emergency that may develop.”
“Then he is in love with her. Isn’t that wonderful?” Mrs. Burke beamed happily and glanced across at Mrs. Hennessy. “I told you so, Amy. I’m rarely ever wrong about such things.”
Curt said briskly, “The formal inquiry tomorrow, as soon as we dock, will take care of all this. Have any of you been through the Canal? It’s quite an interesting experience.”
And he launched into a long and detailed account of what they would shortly experience. He had not once glanced at Claire since he had taken his place at the table, and his manner was cool, aloof, as though she were not there within the reach of his hand, the sound of his lowest whisper.
Gradually the table talk became general, and eventually the meal was over. As they rose from the table and congregated in small groups preparing for the nightly card games, Claire followed Curt out of the salon. In the corridor, as he was walking away from her, she called to him.
He turned back, glancing at her with a cool, detached look as though she had been someone he had never seen before.
“Yes, Miss Frazier?” he said with cold courtesy.
“Curt, please — I have to talk with you.”
“Of course, Miss Frazier.”
Claire searched his face, his cold, hostile eyes.
“If you aren’t too busy — ” Her voice stumbled.
“Why, how could I ever be too busy to entertain a feminine passenger, my dear Miss Frazier?” he mocked. “Remember me? I’m the line’s glamour boy, whose duty it is to entertain all the feminine passengers at any time. You said so yourself.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Curt,” she stammered. “That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“I didn’t think you’d left anything unsaid.”
Major Lesley emerged from the salon, gave them a startled glance and scurried like a small rabbit out of the corridor to the deck.
“Could we go out on the deck, Curt?” Claire pleaded.
“Why not? Tropic moonlight, flying fish, the phosphorescence on the water — all very romantic and part of the lines’ service to feminine passengers,” Curt drawled. And his tone made the words a derisive taunt as he bowed and motioned for her to precede him.
Out on the deck, Claire lifted her hot, shamed face gratefully to the fresh, salt-tangy wind and moved forward to the railing where, in the shadow of a lifeboat, she turned to look up at him.
“Curt, I’m sure you know what I want to say,” she began huskily.
“I’m afraid I haven’t the vaguest idea.”
“Oh, Curt, don’t be like that!” she wailed. “I’m so terribly sorry about everything I said. I didn’t mean it, Curt. What I did mean was what I said in the captain’s quarters last night, not what I said this morning. I do love you, Curt — I know it now.”
There was a small, taut silence in which she held her breath, waiting for him to take her into his arms, to forgive her, to make things right between them. Instead he leaned on the rail and looked out over the dark water, with the phosphorescent trail visible here and there as the sturdy old ship plodded her slow way along.
“I don’t think you do, Claire,” said Curt after what seemed to her an endless wait. “If you had loved me, you wouldn’t have jumped to the wrong conclusion when you thought you saw me leaving Mrs. Barclay’s room. You wouldn’t have hidden in your own room, placing the worst possible construction on what you saw. You would have taken it for granted that I had some logical, decent reason for being there. You might have offered to help, in case I needed your help. Instead you just skulked into your own cabin, and then this morning blasted me with every ugly thing you could think of to say. No, Claire, you’re not in love with me. Not the smallest, infinitesimal bit. You can’t be in love with someone without trusting him. And you showed me with insulting clarity just how little trust you had in me.”
There was so much truth in what he was saying that she could only shrink, as though the words had been physical blows, and feel her heart dying within her.
After a long moment she moistened her dry lips and managed words.
“You expect an awful lot, don’t you, Curt?”
He straightened and turned toward her; in the shadow of the lifeboat she could only guess at his expression.
“Why, yes, Claire, I suppose I do,” he agreed at last. “I’m not a callow kid, you know. A man doesn’t reach my age without learning a little something about women. As you so sweetly pointed out, aboard the Highland Queen part of my duty is entertaining the feminine passengers. A fellow learns quite a bit that way. I’d never been in love before; I’d rather side-stepped it. I was wary, suspicious if you like, but then you came along and I thought, I’ve found her at last — my girl! I was as sure you trusted me as I was that I trusted you. It didn’t occur to me for a moment that your love was such a cheap and flimsy thing that it would come apart the first moment any stress was placed on it.”
Claire winced beneath the scathing indictment, and then she realized that if ever she was going to put things right between them, she had to fight now, that minute.
“I trusted Rick Massey,” she said quietly.
She could feel the small start of surprise Curt gave as he looked down at her through the shadows.
“Rick Massey? Who’s he?” he asked curiously.
“The man whose jilting sent me off on this cruise,” Claire told him levelly. “We’d known each other for years. We had planned to be married as soon as he finished his year in residency; and then he eloped with a wealthy patient.”
Curt was silent for a moment that seemed to her all but endless.
“And so, because one man has proved himself faithless, you took it for granted every other man in the world was equally so,” he drawled at last.
“I’d known him for so long.” Her voice stumbled painfully. “I’d known you such a little while. Oh, Curt, can’t you understand?”
“Why, yes,” he said at last, and his tone held no warmth at all. “I think I can understand very well. You were on the rebound from him and I was available. That’s about it, isn’t it?”
There was a silence she found all but impossible to break, and after a moment he went on slowly, “As a matter of fact, Claire, it’s probably just as well that it’s come to this. It wouldn’t have worked, you know.”
“It wouldn’t?” she whispered.
“Of course not.” His tone was brusque. “You can see for yourself it could never have worked. Marriage for you and me, I mean. I couldn’t give up the sea — ”
“I wouldn’t ask you to.”
“Because,” he plowed on as though she hadn’t spoken, “it’s all I know of a way to make a living. It’s all I’ve ever really wanted to know. And you wouldn’t be happy living aboard ship.”
“Captain Rodolfson’s wife was.”
“She was very different,” Curt stated flatly. “She’d never had a career or been out on her own or put down roots ashore as you have.”
“It all boils down to the fact that you were mistaken in thinking you love me, is that it?”
He turned toward her in the shadows, his expression one she could not see.
“Why, no, it just means I was mistaken about you being in love with me,” he pointed out with brutal candor. “You said just a shipboard romance; I think that’s all it was with you. With me — well, with me
it was quite different. I felt I’d come into safe harbor after a very rough and stormy voyage. That was where I made my mistake.”
Claire drew a deep, hard breath.
“And you’d like to leave it at that?” she asked huskily.
“I don’t see what else we can do, do you?”
Claire set her teeth for a moment, and then she flung up her head and faced him in the shadows.
“Why, no, I don’t suppose there is anything else since you’re so stiff-necked and arrogant and so convinced that I’ve insulted you beyond any possibility of forgiveness,” she said harshly. “So all right. We’ll leave it at that. But it seems to me I’ve stripped my pride to ribbons and tied it up in a slovenly bundle and offered it to you, and that’s something I’ll never do again, you may be very sure! I did say nasty things to you this morning; I did jump to an ugly conclusion when I saw you last night at Vera’s door. I’ve asked your forgiveness. And you’ve been too stiff-necked to accept it. And that means that you aren’t really in love with me, either. If you were, you’d understand. And since you don’t want to-then by all means leave it at that!”
Curt made a gesture, and she drew back.
“Maybe you’re quite right, after all.” She spat the words at him furiously. “Maybe it was just a shipboard romance. Maybe I’m not in love with you; maybe it was just the rebound from Rick’s jilting. But whatever it was, I’ll forget you. I’ll get over you, don’t you ever doubt that. Why, in time, I’ll forget the color of your eyes, the sound of your voice, as I’m sure you’ll forget mine. And that’ll be just dandy, because that’s the way it’s got to be.”
She turned swiftly, evading his hand, ignoring his voice, and went running back across the deck to the corridor and along it to her own room.
Chapter Twenty
She had no idea how long she had huddled there, rocked by the anguish of knowing that she had lost Curt forever, when there was a sudden knock at her door. She sat very still, not quite daring to hope that Curt stood outside that door, that he had come to tell her that after all —
She managed to get the door open, and as she saw Nora and MacEwen there, her heart did a nose-dive, falling painfully down a long flight of steps, bruising itself on each step.
“Oh,” she managed huskily, unable to conceal the bitter disappointment that racked her, “it’s you.”
MacEwen asked politely, “You were expecting maybe Santa Claus?”
But Nora was saying eagerly, “Claire, would you like to go to a wedding? Right this very minute?”
“A wedding?” Claire repeated, bewildered.
“And don’t you try to talk her out of it,” MacEwen said belligerently. “It took me three hours to talk her into it.”
“The captain will marry us, Claire,” Nora went on eagerly. “He’s got the authority, since we are way outside the twelve-mile limit. And I wanted you to be with me. Will you, Claire?”
MacEwen was still belligerent, but obviously uneasy.
“Be a good guy, Claire,” he pleaded anxiously. “She’s got to have somebody that belongs to her to stand up for her when we dock tomorrow. And that’s going to be me!”
“Claire, you don’t think I’m being heartless, so soon after Mother — ” Nora’s voice broke and fell into silence, but her eyes filled out the plea her lips could not finish, and Claire took the girl warmly into her arms.
“It’s exactly what she would want for you, Nora, and I’m very happy for you both,” she said gently.
MacEwen beamed with relief.
“You had me scared for a minute there,” he admitted frankly. “Women are sort of funny people sometimes. I was afraid you’d try to talk her into waiting until she was sure, or some such fool thing.”
Nora looked up at him radiantly and slipped her hand into his.
“I couldn’t be any more sure if we waited a hundred years,” she told him joyously. “The only thing I hesitated about was — well, what may happen tomorrow.”
“Whatever happens, I’ll be right there with you. And anyway, nothing unpleasant is going to happen to you tomorrow,” MacEwen told her firmly and put his arm about her. “Well, come on, girls; let’s get moving. Mustn’t keep the captain waiting.”
Claire looked up at him and at the girl. They were so young, so completely vulnerable, so touching in their frank adoration of each other. And that was the way it should be, she told herself desolately, as they made their way to the captain’s quarters — two people so much in love that it would never occur to either of them to doubt the other, not for so much as a single instant.
As they stepped into the captain’s quarters, she saw Curt in frowning consultation with the captain. The next moment Curt looked up, saw her, and the frown was erased by a sternness that told her he had in no way changed his mind since they had stood together beside the rail and she had groveled for his forgiveness, which he had refused.
Captain Rodolfson smiled a warm greeting at them and at Claire and said, “I’m very glad you’re here, Miss Frazier. You and Curt can be witnesses. Are we ready?”
“All ready, sir,” said MacEwen happily. He took Nora’s hand in his and smiled down into her lifted face as they stood before the captain, who held his Bible in his hand, already open at the marriage service.
Listening to the mellow, stately phrases, with their awesome beauty, Claire felt the sting of tears in her eyes as she looked at these two young people, the girl who had gone through so much darkness and grief, but was now emerging into the warmth and tenderness of this man’s love that would guard and cherish her “as long as we both shall live.” She had heard the ceremony read in a number of places: small churches, once or twice in great cathedrals where there had been much pomp and ceremony, but never had the words crept into her heart as they did now.
When at last the captain said quietly, “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Claire had to set her teeth and blink very hard to control the tears as MacEwen took Nora into his arms with an ineffable tenderness and kissed her with a kiss that was a pledge and a promise.
Captain Rodolfson kissed the bride on the cheek. Nora laughed and offered her cheek to Curt, who smiled at her and followed the captain’s lead. Then the wizened little monkey of a cabin boy came in carrying a silver tray on which there were thin champagne glasses and a cooler holding a napkin-wrapped champagne bottle.
Nora gasped as the captain poured the champagne.
“Oh, a wedding aboard wouldn’t be legal without champagne,” Captain Rodolfson answered her small, startled gasp with a laugh. “I keep this on hand especially for such an occasion.”
“Which happens,” Curt contributed with a slight smile, “much more often than you might expect. This is about the fifth time, isn’t it, Captain?”
“Oh, the fifth since you’ve been aboard, my boy,” Captain Rodolfson said genially. “But I’ve lost count of how many times since I came aboard.”
There was a moment of gaiety while toasts were drunk, and then MacEwen held out his hand to the captain and said with a deep earnestness, “I don’t know how to thank you, Captain, or to tell you what this means to me.”
“To us,” Nora cut in, and MacEwen put his arm about her and drew her close.
“To us,” he repeated, and once more his tone made it a pledge.
Nora said uneasily, “I just hope that tomorrow and what happens won’t make you sorry — ”
“Nothing’s going to happen tomorrow, except that you and I are going to have a wonderful honeymoon aboard the Highland Queen, and then when it’s over, we’ll set up housekeeping. Anywhere you like — a castle in Spain or a two-room flat in Brooklyn. You’ll be the boss.”
Claire slipped from the cabin unnoticed and walked along the deck. She was glad for Nora that the girl need not stand alone before whatever questioning into the tangled affairs of her mother might await. MacEwen would stand sturdily beside her and ease whatever burdens might come.
She stood for a little while at the prow, looking dow
n at the wide, white wake the sturdy old ship was cutting through the dark tropic waters, then turned sharply, startled at the sound of a footstep behind her. The moonlight revealed Curt to her, and his face was no longer stern and angry.
“It was a very nice wedding, wasn’t it?” he offered awkwardly, as she turned her back on him and went back to contemplating the white wake.
“Aren’t all weddings?” she mocked over her shoulder, her tone brittle.
“Well, I suppose I wouldn’t know about that,” he admitted. “I’m glad it happened, though I was a little against it at first.”
“Were you? Because you think she may be arrested tomorrow — ”
“Of course not,” Curt said swiftly. “It was just that they had only known each other since they came aboard and I wondered if it would last.”
Claire turned and surveyed him coolly. His brown, handsome face was revealed clearly by the moonlight, but her own was in shadow.
“You’re a bit of a cynic about marriage, aren’t you?” she mocked him.
“Not a bit of it. It’s a wonderful institution and I’m all for it, for men who live ashore and can establish a home,” he protested. “I’ve been doing some thinking, Claire. If you’d rather live ashore — ”
“Why, what are you talking about?” Her tone now was openly derisive, though her heart had given a great jump and was pounding so hard she felt sure he must hear it.
“I’m talking about us, Claire — you and me,” said Curt, and his voice was husky with yearning. “I’ve been an awful fool, Claire, but I was trying to do what I thought was best for you. Living aboard a ship is no life for a girl like you.”
“Oh, is that so?” she snapped shakily. “Well, since it’s my life, don’t you think I should have something to say about where I live it?”
There was a taut silence, and she could see his startled, afraid-to-hope expression.