The Lady's Blessing

by Liz Botts

  Graham laughed. “Indeed she is. And one not afraid to speak said mind.” He paused and his features grew serious. “And what of you, my lady?”

  “Pardon, sir?”

  “Are you a lady with a mind of her own?”

  I licked my lips, which suddenly felt impossibly dry. “I like to think so, my lord.”

  “Then tell me what you think of my recent behavior.”

  We both knew exactly what he was referring to, but I chose to feign ignorance. I opened my eyes wide and shrugged. “Rather than hurt you, sir, I shall plead silence.”

  The rumble of laughter that erupted from Graham’s chest was drowned out by a loud clap of thunder overhead. Lightning flashed suddenly outside the windows, and the ship lurched terribly to one side. I nearly fell out of my chair. A moment later the ship pitched to the other side, and another crack of thunder ricocheted through the cabin. My stomach heaved, and I felt icy fingers of fear creep up my back. Father had told me and James innumerable stories about storms at sea. Thus far in our voyage, we had been blessed with mild weather. The only storms, per se, had ended almost before they had begun. A storm could swamp a ship in a matter of minutes, if I remembered Father’s tales correctly.

  Graham leapt up from his desk, and the chair fell over behind him as the ship rocked again. We careened back and forth. Graham made his way across the room to me. Gripping me firmly about my arms, he helped me stand and then maneuvered me over to the bed.

  “Stay here,” he said, tucking me down between the bed and the wall. “I will be back as soon as I can.”

  I crouched in the narrow space, my heart hammering. Graham crossed the cabin, but when he tried to open the door it stuck fast. He used his shoulder to try to leverage it open, but that failed as well. Somewhat defeated, he made his way back to me. He dropped to the floor with a sigh.

  “The door is jammed. I think something must be blocking it. Looks as if we will have to ride out the storm here. The men know what to do. Hopefully Mrs. Saunders has stayed inside her room.”

  I nodded, though inside I felt another crush of fear as I thought of my guardian. I doubted she’d go out in such weather, but still… I pushed the thoughts from my mind. Graham and I lapsed into silence. We listened to the pounding of the rain on the windows, the grumbling of thunder, and the sloshing of the waves as they washed up on the deck. Over the din of the storm, we could hear the men’s voices as they yelled to one another.

  “I have never seen such a storm,” I said finally. “Though Father used to tell tales of such events, as he called them.”

  Graham laughed, a rough sound. “He is right that it is an event. We are getting a good wallop, to be sure. I have been at sea for many storms, but I never get used to them.”

  I shivered. “I will be glad to get to port and to dry land.”

  Graham pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around my shoulders. His hand grazed my bare arm. The contact felt so intimate that I had to look away. Another swell pitched me forward so that I nearly landed in Graham’s lap. He steadied me.

  “You seemed to like the voyage,” he said.

  “Certainly. It has been exciting, to say the least. I have never had such an adventure. This might be a tad too much adventure for me, though.”

  Graham chuckled again. “I suppose one does get used to it after a while.”

  “So what do you like about being at sea?” I focused on each word in hopes that the distraction of speaking would quell the churning in my stomach.

  “Everything.” Graham stretched out his legs. The space between the bed and the wall was so small that I was acutely aware of his presence. “The freedom, the uncertainty, the smell of the air.”

  “When you put it that way, it sounds exciting, but I still prefer the feeling of solid land under my feet. Though I am glad to live out some of Father’s tales. I doubt he would believe my very own pirate tale.” I laughed, mostly to myself, at the thought of telling Father my story. My amusement faded as I wondered if I would ever see Father or James again.

  Graham seemed to sense my falling mood. “Once the storm is over, you must put all your seaworthy tales down in a letter for your father. You can send it on the next ship, which I am sure will be leaving soon enough.”

  I bit back a sigh. How could I explain to Graham my fears that my family had vanished into the thick fog of memory? Writing to Father would affirm his existence, of which I was no longer sure I believed. The only truth I knew to be certain was the swaying of the ship, the erratic beating of my heart, and the blaze of heat I felt when I was near a certain nobleman.

  “Perhaps.” A noncommittal answer, to be sure, and one that I saw instantly did not satisfy Graham. The corners of his mouth tugged downward into a frown. I supposed my gloominess had begun to show through, but I felt entitled to at least some of my misery. The trauma I had suffered set me in a different league, quite apart from the privileged young ladies I would meet soon enough. “Are you a part of the society gatherings Mrs. Saunders speaks so highly of?”

  The frown disappeared, and Graham’s lips twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “She speaks highly of the London social scene, does she? Women always do.”

  Discomfort settled over me. I had no desire to be part of any of the society that Mrs. Saunders waxed lyrical about: the parties, the dresses, the flirtations. All in hopes of catching oneself a husband. The way she described it sounded an awful lot like fishing, though much more complicated than a line and hook. Graham’s tone held a hint of mirth, but mostly warmth, and I wondered if he might be remembering a certain woman of his acquaintance that enjoyed the Season. Hot, bitter jealousy scalded my veins.

  With a shake of his head, he said, “I was once, but no longer. Now I have other responsibilities that preclude me from frivolity.”

  I nodded as if I understood completely. The Season remained a mystery to me, no matter how many times Mrs. Saunders described the goings-on. And though Mama had told me of her own days as part of the nobility, much had changed since her own time. The more Mrs. Saunders imagined me in the fashions from her magazine, the more I wanted to jump ship and swim home. As if meeting my grandparents wasn’t frightening enough, having to contend with such a foreign environment inspired fresh waves of terror.

  “I suppose I will be part of the frivolity soon,” I said with a sigh. The ship pitched sharply and I stifled a scream. My stomach heaved as we bounced hard. I was so focused on my fear that I barely noticed when Graham put his arms around me and slid so close I could hear his breath in my ear.

  “That’s better,” he murmured.

  We sat in silence as the storm raged outside. Through the small round windows we could see brilliant flashes of lightning. Despite my initial shock, I found it easy to relax onto Graham’s broad chest. My heart danced in an excited beat, but I did nothing, too afraid to break the spell that had descended on us. In my fantasies, Graham would fall in love with me, sweep me away to some grand manor house in the countryside, and help me forget the horrors of my past.

  Bile rose in my throat again as we careened over another wave. Would the ship capsize? In all of Father’s tales — even those that dealt with bloodthirsty pirates — nothing had terrified me more than the thought of a shipwreck. My mind’s eye could conjure horrific images of large ships splintering apart and disappearing beneath the waves. I couldn’t bring myself to imagine what would happen to the people on board.

  “It will be fine,” Graham said, his voice a whisper in my ear. Unlike earlier, I believed him. Perhaps it was the way he stroked my arm softly, distracting me from the reality that surrounded us. Or maybe I believed him because my feelings for him had deepened.

  “My mama used to tell me about meeting my father and sailing to the fort. The wildness of the frontier is what called her. I believe Father had a similar reaction to being at sea as you do. Yet he settled at the fort for Mama. He’d have stayed at sea if he could have, I think.” Memories pounded at my temples, but sharing th
e information with Graham made me feel stronger.

  “He loved her. Your father must have felt deeply for her.” Graham’s voice sounded rough with emotion.

  I sighed happily at the thought. “Yes, I know they were truly in love. Mama used to say that theirs was rare. True love. She said many people searched their whole lives to find something so wonderful, but most never do.”

  “She’s right. Most people marry for practical purposes or for alliances. Love rarely has anything to do with it.” He shifted his weight so that I fell more flush against him.

  A question that I considered too intimate to ask danced at the tip of my tongue, pressing against my lips. I knew I shouldn’t ask him anything too personal. Mama would have thought it rude, and Mrs. Saunders would have told me it was inappropriate. Given the situation, though, I couldn’t help but bring the subject to the forefront of my mind.

  “Have you ever experienced such a love?”

  Graham stilled completely, no small task given the rocking of the boat. He was silent for so long that I worried I had offended him. Finally he said, “No. I have not, though I wish I could say the opposite was true.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and immediately felt guilty. What claim did I have to his heart? What should it matter who he had feelings for? I hoped that Graham had not read my reaction for what it was.

  “Have you?” His words were so soft I almost missed them, but when I caught them I started in surprise.

  “N-no. Of course not.”

  “Of course not? A beautiful girl like you? I’m sure you had suitors lined up for miles.” Graham’s voice held a note of forced lightness, but I refused to let myself linger on the implications.

  I swallowed past an odd lump in my throat. “No. None. Mama and Father didn’t approve of the young men who came in and out of the fort. They said there was no stability in that, and Mama wouldn’t think of sending me back to England. That’s why I find it so ironic that I must go now.”

  The silence that surrounded us when I finished speaking felt different than any of our other silences. Where the others had been companionable, the absence of words now felt tense. I moistened my lips, and tried to think of something clever to say to change the subject and draw us out of the awkwardness. My mind felt like a sieve, all coherent thoughts slipped through. The only awareness I had was of Graham’s arms around me, still holding me steady. A crack of thunder resonated through the cabin, sending tremors coursing around me.

  Graham cleared his throat. “There is something I want to tell you. I— I have a daughter, waiting for me.”

  “A daughter?” I couldn’t keep the shock from my voice.

  “She’s four. Her name is Katharine. Kate.” Graham’s voice held so much emotion I thought he might burst. He sounded proud, sad, happy, and wistful, all at the same time.

  “Kate,” I repeated, unsure how to feel, because certainly a daughter meant there was a mother. And a mother meant that all the things I carried in my heart for Graham, not to mention the impropriety of this situation, were magnified one thousand times. I wanted to flee, but there was nowhere for me to go, so I allowed myself to lapse into silence again.

  Graham took a stuttering breath. “Her mother, Sarah, died around the time Kate was born. I must admit it has been difficult to care for Kate, to be the father she deserves, these past four years.”

  So he knew sorrow, too. Deep, abiding sorrow. The kind that reached down to a person’s soul. No wonder he had been such a compassionate friend to me. Instantly I wanted to take his pain away, but I had no words of comfort to offer. What could I say that would ease the burden he carried? To lose his wife, and to constantly be away from his daughter, must torture him. I curled my hand around his and squeezed tightly.

  We sat that way for a long time, neither of us speaking, as the storm subsided. I didn’t know how long we had been curled up on the floor of the cabin before the waves began to calm and the thunder became more distant, but the time we spent felt like pure bliss to me. Nothing outside could harm me while I was in Graham’s arms.

  Finally he said, “Felicity… you should know that I would not normally behave this way with a lady. I don’t want you to think this bears any impression on my opinion of you. Please know that your grandparents will be assured you have been nothing but proper on this voyage. I understand how any gossip can harm your chances of finding a husband.”

  My heart fell into my stomach, and I couldn’t swallow the disappointment that welled up in my throat like a large boulder. Graham did not see me as anything other than a fellow human being. He had been helping me out of compassion, not because he had any inkling of romantic feelings for me. I pulled away from him slightly, but his arms tightened around me. My breath caught as my emotions tumbled into a wild array of confusion.

  “Felicity.” My name sounded so different on his lips. There was a note of desperation coupled with a note of desire. I had never heard anything sound so delicious. Not for the first time, I was surprised by how much I knew instinctively but still wished I could have Mama explain to me.

  I turned in his arms and tipped my face up to him. Beyond the moment I could feel the rocking of the ship, but nothing else mattered, only that I was staring up into Graham’s eyes.

  “Felicity.”

  I couldn’t speak as he lowered his head slightly, almost imperceptibly. My breath hitched. His lips touched mine, feather soft, and I thought I might swoon. I leaned closer…

  …and a knock at the door caused Graham to pull back so quickly that I found myself on the rough floorboards.

  “My lord? The storm is over. A barrel was blocking your door. We’ve cleared the debris and the ship weathered well. The good news is that we are closer to port than we originally thought.” The disembodied voice seemed to come from a different world.

  “I-I’ll be right there.” Graham stood and offered me his hand. He would not look me in the eye as he strode across the cabin, leaving me to compose myself and wonder what had just happened.

  Chapter Ten

  We disembarked in a fine mist of rain. Mrs. Saunders held my arm as I wobbled down the gangplank and onto the wooden dock. After so many weeks of being at sea, my body had grown accustomed to the constant swaying and rocking of the ship. I knew it would take some time before I felt comfortable on dry land. Still the exhilaration of completing the trip propelled me forward. That and the fact that I did not want to confront Graham. The two of us had not spoken since he had kissed me.

  The port bustled with activity such as I had never seen before. The sights, sounds, and smells captivated me, and I barely knew in what direction to look first. Mrs. Saunders pointed out a crate of chickens that had broken loose, with one hen running in frantic circles while a woman chased after it. The two of us shared a joyful laugh to be back among other people.

  I glanced over my shoulder as the crew worked to make the vessel shipshape for their inspection. My own things were clutched in my arms, while two crew members had brought Mrs. Saunders’s trunk down. I refused to let anyone touch my things. Holding them in my arms gave me security that I did not feel at the moment. Here I was on foreign soil, waiting to meet people nearly as foreign to me. We were waiting for a carriage to come take us to my grandparents’ home in London. Though I had known they would not be waiting, I had foolishly hoped I would be wrong. Nerves had taken up residence in my stomach once again, making me feel ill. Perhaps Father’s letter had not reached them in time, or they did not want me. What then? The worries pounded at my temples, making my head ache.

  “Don’t worry, dearie,” Mrs. Saunders said for the thousandth time. She patted my arm, and I was alarmed when tears sprang to my eyes. I would miss her dreadfully. In the absence of Mama, Mrs. Saunders had been my guide and teacher. I loved her like a member of my own family. Much as I wanted to tell her those things, each time I tried, the words stuck in my throat.

  The sound of horses’ hoofs clacking on the cobblestones made my heart beat with nervous
excitement. My new journey had begun, and nothing I could do would stop it now. With a quick look around, I was disappointed to realize that Graham had not found us to say goodbye. I wondered if I would ever see him again. If I allowed myself to linger on such thoughts for too long, I began to feel melancholy, so I tried to focus instead on the way I wanted to present myself to my grandmother and grandfather.

  Mama had told me many stories about her parents, and we had received one letter a year from them, which had been read aloud with great anticipation. I had never fully understood why we got so excited, but at the moment I was glad that we had.

  “Come along, dearie,” Mrs. Saunders trilled as she took the coachman’s proffered hand.

  The inside of the carriage was sumptuous by my standards, with leather-cushioned seats, but by the way Mrs. Saunders sniffed I wondered if she shared my opinion. When our possessions were loaded, the driver ascended to his seat and clucked to the horses. With a jolt we began to move through the crowded street. Faces passed in a blur as we picked up speed.

  Despite myself I looked back toward the ship before it disappeared from view. I thought I saw Graham coming down the gangplank, but I couldn’t be sure. My mind was probably playing tricks on me. No matter how many times I told myself that I wanted to just let go of what had happened, I couldn’t. The kiss had been the single most exciting event of my life. It had helped me move to a different place emotionally. The grief that had become part of me had lessened slightly when Graham had pressed his lips to mine.

  With a sigh, I settled back against the seat and closed my eyes. The rocking of the carriage reminded me of the swaying of the ship, and eventually I fell asleep. The next thing I knew, Mrs. Saunders was gently shaking me awake. As I blinked at my surroundings, I slowly took in my reality. We had stopped before a tall brick building set back from the street. A bed of flowers bloomed brightly despite the steadily falling rain.