The pen dropped from her hand, splattering ink across the blank page... one large blob that spread and faded into several tiny droplets. Perhaps it was a metaphor for her life.
Thinking again about her loss only made her angry. She would have given up her title and wealth for a chance at happiness. The only reason Charlotte could see which made any sense, was that he did not consider her worth the sacrifice. The bitter realization nearly doubled her over with agony. It was finally real—no longer a fantasy.
Staring blankly at herself in the small glass, she did not recognize the woman looking back at her. She was a stranger who appeared to represent everything Charlotte was growing to hate. She could not look any longer. Turning the mirror face down in disgust, she huddled into the small seat in the hull and stared at nothing. For several days, she existed thus. It was as though her mind could not bear the pain and ceased to function. She no longer cared what became of her. Although Chapman would come in and fuss over her and force a few bites of food down, Charlotte barely tasted anything.
The cabin door opened and Chapman set a tray down with a loud thud. “I’ve had enough of this mopin’, your ladyship. You have missed the entire coast of France and we are alongside Portugal already. Now, I’ve had Cook prepare your favourite pudding, which you will eat, and then I am takin’ you up to the deck for some fresh air. Now, will you feed yourself or shall I do it?” She put her hands on her hips and scowled down at Charlotte as though she were still in the nursery.
Charlotte merely glared in response, wondering if it was worth the effort to fight or just comply. Chapman took a spoonful of blancmange and handed it to her. Charlotte took the spoon and thrust it in her mouth like a petulant child. It was delicious, she had to admit, as she reached for another bite-sized amount. It tasted just like Cook’s from Langborn. The maid looked on with an expression of triumph. While Charlotte ate, Chapman pulled out a day gown of pale blue muslin suited to a London drawing room in summer. There was no one to impress, but she still had no will to argue over trivial things. Perhaps the sunshine would feel nice.
Standing to allow the maid to complete her ministrations, Charlotte noticed some little, intricate woodcarvings lining her dressing table.
“What are those?” she asked.
“One has been delivered each day since we left, my lady.”
“From whom? For me?”
“I cannot say as I know, my lady.” She finished with Charlotte’s laces and directed her to sit down.
“Does someone on board carve these?”
“There is certainly extra time on our hands, even for the crew. I saw some of the men knitting and mending.”
Charlotte picked up one of the carvings and fingered it tenderly. They were some kind of creatures of the sea, she supposed. She had read of some of them but had not seen them.
A dolphin. An otter. A seal. A turtle. The one she held was some type of bird she could not name.
“These are exquisite. See if you can discover who carved them.”
“Yes, my lady,” Chapman replied as she forced Charlotte’s hair into a plain chignon.
The warm breeze that hit Charlotte’s face, as she climbed the ladder to the deck, felt invigorating. Then the sunshine felt like an assault on her eyes after so many days in a dark cabin. It was glorious. Once her eyes adjusted, the first things she noticed were rugged cliffs along a coastline and turquoise waters. She had never seen water so vivid and colourful. She now understood what had lured her mother away. She did not think she would ever tire of looking at it. Is this what she had missed by sulking in her cabin? Were those creatures someone had lovingly carved for her what she could have been seeing if she had been watching? A small glimmer of renewal began to take shape within her breast. And then she turned around. Were her eyes deceiving her?
Chapter 18
My own fairy tale, written by myself, would now include a handsome pirate, of course, to save me from my treachery and sail me away to a tropical island to know neither cold nor heartache ever again. Now I question whether ‘’tis better to be left than never to have been loved’. Perhaps in a decade I may look back at this with good humour, once the pain is not so new.—15 April
How much longer would she stay in her cabin? Each subsequent day, David was tempted to barge in and throw himself at her feet. It had made sense to come after her at the time, but now he was questioning his hasty decision. Pacing back and forth across the deck, he wondered whether or not to disembark at the next port and find another ship to save inflicting his presence upon her.
The truth was, his objections from the beginning were still valid. He still had a criminal past, and he knew she could find a better husband. He had allowed Yardley’s approval and the King’s pardon to cloud his decisions. Now, here he was, on a ship bound for Malta, chasing after a woman whose heart he had broken. He could not blame her if she did not want to see him again or give him a second chance, but he had to try. The alternative was too painful to consider.
The vast ocean and its depths could not solve his dilemma, and he had asked the deep blue many times over the past days. Leaning over the railing, he put his head in his hands. He felt near to desperation. Charlotte was worth fighting for, but was it beyond hope?
“Sir David?”
“Lady Charlotte?” He turned and looked at the vision before his eyes. It was such sweet sorrow. His first impulse was to throw his arms around her and ease the pain she was so clearly feeling—the pain he had caused by what he had done to her. She did not look well. Her hair was pulled back into a severe knot and she was ghostly pale with dark circles under her eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, as though trying to determine if he was real or an illusion.
“Your brother booked me a cabin.”
Surprise registered on her face. “Why? I do not understand. Why did you come?”
“Because I knew you would be here.”
She shook her head, looking confused. He could not blame her for not comprehending. He watched her maid slip away.
“You have been on board the whole time?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte walked over to the railing a few feet away from him and looked out into the water. “I came to forget.”
“Forget what?” he asked softly.
“You, if I am being honest. I am such a fool.” She swallowed hard. “Never before had a man looked at me the way you did or made me feel so alive. I naïvely assumed that it meant you felt the way I did. I practically threw myself at your feet. I finally realized you did not return my regard, so I left to lick my wounds in private. Must I ask again, why have you come?”
“Charlotte, it was never meant to be like that.” He reached for her and she flinched.
“I cannot see what has changed. You had been pardoned when last I saw you, yet it seemed not to be enough, then.”
“While it is true I am still unworthy of you, and no doubt should have stayed away, I found I could not. At the ball, I had several revelations.”
She turned sideways and finally looked up to meet his gaze.
“The first was, no matter what Society considers me now, you did not care when I was nobody; when I had nothing to recommend me—rather the opposite. Secondly, I found I was accepted and had been pardoned by the King—but you had accepted me before. Thirdly, your brother approves of me as a match for you and that matters to me more than it should.”
“Why?” she whispered, searching his face.
“This entire time, I have used his disapproval as validation of my unworthiness...” He stepped closer to her. “...but after he gave me passage on your ship, I could not stay away. Can you forgive me, Charlotte? Am I too late?”
She inhaled deeply. “How can I know you will not change your mind? I do not think I can bear to suffer this again. Over and over, I gave you my heart and you kept handing it back to me.”
“I did not do so because it was what I desired. I did not want to put you in danger. You re
fused to see what a poor bargain I am and I thought to convince you. What would you have done in my position?” He held out his hands, begging the question.
Her lips thinned and she shook away tears that were streaming down her cheeks. “I am not sure, but I believe I would have accepted the gift and cherished it for the rest of my life.”
He smiled at her doubtfully and stepped forward with his hand out.
She hesitated, as he expected she would.
“May I court you properly?”
“Why bother?” she asked dryly. “You know my heart is yours for the asking. I happen to know the Captain. We could marry now.”
“You little minx. I would like some time to show you what you mean to me. And I do not think I would like to answer to his Grace if we eloped. You may still change your mind.”
“Please do not tell me you mean to consult him on every detail of our marriage. I believe he already consented by sending you on this ship.”
“I suppose he did,” he said, contemplating the deliciousness of such a notion. “No, I will not let you deter me from doing things properly. Will you dine with me tonight?”
“You are determined on this?”
“I am more in earnest than I have ever been in my life.”
He took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers before tucking them into his arm. She leaned her head on his shoulder and they stood together in peaceful harmony, watching the waves ripple behind the ship, for some time. David felt a serenity he had never known—a rightness with the world and God that he knew he did not deserve. It was selfish of him to have come after Charlotte, but he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.
He had come for her. He had come for her! He said he wanted to court her and he had Yardley’s blessing. Charlotte could not believe this was real. It must be some strange dream in which she felt awake and everything seemed real—yet it was not. Why had Chapman not told her Sir David was on board? No matter; he was here now. She danced and twirled excitedly about the tiny cabin. How could her emotions go from one extreme to another in a matter of minutes? She had been in the depths of despair less than an hour ago and now she was about to burst from happiness. Admittedly, she tended to be a pessimist, given to looking suspiciously for an ulterior motive. She supposed things could still go wrong, but since they had come this far, and over the biggest hurdle, she felt cautiously optimistic. Although, it then occurred to her, he had not mentioned love or marriage—she had. Frowning, she stopped and considered. No, no, no, the little voice in her head said. Now was not the time to think but simply enjoy.
Calling for Chapman and requesting a bath—if there were such luxuries on ships—she wanted to look her best. It seemed an age until he came to escort her to dinner. She had not yet been to the dining room and did not know if there were other guests on board or not. Sir David led her up a ladder of sorts, to the deck where they had met before. It was a warm, balmy evening and the sky was a pinkish purple hue as the sun hung low over the horizon.
A small table with two chairs was sitting on the deck near the fo’c’sle. It was covered with a white cloth and candles had been lit. A deck-hand held a chair for her and she sat down.
“Is this the dining room?” she asked, giving her escort a pleased smile.
“It is the one I prefer. I thought you might enjoy the fresh air after being in your cabin for several days.”
“It is perfect.”
“The food on board is excellent. I did not have such exquisite fare on my Atlantic crossings. Your brother sent along one of his cooks.”
The waiter began to serve them several courses as though they were in a normal home.
“This is a feast!” Charlotte exclaimed as dish after succulent dish was placed before her. “How did you know all my favourites? White soup and cheesecake!”
“Your maid was a wonderful resource.”
“Why did she not tell me you were on board?”
“I asked her not to. I knew you needed time.”
Charlotte inclined her head. It was true; she might not have been as receptive at first. Then it dawned on her. “Are you the one who carved the animals?”
He replied with a simple smile. “My father taught me. It gave me time to think while I waited for you. I want us to take the time to know each other better. I want you to know what a bad bargain I am while you still have a chance to change your mind,” he continued.
“You think you can scare me away now?”
“I still think you might come to your senses. I think you will wake up one day and someone will hurt you by gossiping about me; or even with the things they will doubtless say about our children.”
“I do not deny that our world is full of malicious fools, and I do not deny that your past is likely to be spoken of again. However, it will only be of significance if we allow it to be. There will be few who will speak against us when we have the support of so many of Society’s foremost families.”
“That much is true. I admit it is astonishing to feel their presence behind me.”
“Moreover, I do not need Society to be happy, David. I would prefer not to choose between you and my family, but if there came a time when we felt it necessary to move away, I would go with you.”
“I still do not understand why you care for me so, but I will not question it.”
“Alas, that is an answer I can easily provide.” She smiled.
His eyes moved swiftly to meet hers.
“You saw me when no one else did. You brought me to life when I did not know I had yet to live.” She shook away the tears forming as she struggled for composure.
“You have not allowed others truly to see you before. You hide your light.”
She took a deep breath and he clasped her hands in his across the table.
“I can only be grateful the other men were blind or you would not be here. You also had faith in me when others did not... and now, what I had not dared to dream might be possible.”
Music began to play softly around them and Charlotte started. She had not noticed anyone joining them on the deck. A few of the deck-hands had instruments which resembled violins and they were playing a melody that faintly resembled a waltz.
“You have thought of everything,” she said softly. Feeling bashful, she lowered her lashes as she smiled.
“Lord Harris has a very diverse crew,” he replied with a wink. Rising, he held out his hand. “Lady Charlotte, may I have this dance?”
The available deck was small and the waters were calm, though his strong arms steadied her when she stumbled. She inhaled deeply of the warm air and his spicy scent that made her world feel all was as it should be. It was as magical as their first dance on the terrace when he was but a stranger, several moons ago. It was funny how, since he had come into her life, she now sensed time according to the moons. There was a mysterious draw to the moon and she could see why history and poets lauded its powers.
She was enchanted and never wanted this euphoric feeling to end. When the music ceased after a few songs, they stopped swaying and the musicians discreetly left them. David held her in his arms and looked into her eyes, into her being.
Cradling her face with gentleness, he gazed at her with what she could only describe as affection, perhaps even more. She was barely coming to understand her own feelings.
His lips descended upon hers with tender reverence. A warm fluttering sensation spread through her body and she felt alive again in the way she had experienced with none but him. Her lips tingled as she explored the taste and feel of him. She opened her eyes, so she might watch and memorize his dark lashes against his skin and the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated.
Was she opening herself up only to be rejected again? Or would he finally be hers to have and to hold? She did not want to think, simply feel... and this felt right. When his lips moved away, she let out a small whimper of protest. He chuckled as he continued to shower her face, ears and neck with soft caresses. His forehead touche
d hers and their eyes met.
“We keep finding ourselves under the moon and stars.”
“My favourite place.”
David chuckled. “They say honest work is not done at night. At least, that is what I heard often of the free trade, though you can see more than you think in the dark.”
“And you cannot see the stars without the darkness.”
“It is where I found my north star.”
When he finally led her back to her cabin, she did not want to continue courting for her mind was quite made up, but she knew it was for the best. He opened her door for her and reached inside to turn up the flame in her lamp. She stood on her tiptoes in order to give him one last kiss good night, but before her lips met his, he shouted, “What the devil?”
Chapter 19
I have ceased to be amused. I now have my handsome pirate and forces still work to keep us apart.—16 April
Chaos ensued when people heard David shout. Every available deckhand came running to see what was wrong. Charlotte tried to control her shaking limbs. It would be much more pleasant to think a strong wave had overturned everything in her cabin, but the seas had been calm and the act had been committed on purpose.
“What has happened?” Lord Harris’s deep voice boomed when he arrived. He took in the situation in seconds. Turning to his crew, he demanded them to search for a stowaway.
“You think someone sneaked on board?” David asked.
“I would put my name on the line for any of my crew. You and Charlotte are the only passengers.”
“Then this was deliberate.” The reality of the ramifications began to set in. “Thank God I was not in here at the time!” she exclaimed.
“Hopefully the criminal was searching for something, not intending to harm you,” Harris said.
“But I do not understand. What could I have that someone would sneak on board to steal?”
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