Chapter Text
“This is the right thing to do,” Mrs. Heywood assured herself as she fastened the latch on what was now her eldest daughter’s trunk. She ran her weathered hands over the case’s equally worn wood, remembering when it held her wedding trousseau nearly thirty years earlier and how it was always intended for Charlotte on her wedding day. Instead of a hope chest though, the trunk now contained all that an unmarried woman of nearly seven and twenty needed to travel from the small village of Willingden to a chateau near Provence where Mrs. Heywood’s widowed cousin waited to welcome Charlotte for at least the rest of the year and perhaps longer if her daughter proved a suitable companion.
“Dearest, are you set? They’ve come. Charlotte should be on her way,” Mr. Heywood who had stood quietly regarding his wife finally spoke from the doorway.
Mrs. Heywood turned to face her husband, the tears she tried to hold back now freely rolling down her plump cheeks.
“Oh come, you wanted this. Charlotte must go—even she sees it as the only path forward. You even convinced me it was for the best and now you’ve got me trying to sway you,” he teased lovingly as he pushed up his slipping spectacles back into place and then walked to embrace her. He’d already shed his tears the night prior following what he knew would be the last brandy and debate with the only one of his twelve children who had a biting wit and sharp mind capable of changing his.
“She wrote a letter that I’m to give to Allison after Ralph officially proposes,” Mrs. Heywood said as she slowly broke from his embrace. “She harbors no ill will toward either of them. She truly believes love must out,” she repeated what her husband already knew.
Mr. Heywood took his wife’s hand to lead her from the room. “Charlotte is a wise woman and I think sending her to France is the best choice. Who knows, perhaps she’ll find a love…a Frenchman.”
With her free hand, Mrs. Heywood retrieved her finely-embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her eyes. “Oh, can you imagine! A wealthy titled man just like cousin Susan married,” Mrs. Heywood now beamed, her smile returning for a brief moment until she considered, “but that would mean Charlotte would live so far away and would never return home.”
“Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Today our focus is on ensuring she boards the ship on time,” Mr. Heywood reminded, gently tugging on his wife’s hand to move her along, signaling to the servant to fetch the trunk the moment he stepped from the bedroom door to the hallway.
“Papa, can I go to France one day like Charlotte?” Henry chirped, a toy boat in the youngest Heywood’s hand.
“Oh not another so soon,” Mrs. Heywood declared, quickly releasing her husband’s hand and hugging up the boy. “You stay with mama,” she repeated as she placed two wet kisses on the child’s reddened cheeks.
“Mama,” he struggled to get away and wiped his face.
“Come on you two,” Mr. Heywood pushed the two forward. “Hurry, hurry. We can’t keep Reverend Hankins and his sister waiting.”
“Yes, yes. We are so fortunate that the timing with his conference worked out and they are able to escort Charlotte to London. She won’t be lonely and will have people to talk with,” Mrs. Heywood rushed down the stairs while Mr. Heywood exchanged a quick glance with his youngest son, both knowing Charlotte wouldn’t get a word in edgewise for the entire journey.
“Ah, Mrs. Heywood. Good morning,” the beyond middle-aged reverend greeted as he snapped his pocket watch shut. “Is our travel companion ready? We must make haste. Sister is in the coach praying for our safe journey.”
“Good morning and thank you again for seeing Charlotte to her ship. Her uncle, the Captain will be waiting. Where is Charlotte?” Mrs. Heywood looked to her remaining ten children who had gathered in the front parlor to see their older sister off.
“Charlotte is saying goodbye to Spirit…again,” Allison said softly, well aware she was in large part responsible for her sister’s departure.
“Go fetch her, Allison,” Mr. Heywood ordered, appearing from the hallway.
Allison nodded and with her head cast down, she headed past her father who stopped her before reaching the door.
“Sweetheart, she is not cross with you. Now make your peace with your sister and send her off with love,” Mr. Heywood whispered, receiving a weak smile from his second eldest daughter.
“I’m sorry I can’t take you,” Charlotte looked her trusted chestnut Chapman in his dark brown eyes, the color of her own, and repeated her apology. Not only her horse but her confidant for nearly fifteen years, Charlotte knew this was the toughest goodbye. While she loved her many siblings, it was Spirit who knew her every dream and carried her far away when she needed to escape her role as mother’s helper and defacto third parent to the Heywood clan.
Allison stood at the stable door and watched her sister share her final secrets with the steed, wishing they could have shared such a relationship yet knowing she herself could barely keep a secret for longer than a minute. “Charlotte, they are here,” Allison said softly, her presence surprising Charlotte who turned quickly, her long navy-blue coat catching a few loose stalks of hay at the hem.
“Yes, thank you,” Charlotte said, turning to give Spirit one last nuzzle before making her way toward Allison.
“Charlotte, you know how sorry I am…” Allison began but Charlotte took her hand to stop her.
“I had no hold on Ralph. It was a silly agreement made as children. You love him and he loves you and you should both be together,” Charlotte smiled gently and squeezed her sister’s hand before releasing it and pulling Allison into her arms. “All I want is for you both to be happy,” she said, holding her tightly as she recalled the day she and Ralph made the unfortunate pact.
Ralph, the son of what was considered the second-most respected family in Willingden, was the same age as Charlotte and from the time they were able to walk, they had been thick as thieves. When they were thirteen, Charlotte became rudely aware of a girl’s responsibility to marry and was beyond devastated to learn she could not have the same freedoms as Ralph or her younger brothers to travel, attend university, or do so many other things she considered universally acceptable. Sitting by the Heywood pond considering her fate, Charlotte hadn’t heard Ralph approach from the field. Seeing the tears in her eyes he promised that if they had not found love by twenty-seven they would marry and Charlotte would have all the freedom she desired. It was a childish pact but one that seemed to gain traction as they both matured, their parents suddenly believing it was a legitimate proposal once both children neared the agreed-upon age.
But fate had other plans. Upon returning from a year’s long travel to the Highlands with his godfather, Ralph returned, coming first to the Heywood estate to see his old friend and potential wife before traveling home. It was Allison who he first spotted picking wildflowers in the far pasture and who instantly stole his heart—both new lovers feeling nothing but guilt for betraying their beloved Charlotte.
How it happened, no one was quite certain for sure, but soon the normally sleepy village was ripe with gossip about the town’s two leading families. There were wild stories about a broken contract, a duel, and a potential elopement not so quietly spreading about the town. In the local pub, there were more disgusting suggestions among the ill-bred of the village that Ralph had been “familiar” with both sisters and had no desire to wed either.
Store clerks to shepherds could be found debating the merits of the sisters, comparing Allison’s childlike energy, easy giggles, and nearly raven locks to Charlotte’s unexpected wit, quiet confidence, and golden brown curls as well as their different physical attributes where more than one ungentlemanly male quietly agreed that Charlotte’s body was something of a tantalizing wonder with her full breasts and ample hips. It was becoming something of a regular occurrence for her brothers to take to fists to defend their sisters. Even Mr. Heywood, a pacifist to be sure, had raised his cane at an insulting drunk at the late winter festival.
None of them believed the truth, which was that Charlotte was relieved Allison and Ralph were in love as she never intended to fulfill the pact. While she deeply cared for Ralph, it was not the level of emotion that would survive a marriage, and was confident the good friends would end up resenting each other in the end. When Susan’s invitation to join her in France as a companion arrived, Charlotte knew it was the perfect opportunity to hopefully put such rumors to rest and for her sister and Ralph to start a new life out from under her shadow. While her father, who rarely traveled beyond five miles from home, was difficult to convince, in the end, she was able to secure his permission and arranged travel in just a few weeks’ time. It was fortunate she remembered her long-widowed uncle—her father’s brother-in-law—who captained a ship that make regular runs to France, Spain, and Portugal. It was that familial connection that finally won her father over.
“Charlotte!” her father’s voice rang loudly from the drive.
“I must go,” Charlotte whispered, kissing her sister on the cheek before stepping for the door. “Now you promise me, you will write me every detail of your wedding day and send me a swatch of the dress fabric,” she said with a smile before turning and heading to the coach that would take her on the first part of her journey to what she knew would be a much different life.
*****
“He has written again. He’d like you to meet at his club for drinks. I think his assistant actually misspelled Parker,” James said, squinting at the handwriting before placing the correspondence from Mr. Campion on the top of the pile.
Sidney let out a sigh as he looked up at his trusted office manager, James, and then ran his hand through his short dark curls before he picked up the letter.
“I don’t think Mr. Campion is taking ‘no’ for an answer,” James said, glancing over at Butter, Sidney’s golden retriever who lifted her head upon hearing the Campion name, believing the dog was actually now wearing a sneer.
Sidney stood with the letter in his hand, walking to the small fireplace at the far side of his office. “Yes, I believe he’s not too familiar with hearing that word,” Sidney muttered, remembering how long ago before Sidney achieved his success his intended was unable to say the word to the man and was now Mrs. Campion—one of the most fashionable and influential women among the ton. “We are not selling to him,” Sidney said and crumpled the letter in his hand before tossing it into the flames.
“Sidney, I’m hearing he is determined to have your ships and your Atlantic and Indian ocean routes. They say money is no object. He just wants you to name your price…” James said and then added quietly, “and I’m also hearing if you don’t, he’s planning on taking it.”
“Come now,” Sidney replied, forcing a smile. “You can’t believe everything you hear,” he patted his trusted employee and friend on the shoulder before walking to Butter and giving his beloved canine’s head a gentle caress. “Kindly decline Mr. Campion’s invitation. I need to head to the ship as we depart at first light.”
“I don’t know why you don’t wait for one of your own ships to take you,” James repeated what he’d been saying to his boss for weeks as he began to sort through some of the papers Sidney needed for his journey.
“We don’t have anyone scheduled to return for at least a month and I promised Diana. I’ve already delayed twice and if I wait any longer that baby of hers will be walking by the time Butter and I get there,” he replied, giving Butter another quick pet before returning to his desk.
Sidney’s younger sister had married a clerk to England’s Ambassador to France and he could tell from her letters she was eager to have a touch of home, instructing Sidney on the types of biscuits, wool, and candies to bring with him on his journey to Paris. “And this will give me a chance to check out the competition,” he added, truly not looking forward to boarding a Campion-owned vessel but was familiar with the captain who, unlike many in Campion’s employ, had a respected reputation and a companionable manner. If Sidney had an opening among his crew, the captain would be someone he would consider for his own fleet.
“I wish you’d wait,” James said, handing Sidney the stack of papers for review. While he wanted to tell Sidney he had a bad feeling about the voyage, James knew better than to jinx it by giving voice to his concerns.
“Diana will disown me if I do,” Sidney joked, placing the papers in his leather satchel. “Now I will be back in less than a month’s time. Just make sure that our crews’ families get their regular baskets of staples and that they are here when the ships come in to celebrate their husbands’ and sons’ return,” he reminded. While other companies reveled in hiring single men who would spend their earnings on drink and women, Sidney found employing men who had something to work for were more committed and helped his business thrive.
Sidney gathered up his belongings and signaled for Butter to join him as he opened the office door. He paused and looked back at James. “I know you’re worried. If anything happens while I’m gone, first contact Inspector Jarvis and then Babington and Crowe. They’ll know what to do,” he instructed, suddenly worried that Campion might just attempt something in his absence.
James nodded. “Don’t worry, I will. Give Diana my best,” he said, the name of his now-married crush in his mouth making it difficult to smile.
“I will,” Sidney replied, knowing it was painful for James to think of Diana happily married and now a mother. “I will.”
*****
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Beatrice Hankins asked, placing her handkerchief to her nose. The reverend’s spinster sister some fifteen years Charlotte’s senior had never been to a dock before and had just inhaled deeply as a large cart of fresh fish passed.
“Of course,” Charlotte stared up at the large ship trying to sound confident, herself also never setting foot on a dock let alone a massive, sea-going ship. While she enjoyed piloting the small sailboat on the Heywood pond and had swum in the sea when on holiday with her friend’s family, this was an entirely new experience and Charlotte was suddenly finding it all not just exciting but more than a little overwhelming.
“Beatrice and I must be off. Let’s get you on board,” Reverend Hankins chirped, again snapping his watch closed.
That sound made Charlotte wince. Nearly every fifteen minutes of the day’s long journey the Reverend checked his watch and loudly clicked it closed, dutifully reporting the time as if some living clock before resuming his non-stop observations on the people he’d see at the upcoming ecclesiastical conference as well as the dinners and lectures he’d be attending.
“Yes,” Charlotte replied respectfully, thankful that at least the Reverend and his sister had kindly avoided any mention of her sister, Ralph, or the subject of marriage.
“Miss Charlotte Heywood!” a jovial man of some sixty years hurried down the gangway. “I’d know you anywhere! You are the perfect combination of your mother and father!” the man shouted, his arms open wide.
“Uncle Harry?” Charlotte questioned. While she possessed something better than an eidetic memory, she had trouble recalling the features of the man she’d met only a few times in her life and those occurrences happening before the age of ten. He had married her father’s older sister, the unfortunate woman dying just a few years after their wedding. Left without children, Harry set out to the sea with his grief, knowing he’d never marry again. Every December he’d send a more than twenty-page letter to her father of his adventures as well as a hefty parcel consisting of brandy, exotic candies, and spices for the family.
He embraced her as if she was the child he remembered and then awkwardly stepped back with apologies. “Oh, I have so desperately forgotten my manners. You are not a little girl, are you?” he bowed politely and then turned to welcome Reverend Hankins and Beatrice before signaling for one of his crewmen to retrieve Charlotte’s things.
“It’s lovely to see you and I cannot thank you enough for helping me get to my cousin. She’s assured me there will be a proper escort to receive us when we arrive…” Charlotte informed, the sound of the Reverend’s watch snapping closed again stopping her words.
“If I may, Sir, a word in private,” Reverend Hankins took several steps to the edge of the dock and signaled for the Captain to follow.
“I’m sure he’s giving the Captain a blessing for your journey,” Beatrice assured and shot Charlotte a nervous smile.
With the way her uncle looked back at her with kind sympathy, she was fairly confident the Reverend was reciting his own version of what had happened back in Willingden and she was being painted as a rather pitiful, unwedable soul.
“Reverend,” Charlotte called. “I believe you said you had dinner plans with your most generous benefactrix, the honorable Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
“Oh, oh!” the Reverend again opened his watch and then snapped it shut. “Safe travels. God bless. Come, come, sister,” he said hurriedly while waving for Beatrice to join him.
“How about we get you aboard the old lady here?” Harry caringly held his arm out for his niece.
Exhausted from the journey but also annoyingly concerned about what the Reverend may have said, Charlotte accepted his offer and laced her arm with his.
“You know what I like most about the sea?” Harry asked as they reached the deck.
“What?” Charlotte replied, her eyes taking in the massive space as deckhands hurried about in preparation for their voyage.
“There is always something new just beyond the horizon and every day is a wonderfully fresh start,” he smiled as he took a deep breath of the sea air. “Now let’s get you settled,” he smiled and led her to the cabins. “This is primarily a cargo run so there is only one other passenger. I hope you won’t find the lack of conversation and company too dull,” he said, opening the door to the small accommodations that consisted only of a pocket bed, desk, and chair. “But I imagine that the Reverend might have provided enough conversation for days on the way here—you might enjoy the peace.”
“The quiet sounds absolutely perfect,” she let out a light laugh at her uncle’s astute observation.
“I’ll let you get settled. After you’re rested, I hope you’ll join me and the other passenger later in my cabin for dinner. We leave at the first glimmer of light and we’ll have you with your cousin in no time,” he said, moving to the side to allow the crewman to enter with Charlotte’s trunk. “Oh, I almost forgot. Stay here,” her uncle said as he rushed off. A few seconds later he returned with a vase of yellow roses which he secured to a shelf above the desk. “If I remember correctly, you liked these as a child…you were always pricking your fingers when you tried to pick them from your mother’s garden.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte smiled broadly at the wonderfully kind gift.
“And I have something for you as well,” she said, placing her satchel on the bed and retrieving a thick letter from her father along with homemade biscuits made by her mother.
“Ahh, these are more precious than gold,” he smelled the container and bowed graciously before taking his leave.
Charlotte closed and latched the cabin door then glanced around her temporary home, feeling rather selfish that she’d rather there be no other passengers so she might enjoy the quiet of the ship on her own.
*****
Sidney watched as the crewmen removed his trunks from his coach and loaded them onto the ship, noticing how low the vessel sat in the water. “Carrying a full load?” Sidney asked as Harry approached.
“Yes, Mr. Parker. We have a lot of cargo this run, just one other passenger,” Harry said, holding out his hand. “I have to be honest…I don’t know if you were trying to keep a low profile but we all know who you are and feel very privileged to have you with us. But honestly, we were all somewhat surprised that you are not traveling on one of your own ships,” he said quietly. “You looking to buy out Mr. Campion?” he added with a merry twinkle in his eye.
Sidney shook his head with a smile. “We are all just old sailors. Call me Sidney, please. I’m focused on other countries than where Mr. Campion sails. I just happen to have family that I very much want to see in France and need transport,” he explained and then looked down at Butter who had poked his thigh with her nose. “I mean, we want to see,” he corrected. “Don’t worry, she’s trained to be on a ship and is very obedient,” he assured confidently, well knowing that last part was something of a stretch.
“Oh, there are quite a few tales about your old girl,” Harry said happily, kneeling to greet the retriever. “Is it true she fought off a shark and saved your life?” he asked, now focused on Butter who was very pleased to have an admirer.
“Yes, yes it is,” Sidney rolled his eyes and shook his head at Butter who had looked up with a big smile. While it was technically true that the dog had saved him, the “shark” was a pup that had probably just that day swam away from its mother and Butter had “saved him” by accidentally dropping a cured leg of lamb she had just stolen from the cold storage cabin in the water, distracting the baby shark while Sidney climbed up the ship’s ladder.
“Well, we all feel very privileged to have a hero on board,” Harry said, rising and giving Butter one last pet. “Let’s get you settled. I need to see to our navigator now but I hope you’ll join me for dinner…and Butter too, of course.”
“Thank you for the invitation. I look forward to it,” Sidney said, following Harry up the weathered gangway, his eyes cataloging every aspect of his competitor’s operations and unexpectedly feeling that he should perhaps rethink his sailing. While the ship was formidable, Sidney had demanded a higher level of rigor from his crews, having far advanced the already stringent behaviors learned from his now-deceased former mentor and then partner, Mr. Bennett.
“You mentioned family. Are you off to visit your wife?” Harry asked, pausing at Sidney’s cabin door.
“No, sister,” Sidney politely smiled, always hating questions regarding his marital status. While he attended varied balls and dinners where eager mothers frequently threw their accomplished daughters in his path, he had yet to be stirred even though he was well aware the young women were far beyond what he deserved. He knew if he wanted a family he would someday need to marry but wasn’t yet ready to fate any woman to what he knew could only be a loveless marriage, having never felt for any woman what he once had for the now Mrs. Campion.
Harry glanced down at Charlotte’s closed cabin door, the romantic cogs in his brain whirling. “Until dinner then,” he reminded, pushing open Sidney’s door.
Sidney stood in the center of the small room, removed his jacket and cravat, and then fell back heavily on the bed, his mind turning over both the most trivial thoughts—like what a pleasantly warm spring they were having—to the most troubling, including if he’d fully weighed what a dangerous competitor Campion just might be. While Sidney had won the esteem of the more respectable businessmen and titled of the ton, Mr. Campion had more than twenty years on him—twenty years of connections, agreements, and equity that Sidney could never match. Having reached his thirtieth year last month, Sidney was proud of all he’d accomplished so far but was neither ignorant nor arrogant enough to believe he did it alone. He knew he’d succeeded due to a fair amount of luck and that luck could always change.
“Butter,” he whispered as he stared up at the ceiling, suddenly feeling beyond tired, his eyes heavy. “You must be at your best here. This is not our ship and I need you to actually be obedient for once,” he said, not realizing Butter had already left the room.
*****
Charlotte stared at the short note from her mother, rereading it for the third time before placing it down on the desk. She was unaware the kind woman had hidden it among her toiletries and was now fighting the urge to cry.
My dearest,
Where have the years gone? How could they have all slipped by so fast without even a warning? If I’d known you were to leave us, I would have told you each day how brilliant you are, how you’ve been the bright spot of my every day, how I respect and cherish your wit and delight in hearing your, albeit sometimes fantastic, ideas. My precious, intelligent girl, perhaps one day Willingden will grow to be a community that understands and values women like you but I fear you are too big to fathom for these small minds.
I am happy you are not to marry Ralph for I believe your life is to be so much grander than your old friend. And I believe what has happened, yes, even the horrible rumors, to be a blessing for you are to have a real chance at happiness! A chance to truly live! Of course, I will cry and wring my hands and your father will think me silly as I moan on, but know that in my truest heart, I am confident there are greater things for you in this world than can be found in this small village. My Charlotte, my little bluebird, fly free and high! May you wear this little token each day for luck and to remind you that I know you can only soar!
Always, your loving mother
Charlotte held the small, enameled bluebird pin in her trembling hand, never before realizing her mother held such thoughts. “Oh mama,” she whispered, affixing the pin to her chemise close to her heart before adjusting her simple burgundy dress and pinning back a few stray locks that she could feel but not see, the cabin lacking a mirror.
When she lowered her hands to her sides, Charlotte found herself feeling taller, somehow stronger as if she was no longer running from something but to something that might just be rather wonderful. “You can be the Charlotte you want to be,” she said, realizing her uncle recalled her as a child and Susan only knew her through her letters. All of her history in Willingden—all the people who had watched her day in and day out were gone. A sudden sense of freedom rushed through her and she felt a joyful anticipation she hadn’t expected as well as a brilliant excitement for what was to come.
She was happily storing her mother’s letter in the fine copy of Heraclitus her father had gifted her when she heard a scratch at the cabin door, a sound that challenged her new-found confidence.
“Rats,” Charlotte whispered. While frightened of little, rats were one thing she could not stomach and were the only facet of the ship that concerned her, having read how they often could be found on board.
The scratching came again but this time it sounded more like a larger animal…more like Allison’s cat, Gracie, and she slowly approached the door. “Who’s there?” she asked, leaning her ear against the knotted wood. She waited for several seconds but there was no response, suddenly another scratch made her jump back. Unsure of what was on the other side, Charlotte held her breath and slowly opened the door. She couldn’t help but let out a light laugh when she found a very proud Butter sitting with what looked to be a long piece of fabric in her mouth. “Where did you come from?” Charlotte asked, opening the door wide.
Butter seized the opportunity and rushed into the room, dropping what now appeared to be a man’s cravat as she sniffed and explored Charlotte’s things.
“Aren’t you a nosy thing,” Charlotte again laughed, picking up the cravat as she turned to watch the excited dog explore the outside of her trunk. The subtle scent of jasmine and something wonderfully masculine emanating from the fine cloth enticed her to lift the fabric to her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the aroma delightfully intoxicating in a way that sent an unfamiliar yet delicious sensation through her body.
Suddenly, the sound of a man clearing his throat came from the doorway.
“Excuse me, I believe that’s mine,” Sidney said apologetically.
Still holding the cravat near her face, Charlotte opened her eyes wide, immediately embarrassed. The utterance from behind her making her cheeks instantly flush with embarrassment.
“Butter, come!” he ordered.
Quickly realizing Sidney meant the dog and not the cravat, Charlotte tightly crumpled the fabric in her hand, discreetly shoved it in her pocket, and then turned to face him, feeling herself slightly off balance when she took in the man before her—Sidney’s shirt half open, his dark curls scattered about from his brief repose.
Butter looked up at Charlotte and couldn’t help but smirk and then shifted her attention to Sidney who also appeared immediately struck by the woman before him. With a bit of a huff, Butter decidedly disobeyed Sidney’s order by plopping down on the floor and promptly rolling over, begging Charlotte for belly rubs.
“Now!” Sidney repeated, embarrassed at the outright lack of discipline his dog was currently displaying in front of a complete stranger—a stranger before whom he inexplicably felt he needed to appear that, at the very least, he had the respect of his dog.
“It’s okay,” Charlotte countered, bending over to pet a happy Butter. “She’s lovely and I so adore dogs.”
Butter kept her brown eyes locked with Sidney’s, daring him to contradict Charlotte’s words and tear her away from the obviously intelligent woman who clearly possessed impeccable taste.
Sidney watched with what he admittedly felt was a curious fascination as Charlotte cuddled up his dog. There was something calming about it all—domestic even—and he hadn’t felt so at peace in what he realized was a dreadfully long time. He allowed himself to revel in the sensation for that moment, feeling his normally tense shoulders relax.
“I’m still the Captain of this ship and you will take your orders from me! Is that understood!” Harry’s booming voice echoed from the end of the hallway where his quarters were located. A slamming door followed by distant footsteps drew both Charlotte and Sidney from their innocent peace as Butter hopped up and ran to join Sidney at the door. While the dog may not be the most obedient, she was at the ready when heated words were said and her Sidney might be in danger.
Charlotte stood and brushed a few strands of Butter’s fur from her skirts before raising her eyes to meet Sidney’s. “I..I should see to my uncle,” she stammered, walking toward him.
“Yes, of course…your uncle is the Captain,” Sidney replied, stepping out into the hall to allow her to pass. “Mr. Parker and you’ve already met Butter,” he offered introductions with a nervous smile.
“Char…Miss Heywood,” she quickly corrected herself. It had been quite a while since she’d had a new acquaintance as she knew nearly everyone in Willingden and almost forgot her manners.
Sidney watched as she walked down the hall, unable to stop himself from suddenly asking, “so will I see you at dinner?”
Charlotte abruptly halted and turned her head.
“Your uncle offered an invitation to dine,” he clarified, suddenly feeling he was again a boy of sixteen.
“Yes,” she nodded and turned away to hide what she knew was a rather giddy smile. “See you soon,” she added, her back still toward him.
Sidney continued to watch as Charlotte knocked softly on her uncle’s cabin door and then quickly disappeared inside. He stood for another moment before he turned on his heel and headed back to his own quarters, feeling lighter and happier than he had in years.
*****
“I tried once to return to Willingden, but I saw your aunt’s face everywhere,” Harry explained, pouring Charlotte another glass of wine.
“Well, know you were missed,” Charlotte nodded with thanks and took a small sip of the robust Bordeaux, her pallet not yet familiar with the mouth-drying tannins but most definitely enjoying it. She was contemplating what things might be like when she returned to Willingden and wondered if she really could.
“If you’re going to live with your mother’s cousin, Lady Susan, I’d get familiar with the best,” Harry smirked, placing the bottle to the side and pushing forward the plate of dried apricots and rich cheeses. “She is most certainly in a different stratosphere than an old captain like me but our shared relations have given us reason to mix and every once and a while she and I raise a glass when we find ourselves in the same city—a rarity but always a magnificent time.” Harry stopped and regarded his niece, recognizing that her thoughts had traveled elsewhere. “Charlotte, your best years are ahead. I’m sure of it.”
Charlotte looked up at her uncle who had walked to open his stateroom door in anticipation of Sidney’s arrival. “That Reverend Hankins said quite a few things…” he began, letting out a laugh when he saw Charlotte uncontrollably roll her eyes.
Sidney took a deep breath before opening his cabin door. “Stop acting like such a fool,” he chastised. “You exchanged a few simple words with the woman on nothing of importance…you know nothing of her and she nothing of you,” he reminded, his hand resting on the latch. “Nothing, nothing, nothing…”
Since parting with Charlotte, Sidney had found it impossible to drive her from his thoughts and he could not ignore the fact that he felt what he reluctantly admitted were butterflies in his stomach. Nearly every happily wedded man who married for love who he knew reported—after having a few glasses of port, of course—of having a similar first-meeting experience with their now wife. Both nervous and, he had to admit, excited, he took another deep breath. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. She may think you the ugliest, meanest thing on earth—just proves her good taste,” he teased himself.
Butter nudged his hand, eager to see her new friends and hopefully coax a few treats. “Okay, here we go—and please,” he looked down at Butter, “be on your best. Help me look good.”
Sidney turned the latch half expecting Butter to charge down the corridor but she instead stayed obediently at his side. With a slow but anticipating step, he made his way to the light at the end of the hall, pausing as he heard the voices, not wanting to interrupt a private conversation.
“Well, my dear,” Harry raised his glass after sharing what Hankins had divulged and Charlotte had explained the reality of things. “Here is to your wonderful future in France and as to your ‘intended,’” he was about to joke about Ralph but Butter walked into the room not realizing her master had stilled in the hallway.
Sidney shut his eyes and smiled, trying to steady himself. Of course, she has an intended, you idiot, he thought and let out the breath he’d been holding.
“Sidney?” Harry called as he walked to the door. “Come, come. Now we have our party,” he said joyfully, welcoming Sidney with a hearty pat on the back while leading him to the table. “Please, let me introduce you to my niece…”
“We’ve had the pleasure,” Charlotte said softly before taking a sip of her wine, desperate to quell the nervous little birds who seemingly had nested in her belly. Throughout her conversation with her uncle, she found her thoughts frequently wander to consider the man she’d only briefly met and was so looking forward to his arrival. She looked up and met Sidney’s eyes, unable to control her widening smile.
“Yes, Butter is a curious one. I fear she made her way into Miss Heywood’s cabin earlier. I hope she didn’t harm anything,” he said kindly, trying to hide his disappointment in learning she was to wed another.
“No, of course not. She’s welcome any time,” Charlotte replied, letting out a pleasant little gasp when Butter unexpectedly placed her head in her lap.
Harry placed a glass of wine in Sidney’s hand and invited him to sit across from Charlotte. For a moment, he was quiet as Sidney took his chair. He couldn’t help but smile. It all seemed so right as he looked at Sidney and Charlotte—it was as if fate had brought together the man and woman before him for something wonderful to begin. “It’s Charlotte’s first voyage. You’re very lucky my dear, Sidney here has traveled the world and owns the best transatlantic and pacific lines. I’m sure he has even more exciting tales than I do,” Harry praised before walking to his desk to busy himself with some papers while he left the two in private.
Sidney focused on the cheese plate before him, trying to think of a question that would avoid mention of her intended as he simply didn’t want to hear about the lucky bloke. “So, Miss Heywood, tell me what do you think of the ship?”
“It’s all very interesting and wonderfully efficient. But it’s smaller than I thought it would be,” she added quietly, not wanting to in any way insult her uncle. “The drawings I’ve seen in books seem to make them appear so much bigger. I’m worried about the gulf stream this time of year. How will we fair when we hit the open water?”
Sidney looked up from the plate, a piece of stilton in his fingers. “You say you haven’t been on a ship before?” he asked, impressed with her question.
“I like to know what I’m getting into,” she replied, wiping her hands on her napkin as Butter had just left her side in an attempt to beg the cheese from Sidney’s hand. “And Willingden has a very good bookshop. For a town that is rather far from the sea, it has an awfully large maritime section.”
“They must,” he regarded her with admiration, having noted earlier her edition of Heraclitus in her cabin, himself fond of the company of the great philosophers. “You have a good eye. The ship is smaller than what you’d need to traverse the rough waters traveling from continent to continent but is very appropriate for the channel. It is a fine ship,” he assured, while his eyes took in her lovely face, too distracted to notice that Butter had delicately nibbled the cheese from his hand.
“She is quite the stealth bandit,” Charlotte laughed, drawing attention to the unnoticed theft.
Sidney wiped his hands and gave Butter a scolding look before giving her a wink, quite thankful the dog had made Charlotte laugh, which suddenly became his absolutely favorite sound in the world. Simultaneously, Charlotte and Sidney reached for another piece of cheese for the dog, unexpectedly brushing fingers. “Excuse me,” they said at the same time, both letting their fingers touch for a moment more before pulling their hands away.
For several quiet moments, Sidney and Charlotte looked at each other, Charlotte trying to determine what to ask next of the worldly man before her and Sidney dealing with the sinking feeling in his stomach that told him he should not be having such emotions for a woman who was spoken for. “Captain,” he forced himself to bring Harry back into the conversation. “What route will we follow? Might you have a map to show Miss Heywood?”
“Yes, yes,” Harry looked up at Sidney, surprised that he’d been invited back so soon. Harry lifted a scroll from his desk and walked to the head of the table. “At first light tomorrow we’ll depart the harbor and head here, then cross the channel, and up the French coast,” he said, tapping his finger on the paper. “It will be a bit rough but safer than going up the English coast…no matter what my new navigator says,” he added in something of a growl.
“New navigator?” Sidney looked up, not liking that information as Campion’s ‘new’ navigators were rumored to be more interested in cost over safety.
“The company sent him. He said it’s now safe going up the coast and then crossing but no, we will follow my trusted route,” Harry assured. “It will be fine,” he added when he noticed the concern in Charlotte’s eyes.
“Why is it not safe to go up on this side?” she asked, her finger tracing along the English coastline.
Sidney and Harry exchanged a quick look, Harry giving Sidney a nod to go ahead and explain.
“Wreckers,” Sidney said, the word causing Butter to sit up at attention. “Along this coast,” he began, his finger lightly touching hers as he ran it along the map, “there are groups of villains who build fake lights to draw ships off course, drawing them into dangerous coves so they crash upon the rocks.”
“I’ve never read anything about that. Why would anyone do such a horrible thing?” Charlotte asked in disbelief.
“When the cargo washes up on the beach, they seize it,” Sidney said, deciding to leave out the part about the wreckers ruthlessly murdering any survivors who made it to shore and then stealing jewelry and anything of worth from the corpses.
“You don’t see it in the papers since the Crown doesn’t want people to know how often it happens,” Harry added, quickly gathering up the map. “Enough of that. I’d like to hear more about Sidney’s travels and some of the heroics of his legendary Butter,” he said, taking a plate of cold meat and bread from the sideboard and placing it on the table. “Sidney, please, entertain us.”
****
Charlotte stretched her arms above her head, her hands hitting the wall hard, reminding her she was certainly no longer home in Willingden. The events of the previous evening rushed back and she immediately buried her face into the pillow, embarrassed at how wonderfully happy and hopeful she felt. For several hours, Sidney and Harry shared their most entertaining stories of their exciting travels while Charlotte offered her most humorous—and Sidney would, if asked, say “charming”—anecdotes from Willingden. To Charlotte, it was a perfect night and now she was more than eager to start what she hoped to be an equally wonderful day.
After quickly tossing the blanket to the side, she washed and dressed, pausing momentarily to let her fingers touch her new bluebird pin, convinced her mother was right about her life ahead. While she wanted to be up at first light to see the ship leave the harbor, Charlotte found that when she reached the deck she had missed that sight but not the sunrise and hurried to the railing to watch the glowing orb emerge and slowly transform the red sky to shades of orange, yellow, and then blue. As she leaned against the railing, she considered what Uncle Harry had said the night before about cousin Susan. Her mother had talked about her fortune cousin in the most admiring of terms and while Susan’s letters were always entertaining, Charlotte suddenly realized that she’d not spent much time thinking what it would be like to live with her in France and how different and hopefully exciting things may truly be.
Unlike Charlotte, Sidney had been on the deck as they left the harbor, in fact, he’d been there since before first light as he found it nearly impossible to sleep after leaving the Captain’s quarters. Each time he’d nearly doze off, he’d remember another one of Charlotte’s stories and the delightful way she took on the voices of various characters while telling her tales—cleverly recalling conversations almost word-for-word and adding her own witty observations throughout.
From the stern, he watched as she excitedly rushed to the bow, and marveled at how she never took her eyes from the horizon. Part of him wanted to join her, wondering if she had heard about what a red sky in the morning meant and eager to point out the various landmarks but he would not allow himself such intimacy. He was well aware that his heart had so instantly become committed to this woman who was already bound to another and he would never even attempt to do to her intended what Campion had so rudely done to him so many years earlier.
Deciding to return below to care for Butter, who he left in the cabin snoring away with her cheese and cold meat-filled belly, Sidney opted not to indulge in Charlotte’s company. While regarding her that morning, his mind had so many pleasant thoughts about what they might discuss but they were all overshadowed by the image of her disembarking and rushing to her love when they docked in France. He thought he’d made it to the stairs unseen but then heard his name.
“Sidney, come see! I think these are dolphins!” Charlotte called happily and then realized the utter impropriety of her outburst. “Mr. Parker. Good morning,” she corrected much more quietly and returned her focus to the water, immediately remembering how many times she almost called him Sidney last night as well as, after possibly one too many glasses of wine, her rather inappropriate question about how Butter “relieved herself” while on a ship. She still wasn’t sure whether or not Sidney was joking when he whispered that the dog was quite skilled with a chamber pot.
Sidney met the eyes of a few of the sailors who turned to look at the lucky fellow who’d seemingly won the lovely woman’s affections. His returning glance was one that told them to get back to work as he quickly made his way to Charlotte’s side. “Good morning, Miss Heywood,” he said politely. One look at her bright eyes and he knew it would be impossible for him to follow his earlier resolution to avoid her and spare his heart.
*****
Not exactly certain how the time had passed so quickly but both Charlotte and Sidney were what could only be described as dumbfounded at the late hour when Harry had to finally push them out of his cabin following dinner.
The entire day was spent in conversation about so much and so little, with topics ranging from the varied animals of the sea and how they differed in the seven oceans to understanding the unique farming techniques used in Willingden so as to not deplete the distinctively rich soil of the area. It was of course not all polite discourse as Sidney and Charlotte unabashedly expressed very different opinions on a variety of subjects and there was more than once when their kind repartee elevated to a heated banter with Butter often stepping in for a pet at just the right time to halt a full-blown argument.
While Harry had been a key contributor to the dinner conversation the evening prior, this night he enjoyed watching Sidney and Charlotte get lost in each other, having rarely seen two people so well suited although he did notice Sidney inexplicably seemed to occasionally try to establish more distance. But every time the besotted man attempted to pull away from the conversation in an effort to protect his heart from the decimation he knew was soon to come, some clever word or turn of phrase drew him back in and, in Harry’s eyes, made Sidney appear even more smitten with his clever niece.
As Harry headed up the steps in search of the new navigator—something of a weasel-like man who had, apart from a few tense interactions with the crew, remained in his quarters—Charlotte and Sidney quietly made their way to the opposite end of the hallway to their rooms.
“Do you think we’ll be there by morning?” Charlotte asked, wishing the journey from England to France would take much more time. She bent over slightly to pet a sleepy Butter who had trailed behind them and had just caught up.
Sidney nodded. “We’ve been favored with good winds,” he said, wanting instead to say “cursed.”
“And you’re heading to Paris then, yes?” she stopped before her cabin door, keeping her eyes cast down at her hands. “Perhaps we might break our fast before…” she began and looked up at him, her lips forming a nervous smile.
So wanting to say yes but knowing he had no desire to meet the man who would be Charlotte’s husband—a man he convinced himself must be some prince or other titled god for who else would deserver her—Sidney forced himself to interrupt. “Unfortunately I will need to leave the moment we dock and I would think with our speed we’ll be there in just a few hours…before dawn.” While he had allowed himself this wonderful day, he was well aware it had to come to an end. Even though he had many female friends, Sidney knew he felt too much for a purely companionable relationship with the woman before him.
Charlotte worked to hide her disappointment, standing up tall. “Oh, well then, I wish you save travels and a happy life, Mr. Parker,” she said softly, extending her hand to shake his.
Sidney took Charlotte’s hand, his breath instantly leaving him. “I wish you every happiness, Miss Heywood,” he whispered and forced a slight smile. He took a deep breath and released her hand before stepping forward and reaching to unhinge the latch on her cabin door. “Good night,” he breathed, stepping back, bumping into Butter when he did—the dog trying to encourage him to stay close and kiss the woman with whom he was obviously infatuated.
“Good night,” Charlotte replied and stepped into her room. She stood with the door open for a moment and then slowly closed it, memorizing the image of the man before her who had stolen her heart and who she would probably never see again.
*****
Charlotte tapped her pencil on the paper as she regarded her rough sketch of Sidney. While she felt terribly silly for being so smitten in such a ridiculously short time, she knew the last twenty-four hours were among the best in her life and was confident she would want to have such a drawing to reflect on in the years to come. “Why couldn’t you have lived in Willingden?” she asked the likeness, shadowing his brow before laying the pencil down and placing her fingers on the bluebird pin her mother had gifted her. She had transferred the treasure from her chemise to her nightgown, trusting it as her protective totem and not wanting to be without it.
She’d tried to sleep but her attempt was beyond futile, which is why she had donned her robe, lit the candle, and begun to draw. Every time she closed her eyes, she’d imagine hearing Sidney disembark and was secretly praying there’d be some delay so she could have just one more day with him. “You know he’s unwed but that doesn’t mean he isn’t spoken for…he’s simply being courteous and gentlemanly to another traveler…as a favor to the Captain,” she tried to convince herself.
She let her mind wander to happily consider the various scenarios that might delay their arrival in France. While her mind created increasingly silly situations, she took Sidney’s stolen cravat from her robe pocket, his wonderful scent still present. After a few minutes, she shook her head and shoved the cravat back into her pocket. “Stop it with your girlish behavior,” she commanded harshly before gathering her art supplies and placing them in her trunk, securing the latches as she always did out of habit. Knowing the light of dawn would come soon, she blew out the candle and headed to her bed. Midway she stopped, attracted by an unexpected light outside. She approached the porthole and regarded what looked to be a lighthouse in the distance. “But…how?” she asked. Feeling something was horribly wrong, she swiftly headed to her uncle’s quarters.
“Uncle,” she repeated, her slight knock escalating into a pound.
“What’s wrong?” a drowsy Sidney asked, coming up behind her barefooted and dressed only in his robe. He’d been having a marvelous dream in which Charlotte was playing with their children at the beach and was barely awake at that moment, half convinced he was still asleep.
“Something is wrong. The land isn’t where it’s supposed to be. He said we’d follow the French coast but I see the coastline from my window. We’re going the wrong way…and we’re too close to the shore,” Charlotte explained, feeling she’d done a poor job of it as Sidney looked at her skeptically and then rubbed his eyes.
“I’m sure it’s fine,” Sidney said rather dismissively. “Probably just an unexpected course correction. Some bad weather ahead or something,” he added, holding out his arm and motioning for her to return to her cabin.
“It’s not fine,” she countered and grabbed his hand, roughly pulling him down the hall to her quarters. “Look!”
Sidney exhaled loudly and then glanced out the porthole, taking a few steps into her room to get a better look. He turned back to Charlotte, his face pale. “Stay here,” he ordered and dashed down the hall and then up to the deck calling for Butter as he did.
Under the fading light of the moon, he could make out not only the English coastline but the rocks ahead thrusting up from the sea. “Hoy! Hoy! Rocks Ahead! Rocks Ahead! Drop the sails, adjust course,” he shouted orders to the groggy crew. He grabbed a deckhand who was just waking by the collar and yanked him to stand. “Where is your captain, your navigator?” he asked, scanning the deck.
“I don’t know, Sir,” the young man said, his eyes widening as he finally spotted the rocks ahead.
“Get the jolly boat in the water!” Sidney shouted as he headed back down for Harry and Charlotte, Butter at his heels.
“The jolly boat is gone!” the deckhand screamed in terror as he desperately stirred the rest of the crew to their stations.
Sidney rushed to Harry’s quarters, the fearful yells from the crew above echoing down the hallway.
“Harry!” Sidney shouted as he banged against the door twice and then decidedly pushed through with his shoulder to find Harry crumpled on the floor. Instantly, Sidney was on his knees beside his new friend, cradling him in his lap. “We must go, the ship…”
“Sidney,” Harry breathed softly, barely able to speak. “Navigator…”
“What?” Sidney asked, not certain he’d heard the word as the terrified shouts from above deck filled his ears. “What did you say?” he repeated, lowering his head to Harry’s lips.
“Poison…you must…protect Charlotte. I am trusting you…keep her safe…” he uttered, his hands gripping Sidney’s chest desperate for his promise.
“I will, I promise,” Sidney committed, his mind working to understand all that was happening. Suddenly, he was thrust to the floor and screams echoed from all around as the rocks tore into the ship’s hull. Knowing they had no more than a minute before the vessel crashed in around them, Sidney gave Harry a brief respectful glance and a heartfelt goodbye before rushing to find Charlotte.
As he approached her cabin, he could hear her yelling for help, the door having jammed shut upon impact.
“Stand back!” he ordered, kicking open the door with his bare foot, the pain not immediately registering. He paused for only a moment, the sight of her surrounded by the fallen yellow roses Harry had given her was chillingly deathly. “Charlotte…” he eschewed any propriety and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the hallway, “…we must go, now!”
“My uncle, my…” she stopped mid-thought as the boards buckled under her feet. She glanced up at Sidney and from the look of sorrow in his eyes knew her uncle was already gone.
A barking Butter drew them from their sorrow and they promptly followed the dog down the rupturing hallway.
“Can you swim?” Sidney yelled as he raced up the stairs to the deck, his hand gripping Charlotte’s wrist mid-step to ensure she was with him.
“Yes, I’m a strong swimmer,” Charlotte shouted back, the sound of splintering wood thundering around her. Trying her best to keep pace with Sidney’s long strides, she kicked off her slippers that were slowing her and rushed with Sidney to the ship’s stern where he pushed aside the now split railing.
With his hand still gripping Charlotte’s wrist, Sidney placed his other hand on her shoulder, his eyes locked with hers. “Listen to me. If we are to live, we must jump. Do not swim to shore…we must find a rock or some inlet to hide in and wait them out…the wreckers, they will slaughter us…they will leave no survivors. Do you understand?” he shouted over the roar of the waves. “Do You Understand?!” he repeated.
Charlotte swallowed hard and nodded as Sidney shifted to grip her hand tightly.
“Don’t let go of my hand. The water will be cold…it will shock you but we must keep swimming. We jump on three!” he yelled, turning his attention to Butter. “Keep Charlotte safe,” he commanded, knowing his beloved companion would do just that. “One!...”
Charlotte held her breath and looked down at the churning sea, her mind desperately hoping this was all a dream.
“Two!...” Sidney yelled, gripping her hand even tighter.
The cold spray from the tumultuous sea soaked Charlotte’s linen robe, her chilled body confirming this was most certainly not a reverie from which she’d soon wake.
Sidney quickly glanced at Charlotte, praying that she survive and instantly offering his life for hers before shouting “Three!”