The Dreamer (10 page)

“I don’t mind. In fact, I probably prefer it. As your eyes never stop darting from one thing to another, and you always seem to run out of breath before finishing a sentence ….” He stopped and said nothing more.

I looked out at the horizon, too. However, I could not quite feel comfortable.

Masculine? He thought I was masculine?

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, a frown on my face.

*** *** ***

The first thing that hit me when we arrived in London was the odor. It covered the port like an invisible barrier that knocked one to the floor when one drew too close. It’s true, some of the sailors on the ship smelled, too. But with the wind constantly blowing, and fresh swimming water always available, it was nothing like the shore.

And the dirt! Coal dust and grime covered everything, from the streets to the stray animals. Raw sewage lay in the gutters, and one had to traverse the streets with strict caution.

We had to board a longboat to get to land. The ship, the Captain explained, sat too low in the water to get very close to shore. Many of the men stayed aboard the ship, including Mr. Finley. They would remain there until the cargo was unloaded and counted.

The port was a bustle of activity, and we were nearly swamped with people as soon as we touched our feet to the earth. Beggars asking for money, merchants selling wares and food, and prostitutes selling … well ….

Even for a modern woman, it was all rather shocking. The captain took me by the elbow and pulled me through the throng and towards a waiting coach as I stared around me in awe. On the way, a small child, a girl with dirty gold curls, held out her hand and said, “Tuppence, Captain?” and the captain called her by name and gave her a coin.

He helped me step up into the rickety contraption, and I felt it would tumble or collapse at any moment. There were two benches, one on either side of the small cabin, and I chose one arbitrarily. The captain followed me in and sat opposite me.

The carriage jerked into motion. “Is the plight of the poor like this throughout the city or is it restricted to this port?” I asked him. “Where do people in need find food, shelter? What is law enforcement like in the area?”

The captain’s brows came down in the way I knew meant he was concerned, though he looked angry. “The police are corrupt, and the poor are oppressed and forgotten.”

I turned from the window. Perhaps after the treasure is found, I might do something here.

I heard the heavy ringing of bells, and I stuck my head out the window in time to see a small, bricked church, complete with a steeple reaching up to heaven. It was humble and unremarkable, but it seemed significant somehow and I drew back into the carriage thoughtfully.

I looked at the captain and said lightly, “Finley’s afraid he’s going to hell to pay for all the things he’s done wrong. All his
sins
.”

“I know,” he answered noncommittally.

The bells stopped their ringing as I watched him. “What do
you
believe, Captain?”

“I think he’s too hard on himself.”

“Yet you don’t trust him.”

“I know his weakness. I don’t deny he is imperfect. But he’s done a lot of things right, too. I’ll never forget what he did for me.”

“For you?”

“Yes. He raised me,” he answered shortly. “And stayed with me when I ventured on my own.”

“Raised you? What do you mean?”

“I mean he raised me. After my parents died.”

I could only shake my head. “
Finley
a pirate? How is that possible? He’s so nervous and … weak. How could he choose such a daring, dangerous job for his career?”

The captain shrugged. “He had been an orphan, too. Grew up in work houses. He and my father met on a ship and became friends, and he followed my father.”

I watched him carefully as he spoke. “How is it you never turned to piracy, raised by them, even born of them as you were?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just couldn’t.”

“It would have been perfectly reasonable for you to turn in that direction, considering your upbringing.”

“Just because it’s reasonable doesn’t make it right,” he replied dryly.

The church bells began to ring again. They had a pleasant tone, light and engaging, like a simple, pretty song.

“Where are we going? To the merchants? To the ship owner? Will we take inventory soon?” I asked.

“First we’re going to the dress shop to get you something decent to wear before I take you to Lady Alistair.”

“Who’s she?” I asked.

“Friend of my mother’s. I stayed with her while I was in university.”

“You were at university, Captain?” I asked.

“For a short while, yes,” he answered, his gaze out the window.

“Why only a brief period?”

“It was an unsuccessful venture,” he answered succinctly.

I, who was a tremendous success with university life, could not grasp this. “Unsuccessful? How?”

“Some are made for university life and others are not.”

I was thoughtful. “I suppose it would be difficult for a boy raised on a ship by pirates to adjust to the confines and routines of rigid educational life. I suppose you felt you were imprisoned.”

“Something like that.”

“Do sailors often go to school?”

“Not often, no.”

“What was your ultimate goal in your education? Or was it merely a personal inclination?” I looked for my pencil.

“You touch those notes and I’ll tear them to shreds, child,” he said quietly.

With wide eyes I left them where they lay. He had used the tone he saved for the men when he was disciplining them. Everyone obeyed him when he used that tone.

I leaned back in the seat and watched the eighteenth century world go by. It was astonishing how quickly one can acclimate to any circumstances. It felt as though I already belonged here, even though I could not have been more an alien to it. A thought occurred to me. “You’ve stayed in touch with this Lady Alcester over the years?”

“Alistair.”

“Have you?”

A pause. “No.”

“And you are taking me to her now? Why?”

“She’ll know what to do with you.”

I looked down at my dress and said, “And my dress is unsuitable for this Lady Alistair?”

“Of course.”

“And why is that?”

The captain looked at me and exclaimed, “Don’t you know anything of fashion? It’s over thirty years old.”

“Oh. Then it is no longer fashionable?”

He clenched his fist and put it to his forehead. “No more questions, Rachel. Please!”

I turned and gazed out the window at the women passing in the street. They wore wide skirts, mostly in pastel colors, with lace caps. Silhouettes were widening at this time, transitioning, I knew, from the narrow, open skirts of the seventeenth century. My skirt, I noticed was narrower and opened down the front.

“What will we tell her? How will we explain things?” I asked without thinking.

But he didn’t answer. He just continued to look out the window, his shoulders tense.

“Captain? What will we explain to Lady Alistair?”

“I don’t know, Rachel!” he nearly shouted.

I was quiet, pressing my lips together.

Finally, the carriage stopped, and we alighted.

The shop was small and so crowded with wares I wondered if it was possible to turn in a circle. We found a shopkeeper behind the counter helping three young women. By the richness of their gowns and the overwhelming aroma of their perfume, I guessed they were wealthy.

The women turned at our arrival. Their smiles inexplicably froze on their faces when they saw us, and I thought one of them silently mouthed the words, “The Equestrian.”

Their business, evidently, was at an end and the women backed up, but did not leave the store. They politely bobbed their heads, their eyes on the captain, giving him plenty of room to approach the counter, which he did.

“I need a dress,” he harshly told the shopkeeper, an elderly man with a bald head and dim eyes. He gestured at me.

There was a gasp, and I turned and saw one of the girls with a hand at her mouth, her eyes wide and horrified.

He turned to the girls. “Would you quit staring like idiots. Heaven forbid you give your sordid little minds a rest.”

When he turned back to the shopkeeper, the girls cautiously backed away until they reached the door, and then they turned and hurried off.

I looked up at the captain, searching his face. It was set and withdrawn, and any camaraderie that had ever been between us was gone completely now. He determinedly avoided my gaze. He slapped his hand on the counter, making the shopkeeper flinch. “Well?” he demanded.

The old man looked at the captain resentfully. “Mr. Tucker, one of those girls was the daughter of Viscount Hillchurch. Another was the daughter of an Earl.”

“So?” the captain snapped at him.

The shopkeeper took a step back, and said kindly, considering the words, “I’m sorry Mr. Tucker. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. It’ll not do to have you runnin’ off me monthly customers for the sake of one order. You’ll have to find somewhere else, I’m afraid.”

The captain’s face, which was already flushed, turned a brighter shade of crimson. Without a word or a look to me, he turned on his heel and stomped out. I looked curiously at the shopkeeper and then followed him.

He nearly tossed me up into the coach. He bit out a new destination and climbed in after me. When he sat, he looked out the window and said nothing.

I watched him carefully, at how pronounced the vein in his forehead was and how low and ominous was his brow. After some moments of stony silence, he bit through his teeth, “You women are the most ….” He turned to me suddenly and exploded, “There, you’ve seen it! Now you know why I hate coming ashore. It is infested with simpering, judgmental and overdressed
women
. Give me a crew of cutthroat miscreants any day.”

I shrank against the seat at his vicious tone. No one had ever spoken to me like that. I had the urge to demand the coach stop so that I could escape him.

However, he was a fascinating case study. He intrigued me, though I didn’t quite know why. But I knew I liked to study him, and I also knew that if I could at last uncover and dissect him, it would be very gratifying. Though I didn’t reach for my notes. Shamefully, I didn’t even think about them.

I hesitated … only momentarily, but I did hesitate. I was not afraid per se, but like an experienced herpetologist handling a poisonous snake, caution was naturally prudent.

I slowly moved and sat next to him, keeping my eyes on him. He had turned back to the window and didn’t look at me, but I knew he was aware of me. In fact, almost imperceptivity, he shifted in his seat, giving me room.

“The situation is clear, Captain,” I explained, peering at him. “It’s all so simple. Your manners, though appropriate and necessary in the open ocean, are naturally unpleasant and off-putting on land when left unchecked. People get offended, and you, in your mortification, react with anger, making yourself even more offensive. It is a vicious cycle, and very elementary.” I put my hand on his sleeve. “Is it possible you haven’t realized this before now?”

He turned and looked down at me. “What on earth are you saying?” he grumbled. I could already perceive that some of the stress was gone from him, and that he only spoke harshly in an attempt to disguise his dawning relief.

I told him with a laugh, “I completely agree that such insular people are hardly worth troubling over, and I can fully appreciate the urge to offend their narrow minds further … but really, we are counterproductive when we do so, aren’t we?” I smiled.

He watched me soberly, and then in a move that surprised me, he turned his wrist and clasped my hand hard in his own. It gave me confidence to continue. “The solution is clear. The way lies before us, wide and straight and even. How is it that you didn’t see? You must squelch this desire to punish the land dwellers for their small minded arrogance and adjust your approach. This helps in so many ways. It pleases them and allows us to get what we need from them.” I laughed. It suddenly seemed very funny. “If you could have seen their faces as they so stealthily made their escape behind your back. As though you might lock the door to hold them prisoner.”

He shook his head. “Strange, strange child. You’ve never been afraid of me.”

The little space of the coach seemed to shrink suddenly and there didn’t seem to be enough room for both the captain and me. “Never, Captain.”

He nodded and gave my hand a pat and looked out the window again. We rode on wordlessly, but instead of tense, stony silence, it was with an air of contemplation.

“These people are priceless,” I said with a contented sigh. “It will be such a delight to me to study them.”

The coach stopped at a similar looking shop. Once again, we alighted.