The Captain's Lady

by Jo Goodman

  Her decision to leave London had been made over two years ago. A destination had been established at the same time. But the plan unfolded slowly. It depended only on one person: Alexis. She reviewed the risks and the possibility of being caught, and decided what waited for her was worth taking the chance.

  There was a place for her in America. She knew it. The sailors who had become her friends during the time she spent at the river told her often about the sort of life she could have there. She had listened eagerly, anticipating what she would make of the opportunities. It was a young country. And wild. And there was a place for her there. She hugged herself tightly, pleased that she knew what she wanted and knew how to get it.

  She was finished with being teased for the things she held dear. Meg laughed at her for spending time in the park. Charlie accused her of whoring when she visited the harbor. None of that mattered now. It was all part of the plan. She had learned things in both places and now she would put her knowledge to the test.

  Alexis feigned sleep when she heard her sisters coming up the stairs and didn’t utter a sound as they crawled into bed beside her, pushing her out in the process. Ignoring their titters and giggles, she covered herself with the blanket she’d managed to drag with her and waited until she heard their even breathing before she dared to move again. Quietly she made her way down the stairs, secure in the knowledge that everyone in the house had followed her sisters’ example.

  She searched through the laundry hamper on the kitchen table until she found what she wanted. Her worn and faded shift was discarded in favor of her brother’s short pants and shirt. She took the best pair of stockings she could find and slipped into a pair of her brother’s shoes to complete her masquerade.

  Her knitted cap, a present from one of her friends at the wharf, she tucked under her belt. With the sharpest knife she could find grasped firmly in her hands, she deliberately chopped at her braids until they lay at her feet. She ran her fingers through her hair and tugged at the curls until she was satisfied she had achieved her purpose. She drew back, surprised, when she glanced at herself in the cracked glass.

  Tossing her head, she laughed softly at her reflection, liking her new look. Alexis pulled out her cap and placed it firmly over her head, hiding most of the stubborn curls. Taking only some bread and cheese, she left the house and walked hurriedly toward the river, never looking back.

  Even late at night the area was teeming with activity. She hid away in the stoop of a shop and watched the men with interest. Men well into their cups passed by without a glance in her direction. Cargo was being loaded on several ships and somewhere in the distance she could hear the sound of a ship’s bell. She leaned her head against the door of the shop and fell asleep, certain she would find a ship leaving for America in the morning and equally sure she would find a way to be on it.

  Alexis woke to the sound of her stomach rumbling and the odor of fresh bread nearby. A hand held out a chunk of hot white bread to her but before she took it she examined the owner of this wonderful prize. A woman smiled down at her. Her face, smooth and round, had tiny laugh lines at the corners of the eyes and mouth. Alexis smiled back, producing the brightest smile she could muster.

  “You look like you could use this, lad,” the woman said. Seeing the hesitation on the young boy’s face, she pressed on. “I have plenty. I made it fresh this morning. Why don’t you come inside the shop and have some?”

  Alexis shook her head, remembering she had her own food. “Oi can’t, mum.” She stopped. “I mean I can’t. Oi ’aven’t a shillin’…Oi haven’t a shilling. I ain’t a charity case.”

  The woman laughed. “Who said anything about charity? You come in and have some breakfast and you can clean my stoop when you’ve taken your fill.”

  Alexis took the bread that was offered and followed the woman into the shop. Inside, her mouth watered, and she felt an uncomfortable twinge of envy at meeting someone who didn’t know what it was like to go hungry.

  “Are you looking for a job on one of the merchants?” the woman asked while Alexis ate.

  “That’s right, mum. Oi expect ta get on a ship fer the States.”

  “You’re very young to be traveling so far.”

  “Sixteen. And now l’ave a good meal in me Oi’ll be strong as any wots older.” Damn. It was have, not ’ave. I, not Oi.

  The woman searched the intent features of the young ragamuffin. He was not the first of the children who thought they could flee London by signing up to go to sea. She doubted very many of them ever reached their destinations alive. Scurvy and foul drinking water were the demise of most of them. She wondered if she should tell him these things, then thought better of it. It would be a waste of breath if she was any judge of character. The firm set of that mouth and the determination of those amber eyes told her he would not be put off by what she had to say. His kind had horror stories of their own.

  Sighing at the injustice of it, she packed him a small lunch. When he was finished eating she handed it to him. “You sweep the walk and be on your way. I know one of the Thorton merchants is leaving this afternoon for Charleston. That’s in the United States.”

  “I know that,” Alexis answered.

  “Yes, of course you would,” she said dryly. “Well, you may be able to get on it but don’t tell them you’re sixteen. Try for fifteen and if they don’t want to have eyes in their head they may just believe you.”

  Alexis smiled and thanked her. As she swept the stoop she realized that while she hadn’t passed the age test very successfully, she had had no difficulty with the gender part. Her plan was going smoothly.

  The Constellation was not hard to find among the other vessels. Alexis was familiar with the flag of the Thorton Line as well as the type of rig they had. The Constellation was one of the newer merchants. She knew it had made only a few trips to America; its sides and underbelly were not encrusted with barnacles and the red-and-white paint used by the line had not peeled or splintered from the corrosive salt water. Alexis watched men loading cargo aboard for some time before she approached.

  Summoning her courage, she asked one of the workers if she could speak to the captain. He brusquely pointed out the direction she should follow.

  She had gone only a few steps when he called her back.

  “Ye lookin’ fer a job?” Alexis nodded. “Then don’t go lookin’ fer th’ captain. See tha’ man over there?” He pointed to a great bear of a man presently directing the movement of cargo.” ’E’s th’ one wot does th’ ’iring. Name’s Pauley Andrews. Maybe ’e can ’elp ye.”

  Alexis murmured her thanks and started to climb up the gangway, trying to ignore the growing knot in her stomach. She waited for a pause in the man’s activity before she sidled near.

  “Sir,” she said softly. He didn’t turn. More loudly, “Sir, I’m lookin’ fer a job.”

  Alexis managed to keep her feet firmly planted on the deck of the ship as the man swung around to face her. “Are you now? And what makes you think I’d have any work you could be doing?” He glanced at the pitiful specimen of a human being in front of him. They were getting younger all the time. If he had half a kindness in his heart he would send this one away. Pauley shrugged. He needed a helper for the captain and he didn’t have time to search for one. “How old are you, lad?”

  “Fifteen,” Alexis said firmly.

  “Fourteen’s more like it. Your voice hasn’t even changed.”

  “It will soon.” She cracked it expertly, the way she had heard her brothers do it.

  Pauley put his hands on his hips and laughed a deep, throaty laugh. “If that’s a sign of your determination to get aboard, then you’re welcome to cast your lot with the rest of us. Just don’t ever curse me for taking you. You’ll find it’s not the opportunity you think it is.”

  Alexis looked up at him, puzzled. Finally she said, “Why would I curse you? This is my decision.”

  Pauley laughed louder. “Making decisions at fourteen. I hope you
’re prepared to bear the consequences of those decisions.” He stopped laughing when he saw how the boy was looking at him. By God, the lad was serious. He shuddered to think of his own sons trying to get aboard a ship like this. And his boys were older and stronger than this mite. Still, the child seemed to know what he wanted and Pauley Andrews was not one to stand in the way of the grim determination he saw expressed in the face below him. He felt almost uncomfortable under the steady gaze of this child. He spoke to break the silence.

  “What’s your name, son?”

  “Alex.”

  “Is that all? Just Alex?”

  Alexis remained silent while she considered an option. She did not want to use the name of the people who had masqueraded as her family, but she had no other. Her eyes scanned the wharf, stopping when she saw the sign above the bakery. Why not? She had spent the first night of her new life on that stoop and the woman had shown her more kindness in one morning than she had known most of her life. She struggled to pronounce the name on the sign to herself. It would not do to get it wrong and her knowledge of reading was limited.

  “Danty,” she said. “My name is Alex Danty.”

  Pauley had watched Alexis as her eyes wandered along the waterfront shops and he’d also seen the object of her interest. He tried not to smile when she said her name. The sign read Pantry. If Danty was the name, then so be it.

  “All right, Alex Danty. Come with me and I’ll show you where you’ll be quartered. You’ll have to sign some papers saying that you took this job of your own free will.”

  Alexis was shown to a small cabin not far from the captain’s. “This is yours. You get a place to yourself because the captain will be needing you at all hours. He likes to have his cabin boy within bellering range. I’ll see about getting you some more clothes. I think the old cabin boy’s are still around.” He paused. “He’s dead, you know. Wasn’t strong enough. That doesn’t bother you, does it?”

  “Why should it? Oi’m strong enough. I’m goin’ ta mike it.”

  “We’ll see.” Pauley shrugged. He led Alexis to the captain’s cabin and had her sign the papers. She managed to write Alex well enough but Danty was a struggle. Pauley studied the signature and remained silent. He sensed the fierce pride in the young man and did not want to do anything to spoil it. He thought if there were time on the voyage he would even teach him to read and write a little. And do something about that accent. He was beginning to like the boy; he hoped he fared better under the captain’s orders than the last one.

  “One more thing,” Pauley added as he gathered the papers, “don’t get any ideas about leaving this ship when we reach Charleston. You’re in this for the duration, and that means the return trip to London.”

  Alexis almost lost her composure when he guessed her plan but she recovered quickly. “I know wot’s expected.”

  “We’ll see,” was all he would say.

  Alexis heard a lot of “We’ll see” in the weeks that followed. Pauley continued to tease her with those words whenever she firmly stated she knew something. But Alexis also knew he was pleased with her answers. She was not often wrong.

  Captain Whitehead had been angry with Pauley in the beginning for hiring Alexis. When the last cabin boy had been buried at sea he’d specifically stated he wanted someone older. But Alexis proved Pauley’s wisdom countless times by her unwavering service.

  Alexis often wondered how Pauley would react if he discovered she was a girl. She was pleased she had been able to hide the fact for so long. It helped having her own quarters while the rest of the crew slept in hammocks on deck. She was careful to bolt the door at night as Pauley suggested and she stayed away from the men who named her Pretty Boy, understanding the danger these men were to her.

  She thought if there was anyone she would want on her side in a bad moment it had to be Pauley. His brusque manner softened shortly after she came to know him better and his bulk was no longer a threat. She estimated he was at least six feet tall; yet he carried every ounce of muscle on his body as if it were no burden at all. He had thick black hair and his beard was equally dark with the exception of a few thin strands of gray. The outdoors had tanned his face, but he seemed ageless when he smiled and talked wistfully to Alexis of his home and family in the north of England. She was glad he had chosen to become her friend. The other men respected Pauley, so those who still thought of her as Pretty Boy stayed away in deference to her giant protector. Pauley had adopted her as a substitute son for the voyage, and nothing could have made Alexis more proud.

  Under Pauley’s direction she learned to use a pistol and handle a sword as well as her young hands could. Alexis did not mind that she was slowly developing the muscles in her arms and legs. It felt good to be strong and healthy. The food aboard the ship, usually salt pork or beef and biscuits, while far from good, was more plentiful than any she had had before, so her stomach had long since ceased reminding her of its emptiness at odd times. She proved adept at climbing the rigging and soon she could reach the flattened cap before any of the others. She called it her crow’s nest—so it had been named on ships long ago—and there was nothing to intrude on the contentment she experienced there. Far above the captain, the sailors who called her Pretty Boy, and the rolling deck, she found a place where no one could touch her.

  It was while she was up in the nest that the Constellation confronted a squall and she was struck by the curse. She did not know which was worse, the storm or the curse. At first she thought she had hit something when she noticed blood on her trousers between her thighs. In her panic to get out of the nest and safely to her cabin she slipped on the slick ropes and was barely able to break her fall by clutching at the mast.

  Pauley saw Alexis’s trouble and he hastened to a position below her. He watched as Alexis grasped one of the loose ropes and slid down perilously to the pitching deck. Pauley broke her fall and looked at her in disgust when he saw the burn marks from the ropes.

  “You’re supposed to climb down, not slide!” he yelled over the rising wind. “Get down to your cabin! You can’t help us here with those hands.”

  Alexis smiled weakly, trying to ignore the painful tightening in her abdomen. Pauley’s anxiety was the source of his rudeness. Aware of that, Alexis felt strangely comforted. She turned and headed for her cabin, careful of each step because the wind and salt spray were threatening to lift her away. She gasped when she felt Pauley’s strong grip on her arm. It was anything but friendly.

  She looked up in puzzlement but could not fathom the reason for his very real, very sudden anger. She tried to break his hold, but he gripped her more tightly and half pulled, half pushed her toward her cabin. He practically threw her inside and Alexis had to grab at the bunk to keep from sliding to the floor.

  “Wot’s wrong wi’ you, Pauley?” she yelled.

  He shut the door violently. “I should ask what’s wrong with you, missy? I don’t have time to find out what’s going on now. I’m needed topside. You get yourself cleaned up, and don’t you dare move from this room! I’ll tell everyone you were injured. In the meantime, you’d better have some good answers for me when I get back.” His blue eyes flashed dangerously as Alexis dropped her gaze to the blood on her trousers. He had found her out. Now she knew why they called it the curse.

  When Alex was alone she proceeded to tear strips of sheet and take care of her predicament as best she could. Becoming a woman was not part of her plan and she could not decide whether she was angrier with her body for turning traitor, or her mind for not having taken the possibility into consideration.

  Pauley did not return until the storm was over. He shut the door quickly and drew the bolt. Alexis saw that he was soaked to the skin, but her concern faded as he turned to face her. She met the fury in his blue eyes directly. She did not back away or cower as he approached and snatched the cap from her head. She allowed him to grasp her chin tightly in his hand and raise her head to study her face more closely.

  Finally, he droppe
d his hand and shook his head slowly. “I’ll be damned. I’ll just be goddamned.” He was silent for a while as if he were thinking of what to say next. “How long did you think you could get away with it?” he asked slowly.

  “Until I reached Charleston.”

  “Didn’t you count on your monthly?”

  “No.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of what is going to happen to you now?”

  “No.”

  Pauley sighed. “I’ll be damned,” he said again. He had been prepared to beat her when he’d come walking through that door. It was bad enough he had taken on a child, but to discover the child was a girl was too much even for him. She wouldn’t be able to hide the fact much longer and the thought of what would happen to her when the others found out frightened him even if it didn’t her. “What am I supposed to do with you?”

  “Why should Oi be yer concern? Oi’m the one in trouble.”

  “You can say that again, Alex. Damn! What is your name?”

  “Alexis. The last name’s still Danty though.”

  Pauley smiled, remembering the bakery. “And how old are you really?”

  She was going to lie, then thought better of it. “Thirteen.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  It took him over an hour to extract the entire story from Alexis. When she was finished he was certain there were things she’d omitted but he did not press her any further. He had to admit to a grudging admiration for the girl. It was clear she did not expect his pity, or even desire it.

  “I can’t take you to Charleston,” he said after a reflective silence. For the first time since he knew her he fancied he detected fear in her amber eyes. Reading her thoughts he added, “You won’t go back to London either. This storm may be the luckiest thing that ever happened to you, Alex. Because we were blown off course, the captain has decided to stop at a few ports in the Caribbean and unload some of the cargo there. That’s where we’ll unload you.”