Miles Before I Sleep

by Byrd, M. Donice

  “I love you, Andi.”

  Andrea stood up, walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

  ~*~

  When Phillip arrived an hour later with a tray filled with lavish food, Andrea came out of the bedroom to receive the young server.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Huntington,” Phillip greeted warmly. “I trust you slept well.”

  It was uncertain who turned redder, the waiter or Andrea. The common greeting seemed to take on new meaning when speaking with a young bride.

  “Yes, quite well, thank you,” she managed, answering the same as she had to a question posed to her many times before.

  Miles was quick to note her rigid posture and pleasant smile. How easily she covered up her emotions for appearances’ sake.

  “The chefs came into the kitchen early this morning to prepare a special breakfast for our newest family member. Everyone is pleased that you have married Mr. Huntington.”

  “Thank you, Phillip. Perhaps later today I shall go to the kitchens and thank everyone personally.”

  “Tomorrow would probably be better, ma’am. The captain has ordered a feast to celebrate your nuptials. I fear you would be underfoot and seeing the worst of everyone today.”

  Her smile at the exuberant young man widened. She leaned toward Phillip as if imparting a secret to him. “Thank you so much for warning me. Be sure to tell them how much we praised the food when you return the tray later. Perhaps you can feed any uneaten food to the fish so no one has their feelings hurt.”

  He smiled fondly at her and Miles suddenly understood much more about Andrea. The way she treated Phillip and the way she would greet the kitchen staff would win them over. He had no doubt that she had been trained to do so—because that was what a perfect wife would do.

  “I had to sneak your porridge onto the tray so no one would be offended. I know it’s your favorite.”

  “How thoughtful of you, but I hate to think you would risk raising the ire of the chefs on my behalf. On such an auspicious day as today, I may have to abandon my usual fare to celebrate.”

  Phillip removed the dome and left the stateroom, leaving Miles and Andrea alone to their awkward silent meal.

  With a deep sigh of resignation, Andrea sat down at the small table and cut off a bite of a decadent looking pastry. She chewed slowly then swallowed the bite. A moment later, she did the same thing with a current scone with lemon glaze, then a pastry that resembled a woman’s breast. One by one, she worked her way through the courses she had never eaten before. One bite of each.

  She uncovered a small metal pot and discovered something yellow and crumbly inside. The façade on her face slipped away as she peered into the unknown substance. A matching shell-bowled spoon sat adjacent to the metal pot and Andrea dipped the spoon in to examine the strange substance further.

  “Egg yolks,” Miles provided. “From hard-boiled eggs.”

  “Is that some kind of American delicacy?”

  “Let me show you.” Miles picked up a metal gravy boat and poured the lumpy white contents over a plate of toast points. He then picked up the egg yolks and sprinkled them on top. “The chef calls it Eggs à la Goldenrod. It is essentially creamed eggs. If you liberally salt and pepper it, it’s quite tasty.”

  Andrea picked up the salt and pepper and gave her plate a light dusting. With her fork, she touched one of the cube shaped lumps. “These are the egg whites from the boiled eggs?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Using her usual refined table etiquette, she cut off a corner of the toast, and making sure she had a little of each component, took a bite. She set her knife and fork down while she chewed then picked up the salt and pepper, furiously shaking on more before tasting it again.

  “Better. Do Americans call egg yolks goldenrod or is that just for this dish?”

  “Just for this dish. Goldenrod is a wildflower that at certain times of the year, leaves yellow dust all over your clothes if you walk too close.”

  Andrea nodded and rose from the table. “Would it be possible for me to have a bath?” she asked.

  “I’ll see to it immediately.”

  “Thank you,” she said and disappeared into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

  Miles stared at the closed door and then at the scant breakfast she ate. As his eyes drifted back to the heavy oak door separating them, he wondered how to deal with her silence. She was so hard to figure out because she covered up her feelings so well. Was she angry or hurt? It didn’t appear that she had been crying, but breakfast had arrived more than an hour after he told her—more than enough time to cry and for the evidence of tears to vanish from her face.

  Apparently, to let others see the tension between them was not good form. She had come out of the bedroom with a nonchalant air when Phillip arrived. No wonder her parents never knew she had found Richard’s letters. Other than her unwillingness to carry on more than a rudimentary conversation with him, she gave no outward sign of her mood.

  Miles ate a few more bites before succumbing to his own lack of appetite.

  Their day progressed pretty much as it had started. She said and did all the things expected of her in front of others, but as soon as they were alone, she retreated to the bedroom. She never raised her voice or slammed the door. No unkind words had passed her lips. Even during the wedding feast the captain had ordered, Andrea smiled and said all the proper things, but barely glanced at him. She allowed him to hold her hand on top of the table without the slightest protest.

  To his way of thinking, the silence coming from the bedroom was more deafening than yelling. At least if she vented her ire at him, he would know what she was thinking and it would give him something to work with.

  Promptly at 9:00 PM, Andrea opened the door a few inches, but when Miles peeked in, he could see she had gutted the lamp and gone to bed.

  He took the lamp from the sitting room and entered the bedroom.

  “I’ll just change now, so I won’t wake you up later,” he said when she lifted her head to watched him.

  She plumped her pillow and returned to her previous position.

  “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be ready to listen,” he said.

  Her eyes popped open, but she did not speak. She just stared at the shadows on the wall directly in front of her.

  When Miles had stripped down to his unmentionables, he stepped over to the bed and squatted down in front of her.

  “I am sorry, Andrea. I’m sorry I let Richard and your father handle the details. I’m sorry I let you believe your assumptions. I’m sorry that you are hurting right now. I’m even sorry you had to jump from the window because of me and hurt your beautiful delicate ankle—which, by the way, I intend to kiss often during the next fifty years. But I’m not sorry we are married, nor am I sorry that I had to wait five years to do so. You are worth every second.”

  He cupped the side of her face with one hand and felt her slight withdrawal. Instead of kissing her as he had planned, he stroked her cheek twice with his thumb before rising to his feet.

  “Good night, Andi,” he said, reaching across her for his pillow. “Since you aren’t able to talk about it yet, I’ll assume you don’t want me in your bed.”

  36

  It was still the middle of the night when Andrea woke up. Knowing that he was sleeping just on the other side of the door made her feel trapped inside his bedroom. She also felt guilty that he had given up his bed and was now on a sofa that in no way could accommodate his tall form. Normally, when she felt pensive, she would have pulled out her sketchbook and filled the page with quick line drawings of faces with eyes in the shadows wearing dark expressions that reflected her mood. But she had not brought her art supplies with her.

  After an hour of trying to go back to sleep, Andrea climbed out of bed and lit a lantern. As quietly as possible, she dressed, blew out the lantern and taking extra care, opened the door that separated the sitting room from the bedroom. There was barely enough moo
nlight coming in through the porthole to illuminate the outline of the furniture. She glanced at him as she slipped past and left the suite, unlocking and opening the door with exaggerated slowness, hoping not to make any noise.

  Midnight forays were not unknown to Andrea—eating the bowl of bread pudding was not the first or the last time she left her bedroom at night. She did it at home and at school and the only time anyone found out, was the night she ate the bread pudding. When home from school, she would sneak out to the rose garden to sit and think. Before they had moved to Mayfair, she would escape to Lord Stemple’s garden when he was having a party and watch the festivities from the bushes.

  At school, she would wander around the empty classrooms, sometimes reading the teachers’ plans for the upcoming classes or comparing her grades to her classmates’. Once she went to the stables, but the horses would not stay quiet and woke up the groom who slept in the building. He lit a lamp, giving her advanced warning of his approach and she was able to slip out unseen.

  Andrea spared only one glance at the door before she briskly left the corridor behind. She knew even at night, a crew of sailors manned the ship, so she looked in each direction before walking onto the deck. No one seemed to be about. She stepped up to the railing and watched the way the moonlight glistened on the waves and the paddlewheel chopped into the water. She stayed there until a sailor rounded the corner unexpectedly. They both startled and Andrea lifted her head and walked past him as if being on deck in the middle of the night was perfectly normal.

  She entered the first corridor she came to and began looking for a place where she could be alone and soon found herself outside the main saloon. During day and evening hours, the double doors had been fully open, but now—she supposed, to tell the passengers that the saloon was closed and they were not supposed to be there—the doors were shut. Andrea turned the knob and finding it unlocked, let herself in.

  The saloon was an interior room, completely devoid of light.

  Andrea carefully picked her way to the back corner of the room where the grand piano hid a small seating area from the rest of the room. As a child, she might have sat under the piano or on the floor behind the furniture. Although she was hiding, in case the sailor informed the mate she was wandering about, she preferred to keep her dignity and not make it obvious.

  It would not do to have anyone come upon her crying, so she kept her emotions in check as she sat rigidly on the edge of the tapestry-upholstered sofa. Unaware of her posture, as it was second nature for her to sit erect, Andrea was only conscious of her stillness as she stared into the darkness, feeling completely at odds with her emotions.

  Had she known her father had betrothed her to Miles, she would not have run away, nor would she have spent the last year miserable and studying bookkeeping. No doubt, she would have married him without too much objection. But it was the deceit she couldn’t see past. He could have told her from the beginning or once he revealed he knew her identity, and given her time to get to know him to see if they would suit. Instead, he let her believe as soon as her parents arrived, she would be forced to marry Rory.

  Suddenly, Andrea heard voices and saw light under the crack below the door. She held her breath as the door opened and Miles walked in with a sailor.

  “Check in there,” Miles said, pointing to an area where the waiters went to fill the drink orders.

  As soon as the crewman took his lantern into the side room, Miles cast his light around the saloon. He did not see her at first, but as he swept his arm the second time, he saw a bit of color from her skirt visible past the legs of the piano.

  “She’s here,” he said to the sailor. “Let everyone know they can stop searching.” Miles grabbed the man’s arm before he could depart and spoke to him in low tones that she could not hear.

  Miles waited until they were alone to approach her. “You scared me half to death. I thought you might have thrown yourself overboard,” he said, setting the lantern on the piano.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

  A slight smile threatened to lift one corner of Miles’s mouth at her tart reply. Not only did it give him an indication of how upset she was, it was also one of the few times she had put him in his place. It always pleased him when the Ice Princess melted away and he could see her true self.

  “Why are you roaming around alone on the ship in the middle of the night, Andi? I would’ve been happy to come with you—even if you wanted me to stay ten feet behind.”

  Andrea shrugged. “I don’t know. I felt restless. The room wasn’t big enough,” she said before a humorless chuckle escaped her lips. “Your ship isn’t big enough.”

  He leaned in and corrected her softly. “Our ship.” Miles took her hands in his. “Do you suppose that restless feeling is due to our marriage?”

  She shook her head in denial. “I’ve always known my marriage was just as likely to be unhappy as happy.”

  His shoulders dropped and the corners of his mouth drew downward. “I’m sorry I’ve made you unhappy. It is the last thing I ever wanted. I have botched this up from the beginning. Is it so terrible that I am the man to whom your father betrothed you? You liked me enough to marry me. Does it matter that I am also the man your father hand-picked?”

  “You have no inkling what I’m upset about. I am hurt because everyone lied to me. Mama, Papa and you all lied to me about one thing or another. I think I have every right to be mad.”

  “Yes, you do. I should have gone behind your father’s back and written to you at school. But there was a problem. I wanted to get to know the young woman I had met at the ball, not the girl on the pier. I didn’t know what to say to her. She was just a child and I was a grown man—it felt immoral. Honestly, Andi, if Richard’s health remained good, I probably would have waited another year or two before I claimed you.”

  “If you didn’t like who I was, why did you say yes?”

  “Don’t you see? I did not fall in love with the girl on the docks; I fell in love with the woman I had met in the Kincaids’ ballroom. I was devastated to find out your real age. But I also knew if I agreed to the betrothal, the woman I had danced with would be mine. I knew you would grow up into that woman. And you did.”

  Andrea pulled her hands away and stood up. “You dare to lie to me again?” she shouted. “You only asked me to dance because my mother asked you to fetch me. You wanted to take me out in the gardens so no one would see us waltzing together. When I refused, you intentionally picked a fight with me.”

  “That is not true,” he said vehemently. “I wanted to take you out into the gardens to get you alone for few minutes, so I could get to know you better. You might have even gotten your first kiss that night. And I would hardly call my needling you, picking a fight. I was trying to get past the façade you wore to see the real you. The mask both fascinated and vexed me. I wanted to see what was hidden beneath.”

  Andrea weighed his words, wanting to believe him. “There is a low-born girl behind the mask. That is why I wear it. That girl sneaks out of her room at night and steals food out of the mouths of servants. She looks at the teachers’ notes for future lessons so she can get ahead of the other girls and no one will think she is unintelligent.”

  Miles grinned at her. “So this sneaking out at night is not an isolated incident?” She shook her head. “I wish you could see that she is the woman I want to get to know. I am no higher born than you. My father was a sea captain just like yours. My mother’s people farmed the land. I love the woman who wanted to see the steam engine because she wanted to see the future and the one who ran away from home to prove she could run her father’s company. I want my children to have a mother who would not name an imaginary constellation something mean-spirited because it was beneath her. Nor would she punish our children severely for sneaking bread pudding in the middle of the night. She is the woman I want for my wife, not some emotionless lady who would sell her happiness away for a title.”

  Andrea felt her façade slipp
ing away. Her lower lip trembled as emotion threatened to overwhelm her. “My mother hates that girl,” she said quietly. “She has tried to rid me of her since I was six.”

  Miles had her in his arms in a heartbeat. “Thank heavens she did not succeed.”

  Slowly, her arms came around him and her body relaxed against his. “I love you, Miles.”

  He pulled back from her and looked into her face. “I love you too,” he said smiling widely at her. “Do you forgive me?”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled as she grinned at him and nodded. “It would be beneath your wife to hold a grudge.”

  He laughed and his arms constricted again to hold her securely, rocking slightly. “I’m famished. What do you say we raid the galley?”

  “We can’t!”

  “Of course we can. It’s our ship we can do anything we please,” he said. “And after we eat our fill, I can use my key to enter Levi’s quarters. We can steal his shoes.”

  Andrea laughed and snorted then laughed at herself for snorting. “You’re truly wicked. But you don’t know the proper way to sneak around at night. We shan’t steal his shoes. He would know we were there.”

  “Then what should we do?”

  “I had a teacher who would leave her spectacles on her desk. I would put them in the pocket of her apron. She never once realized someone was moving them. I propose we pilfer a pair of his trousers. I could shorten the hem in less than thirty minutes then we must return them.”

  Miles laughed. “And you called me wicked.”

  37

  Miles found himself reluctant to release her so they could leave. “It seems like an eternity since I held you.”

  “I did not think I could miss something so new to me,” she said shyly, pulling back enough to look him in the face. “I have only been married for twenty-four hours, but I have longed for our time together all day. When I close my eyes, I can almost feel you. Do you suppose we might go back to our cabin now and I shall endeavor to do it right this time?” She said it with an impish smile that implied she knew there was nothing wrong with the way they had made love.