The Hawk and the Jewel (Kensington Chronicles 1)

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The Hawk and the Jewel (Kensington Chronicles 1) Page 6

by Lori Wick


  “Who taught you?”

  Some of Sunny’s confidence deserted her, and she went on in a hushed, troubled voice. “He was an Englishman. Until I came onto Brandon’s ship, I thought the man was my Uncle Graham, brother of my dead father. I realize now that this couldn’t be.”

  John and Cheryl looked to Brandon for some sort of explanation, and he quietly told them Sunny’s story of how she was found after the storm and taken to the emir as an infant. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room until Cheryl broke it with a gentle question.

  “You said that you were versed in all things English, Sunny. Please tell us about the rest.”

  Sunny took the offered lifeline, effectively pushing from her mind the bearded English face of her so-called uncle.

  “I am familiar with all of your religious beliefs. They are of great interest to me, as I am more accustomed to everyone having the same beliefs. I am also trained in your history. England has warred with many nations. I do not like war. Darhabar is a peaceful country.” The pride was back in her voice, and she smiled at her hosts.

  Listening intently, Brandon realized how much Sunny had told about herself in the last minutes. He had wanted to question her at times, but was reluctant to make her feel as though she were being interrogated. He knew that was the last thing she needed from him.

  Brandon praised God for Cheryl’s gentle way of talking to her and the way Sunny seemed to blossom under the attention. Not many minutes passed before Cheryl was taking Sunny from the room to show her the baby’s nursery. Breathing a sigh of relief after her exit, Brandon was ready for a break from his young charge.

  “Tell me, Hawk, how are things going?” John’s question was as sensitive as the man himself, and even though they were alone, his voice was low.

  “I think they’re well, but a few things bother me. I’m not sure if I should be checking into them or putting them behind me, content that Sunny is going home.”

  “Were you able to gain any clues as to why they let the girl go?”

  “No, and that’s one of my biggest concerns. I had no time alone

  the man who delivered her to me, and at the time I was hesitant i cause a scene. You see, Sunny knew nothing of my arrival.” I, “Are you serious?” John’s voice spoke of his surprise.

  **She was told she could tour an English ship when it came into Inert. She was introduced to me as though I was just any captain on fcthe sea. After her tour they gave her something to drink; the drink

  .drugged.”

  John continued to stare at his friend as Brandon related the en-story. John’s eyes grew large as his surprise turned to astonish-icnt on hearing that Sunny had jumped overboard.

  “By the time I got her back in the cabin, all I wanted was to /move out of those waters and take her as far from Darhabar as pos’sible. I knew if I stayed, she would only attempt another escape, and after all these years, I was not about to lose her again. Before I met Sunny I felt more reasonable. I viewed her coming home with a certain amount of detachment. But after meeting her, my emotions took over. After I’d seen her, all I cared about was her comfort and safety.”

  John nodded in complete understanding. There was something very vulnerable about Sunny Gallagher. She was a proud beauty and seemingly in control of every move, but if one watched long enough, one could see the tiny cracks in her armor, cracks that gave away the feet that she was little more than a frightened child.

  “She doesn’t care to be reminded that she’s still a child.” Brandon voiced his friend’s thoughts. “But she is, and I am committed to seeing her home and safely into the arms of her family.”

  “We’re praying for both you and Sunny, but I think you know that, Hawk.”

  “Yes, I do, and I thank you, John.” A brief silence ensued while both men digested events of the day. Brandon shifted, seeking more comfort in his chair, and asked, “How is the mission work going?”

  John, always willing to talk about the way God was using him and Cheryl, began to share about his work. Cheryl and Sunny were still not back, but for the moment the men didn’t notice. They might have been surprised to know that there was an equally intense conversation going on upstairs.

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  “If you are English, why do you live here?”

  Cheryl hesitated over her answer, reluctant to use the word “missions” or “missionaries.” “John and I love Freeport, not just the country itself, but the people. We have something we believe in very strongly, and feel a burden to share it with others.”

  “What do you share?”

  “We share our belief that the Bible is God’s Word, and that His Son, Jesus Christ, is the Savior of the world.**

  Sunny looked thoughtful. “I wonder what Brandon believes. He reads often, and when I asked him about the book, he said it was his Bible. Do you and Brandon believe the same Bible?”

  “Yes, Sunny, we do. What do you believe, Sunny?” The question was put very gently, and the young girl responded to the warmth in Cheryl’s voice.

  “I believe as Indira does.”

  “Indira?”

  “My mother in Darhabar. She believes that we have no control over anything on this earth. All things are ordered, and what is to be will be. The emir believes that we control our own destiny, but of course he would feel that way, seeing as he’s a man.”

  Her voice carried a note of cynicism, and Cheryl asked carefully, “What does his being a man have to do with it?”

  “Men control everything in this world,” Sunny told her logically, and with complete assurance. “You must realize that since you’re married. John’s word is everything, yes?”

  The word “no” sprang to Cheryl’s tongue, but she quickly stifled it. How in the world could she deal with such a dictatorial belief without making a mockery of God’s perfect plan for husbands and wives?

  “John and I have a partnership, Sunny,” Cheryl began. “He is the head of our home, yet he’s also a servant.”

  Cheryl stopped when she saw a look of total confusion cross Sunny’s face; she’d said it all wrong. If only Sunny were staying longer in their home, they would have a chance to show her what their marriage was like. Cheryl opened her mouth to try and repair the damage, but John chose that time to call her from downstairs.

  “Come on, Sunny, the men are looking for us. Maybe we can talk later.”

  Sunny didn’t seem at all put out by the interruption and moved down the stairs with a carefree step. Cheryl would have been alarmed

  to learn that responding as soon as her husband called only proved to Sunny that her belief was correct-Freeport, England, Darhabar; they were the same. Men ruled all, especially the women.

  “How many horses do you have?” Sunny’s face shone with enthusiasm, and John smiled.

  “Why don’t we head out, and I’ll show you.”

  Sunny was out of her chair so fast the adults laughed. All rose to accompany her, and when they reached the back door, Cheryl spoke.

  “Go ahead with John, Sunny. I’ll be along in just a moment.”

  The two did as she bade, and when Brandon would have followed, Cheryl stopped him with a hand to his arm. He glanced at his hostess and then at Sunny and John before quietly shutting the door again.

  “If you were able to stay longer,” Cheryl began, “I would not interrupt you right now, but I think you should know about the conversation Sunny and I had upstairs.”

  Brandon listened quietly, his face serious, while Cheryl relayed nearly every word of the exchange she’d shared with Sunny. “I don’t think I handled it very well, Hawk, but she’s cynical, and rather resigned to the way she believes life is. I’m sorry if the things I said have only made the situation harder.”

  Brandon’s hands came to her shoulders, and he bent and kissed her cheek. “There is no reason to be sorry. Sunny adores you, and it’s done her a world of good to be in your company. Hopefully she’ll feel free to question me about the Bible now. I’ve been hesi
tant to say too much, hoping that the first questions would come from her.”

  “In Sunny alone you’re going to be dealing with what John and I encounter every day-a distorted view of God. The first thing Sunny needs to understand is that God does not view women as second-class citizens.”

  They were walking toward the stables now, and Brandon thought, not for the first time, what a gem John had for a wife. Brandon voiced his sentiments.

  “I hope John knows what a find you are. It’s too bad I didn’t meet you first,” Brandon teased.

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  Cheryl laughed. “Well, there’s Judith, but Dex has snapped her up.”

  “I could wait for Lynn,” Brandon teased, referring to Cheryl’s youngest sister.

  “She’s only nine,” Cheryl laughed.

  “True,” Brandon said with a charming smile. “But I’m not ready to tie the knot just yet. At least with your father’s money I’d know she wasn’t marrying me for my own.”

  There was something in his tone that caused Cheryl to stop just outside the stable door. “Is it as bad as all that?”

  Brandon shrugged, but his eyes were pained. “That, and the title I’m in line to inherit, seem to make me quite a catch.” Brandon’s voice turned sad. “No one seems to be interested in finding out that I prefer tea to coffee, that I love walking in the rain, or anything else about me as a man. I certainly don’t want a wife who dotes on my every whim, but I’d sure like a woman who would love me even if I were penniless or without a title to my name.”

  Cheryl touched his arm but remained silent. There wasn’t anything to say. They were dose enough, however, that there really was no need.

  the wind caught at sunny’s hair and tugged at the skirt of her dress. Her bare feet were cold on the deck, but she took little notice. Today she was 14. She smiled into the wind for just an instant.

  Brandon had been out of the cabin early so she had dressed slowly. She now took careful inventory of her body. Her chest was still as flat as it had been ten weeks ago when she stepped aboard the ship, and there was still no definition between her waist and hips.

  It was now so clear why Indira had wanted her to accept herself as she was. She knew the truth. Sunny tried to accept that fact herself, but it was hard. She took a moment and thought about the feet that looks and body shapes could run in families. If only she knew what her mother looked like.

  **If only I could see her, just for an instant, I might know some rest.”

  “See who?”

  Brandon was suddenly at her side, her shoes in his hand. She shot a long-suffering look in his direction and then bent to put them on.

  He watched as she slipped into them, then smiled into the flushed face she had raised to his. She didn’t blush often, and he wondered over the thoughts he had obviously interrupted.

  “Would you like to be alone?” he asked with his normal sensitivity.

  “Not really,” she spoke as the embarrassment faded. “I was just thinking about my mother.”

  Brandon nodded. “Anything in particular?”

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  ttl was wondering what she looked like,” she told him softly, looking younger than her 14 years.

  “She was a beautiful woman, with hair the color of yours. Her eyes were dark blue, and people said she had the warmest smile in all of England.**

  Sunny smiled at the image, but her eyes were troubled. He had said nothing of her frame. She looked out to sea as her heart ran with ways of asking what was sure to be an inappropriate question.

  In Darhabar, or rather in the emir’s palace, a person’s body was considered a thing of beauty. Sunny was starting to see that this was not so in England, at least not on this ship. Whenever she came from her bedroom in just her underclothes, Brandon would tell her to get dressed. Her underclothes alone covered more of her body than any of her clothes in Darhabar, but to this English sea captain, it was not enough.

  And she had never seen Brandon’s unclothed body; not that she particularly wanted to. But he seemed to go out of his way to protect her from seeing something with which she was all too familiar. Almost from the day she had arrived in the palace, she had been wandering in and out of the servants’ rooms or Poppy’s bedroom.

  Then of course she had lived on the edge of the harem, where nudity was not only commonplace, but expected. Most of the women were very proud of their bodies and would have been highly amused at the English way of covering oneself.

  “Something is troubling you,” Brandon commented softly. “Can you tell me what it is?” He’d been studying her profile closely and wishing, as he did often, that he could read her mind.

  “I want to ask you a question, but I’m afraid you’ll be angry with me.**

  Brandon’s brows rose on this. “I’m sure you would agree that I don’t anger easily.**

  “That’s true,” Sunny agreed with a wry smile, thinking of how many times he should have beaten her. “But this is personal. This is not something the English talk about, and I know you want me to be English.”

  “YouareEnglish, Sunny, and you’re going to be living in England, but I’m not trying to wipe away every moment of your past. If there is something I can tell you, I will.”

  Sunny looked out to sea again and then turned back to Brandon.

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  He watched as she crossed her arms over her chest as though trying to protect herself.

  “I want to know about my mother’s body.** These words were uttered in a great rush, as though she were afraid of not getting them out.

  Brandon’s face gave nothing away, but he was calling himself every type of fool for not reading her worry over her own figure much sooner. Until that moment he’d completely forgotten how she had been led to believe she was older. His voice was calm and gentle as he answered her question.

  “Your mother was fairly tall and her figure was lovely. She carried herself with grace and confidence.**

  Sunny’s disappointment with this description was more than evident. She turned back to the sea, and Brandon hesitated, not wanting to embarrass either of them but knowing she needed to know more.

  “Your mother had womanly curves, Sunny, but she was not heavy,** he tried this time.

  Sunny’s head turned back immediately, her eyes alight with yearning. “You mean she was not fat?**

  “Yes, I do, but I also mean that she was not overly endowed.”

  Brandon saw in an instant that he had lost her, and found himself wishing that Chelsea were here. He knew that if Sunny wanted him to be much more specific, he would be blushing like a little girl.

  “What is this ‘endowed’?**

  Brandon saw no hope for it; he would have to be more candid. “What I mean is that she was not large-breasted or full-hipped.**

  To his credit, he did not blush, and Sunny’s face cleared as though a heavy load had been lifted from her mind. Such simple words, but they were enough to put her mind at ease. With her questions answered, she looked out over the waves.

  “Indira was heavily…endowed.** She struggled with the word for a moment and then proceeded. “She had very full breasts and hips,” Sunny went on without looking at Brandon. “Were you to see her, you would see that it was not at all hard for Poppy to marry her.”

  Suddenly all Brandon’s embarrassment evaporated. “God’s perfect plan is for husbands and wives to enjoy each other in every way, but how a woman looks is not as important as what’s on the inside.”

  “That may be the case in England, but in Darhabar, a man wants beautiful daughters so he can find husbands for them.”

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  “How do the women feel about that?**

  “It doesn’t matter how they feel,” Sunny stated in a surprised voice. “They have no choice. No woman has money of her own, and without a man, she cannot survive.” Sunny sighed on this note. “I find myself wishing I had money.”

  “Why?” Brandon asked, although he was quite sure he knew the answer.

  “So I can s
tay single. I never want to be controlled by a man.”

  Brandon found himself mentally thanking Cheryl for clueing him in on Sunny’s view of marriage. “You don’t think you’ll find a man who will cherish you and love you enoughnotto dominate you?”

  Sunny shrugged. “He would still have the money, and thus, the power.”

  Brandon debated over telling Sunny what was on his mind, and swiftly reasoned that she would be told soon in any event.

  “You have money of your own.”

  Sunny turned slowly away from the railing and took a step closer to Brandon. Her hands took hold of the front of his cloak. She searched his face for signs that he was teasing and found none. Brandon went on in a soft voice.

  “I believe I told you that your Grandmama Sunny never believed the news of your death. She never changed her will, and left you more than half of her wealth. If you’re careful, you have enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life.”

  Brandon had no trouble interpreting Sunny’s thoughts now. Her eyes had slid shut, and her whole body had slumped with relief. The smile she sported was one of quiet rapture.

  “Do you have a birthday gift for me, Brandon?” she asked softly, having opened her eyes.

  “Yes.”

  “I won*t need it,” she told him in a fervent whisper. “You’ve just given me the last gift I’ll ever need-freedom. Now my body needn’t be a worry.” She met his eyes for just a moment before once again going to the rail.

  Brandon left her then. He was somewhat pleased by the peace he saw in her eyes, a peace he’d had yet to witness, but as he went below and settled at his desk, his prayer was that the peace would not last,

  “Don’t let the money be enough, Lord. Give her a special restlessness until she searches for You and learns what true freedom can be.”

  sunny’s birthday supper that evening was to be in the large dining room that Brandon shared with his officers on other voyages. First Mate Flynn and the ship’s bos’n, Kyle, were to join them. Decked out in their finest togs, both men arrived as Brandon stood critically eyeing the room with its dark mahogany furniture. He wanted everything to be perfect before going to claim his young charge.

 

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