“Just one,” he said. “That I know of anyway. Though with the company my father kept, that is questionable.”
“Do tell us.” Lady Cosgrove placed her hand on his arm and leaned far closer than was appropriate.
“Perhaps another time,” Mr. Thatcher said. His lips pressed together as if to suggest to all that he would not be speaking on the topic.
Marsali felt disappointed and wished he would tell the story. But then, she wished he would say anything, that he would simply talk to her as he had at the start of their voyage.
It would have been most pleasant to spend the days she had left as she wished to spend them— with Mr. Thatcher.
Christopher brooded as he stared out at the ocean and began his second turn about the deck. His hands were clasped behind him, and his brow furrowed at the two warring thoughts running through his mind. I’ve done all I can to assist Miss Abbott, and now I must forget about her. Only a coward walks away. At the moment he felt the part of a coward all too well, yet he did not see what more he could do with regard to Miss Abbott’s perilous situation.
“And how is the young Mr. Thatcher this morning?” Captain Gower took up pace beside him.
“Young. And that is about all I am,” Christopher said, wishing not for the first time that he were a bit older. He’d yearned for that increase in age— to be older than Grace and better able to protect both her and Helen— for most of his growing-up years. To find himself with a similar desire now, when, at the start of this journey he’d had thoughts only of his youth and the time on his side for adventures, seemed almost a cruel trick of nature.
“Do not wish such a gift away,” Captain Gower advised. “The years will be upon you soon enough. Happens to all of us.”
“It was not age, precisely, that I was wishing for,” Christopher said. “Rather, I am in need of either means— which often come with age and a lifetime of work— or wisdom regarding a solution for this vexing problem with Miss Abbott.”
“Vexing now, is she?” Captain Gower’s grin further annoyed Christopher.
“Not she, precisely, but this bloody business with Thomas.”
“We don’t know for certain yet that it will be bloody,” the captain gently reminded him.
“Neither do we know that it will not,” Christopher said. “And given the facts and circumstances…” He didn’t bother finishing his sentence. It was the thought— Miss Abbott at the mercy of a cruel man— that had haunted him beyond distraction the past several nights.
“I take it your interview with Lady Cosgrove did not go well,” Captain Gower said.
“Not in the least.” Christopher sighed wearily. “She is not in a position to hire Miss Abbott or to pay for her passage. And even if she were, I am not certain there is enough… substance… in that woman to do something so charitable.”
“Ah.” Captain Gower clasped his hands behind his back in a manner similar to Christopher’s as they reached the stern and changed direction.
“It seems Lady Cosgrove is also at the mercy of a man,” Christopher said. “Her last monies were spent securing this passage, and she and Miss Cosgrove are now reliant upon the good graces of Mr. William Vancer, Miss Cosgrove’s intended, for their future well-being.”
“I suppose that explains, in part at least, why she was so eager to imbibe at dinner last night,” the captain said. “More often than not, the temptation of drink is the temptation of forgetting one’s troubles for a while.”
“I have seen it often enough myself.” Christopher recalled that the evenings his father had come home most drunk were often the evenings he had done poorly at the tables and when the debt collectors were most insistent.
“Let us pray— for Lady Cosgrove’s sake and her daughter’s— that Mr. Vancer has many good graces indeed,” Captain Gower said.
Christopher nodded. “The greatest of which had best be patience.”
“And longsuffering,” the captain added with a chuckle, referring to the brief Sunday service that had been held on deck that morning. “How old did you say the man is? Might he perhaps be blessed with a shortness of hearing?”
Christopher laughed. “I doubt he is that fortunate. Though at any rate,” his tone sobered, “he is more fortunate than Miss Abbott.”
“So my suggestion did not work,” Captain Gower said. “What do you propose to do now?”
“I am out of ideas,” Christopher admitted. “After Lady Cosgrove rejected my request, I had the thought that, collectively, myself and the crew might come up with enough funds to pay off Miss Abbott’s debt. I offered up my two pounds for the cause and marshaled Mr. Murphy into helping me speak to each of the men. Quite a few have become acquainted with Miss Abbott.” Of late, Mr. Luke had seemed more than acquainted with her, a situation Christopher found greatly annoying. “I had hoped they might be willing to throw in a shilling or two in her behalf.”
“A sound idea,” the captain said. “Though it is doubtful that many of the crew have more than a shilling or two in their possession.”
“That’s the whole of it exactly,” Christopher said dismally. Though he was one of the highest-paid crew members, Mr. Luke had come up with an entire list of debts he owed and had been unable to pledge much at all— less, in fact, than most of the other men. Mr. Jones had pledged twice as much as Christopher, and that had annoyed Christopher as well, though he should have felt thankful. “And so I have told myself that I must forget about Miss Abbott and her troubles. I have no means by which to assist her, and dwelling on it will surely lead to madness.”
A brief smile crossed Captain Gower’s face. “Women do tend to have that effect on a man, don’t they? Especially particular women, and I am not speaking of Miss Cosgrove or those like her. I’m speaking of those, like your Miss Abbott, who get under a man’s skin in such a way that he cannot forget her.”
“I am not certain what you mean, Captain,” Christopher said a little too quickly. “It is Miss Abbott’s troubling situation I am unable to forget or find the means to remedy.”
“Of course, of course.” Captain Gower stopped at the door to the saloon and gestured for Christopher to go inside. They both entered and walked the length of the room to the captain’s quarters. Captain Gower opened his door and again motioned for Christopher to go ahead of him.
He entered the captain’s private room for only the second time on this voyage and remembered the previous occasion, that first night aboard when he had been feeling slightly annoyed that Miss Abbott’s absence might delay their departure. How blissfully carefree he’d been that night with nothing to concern him aside from the sorrow he felt at taking leave of his sisters.
Captain Gower closed the door behind them and turned to Christopher, a far more serious expression on his face than a moment earlier. “You are wrong. About a few things. The first being that it isn’t simply Miss Abbott’s welfare you cannot stop thinking of. I’ve no way to prove this to you, of course. But mark my words, were you to find a solution for her situation, you would still be faced with a difficult parting at the end of this voyage. And wherever your travels take you in America or beyond, you would be unable to forget her.”
Christopher made no argument to this. He wished to but recognized the truth in the captain’s words, troubling though it was.
“The second thing about which you are incorrect,” Captain Gower continued, “is that you do not have the means to assist Miss Abbott, to protect her from harm, as it were.”
“Tell me, please, where I am to find these means.” Christopher spread his hands before him, palms up. He wanted to believe the captain but felt little hope from his words. But little was better than none. He might always remember Miss Abbott, but at least if he helped her he wouldn’t have to worry about her well-being or feel guilt that he had abandoned her to a terrible fate.
“To this point you have considered only a monetary solution.” Captain Gower crossed to his tables of inventions and began fiddling with the closest one. “When
there is another, quite obvious one available to you.”
“Continue,” Christopher said, curious as to what the captain had in mind.
“You must marry Miss Abbott.”
“Oh no.” Christopher took a step back as he shook his head. “Marriage and family are not for me, at least not for many years to come.”
“Family… hmm.” Captain Gower stroked his beard thoughtfully and continued as if he had not heard Christopher’s objections. “I am fairly certain that indentured servants are not permitted to have children, so it would be best to avoid any action that might… ah, lead to that for the next few years.”
“Did you not hear me?” Christopher asked, feeling his ire rise. He wishes me to marry Miss Thatcher, but in name only? What good will that do? “I have no plans to marry for quite some time— many years hence, if even then.”
“A man never plans these things,” Captain Gower said, a broad smile lighting his face. “They simply happen to him, most often when he least expects them and frequently at great inconvenience to him. Take my Amanda May. I had just received my first commission when she came into my life. Timing couldn’t have been worse.”
“Nevertheless, you had a commission,” Christopher pointed out. “You had a career, a means of income, something to offer the lady and a way to provide a roof over her head. I have none of those.”
“Bah.” Captain Gower waved a hand dismissively. “It isn’t what you don’t have that matters here. It’s what you do. Marry Miss Abbott, and go with her to Mr. Thomas’s. He can either put you to work as well and reduce Miss Abbott’s term of indenture by half, or you can find work nearby but stay at Thomas’s place with your wife. The point is that you will be close by, and Mr. Thomas will have someone to whom he is accountable for her welfare.”
“She is to be a lady’s maid,” Christopher reminded him. Stay… with your wife. “I very much doubt there is room for an additional manservant in that arena of responsibility.”
The captain shrugged. “Not likely, unless they do things quite different in Virginia, but Thomas runs a big plantation. There is a strong possibility he would hire an extra pair of hands, particularly if I recommend it. Didn’t you say you wanted to learn about farming? This could work well to your advantage.”
“Or it could not,” Christopher said shortly. He turned away from the captain and stood at the large, paned window as he stared across the sea. Less than a week, and we shall be in America.
“I cannot marry Miss Abbott,” he said once more, as much to himself as to the captain, for he could not deny the appeal the idea held. I would not have to bid her farewell. I could see that she remains safe. I could see her every day.
I’ve gone mad.
“Why can you not marry her?” Captain Gower demanded. “Do you find her repulsive?”
“Of course not.” She was anything but. From the moment that first night aboard ship when Miss Abbott had let the hood of her cape fall back and he’d glimpsed her face, he had thought her extraordinarily beautiful.
“Do her mannerisms bother or offend you?”
“No.” She makes me smile and eases the ache of missing my sisters. “I enjoy her company well enough.”
“Is she pushy and nagging?” the captain persisted. “Does she make insufferable noises? Do her feet smell?”
“No… How should I know about her feet?” Actually he did know about her feet. He’d touched them briefly the night he’d removed her slippers and tucked her into bed. “Those are all most absurd questions and undoubtedly have very little to do with the union of marriage.”
“True enough,” Captain Gower said. “Though you must admit that any of those traits in a woman might be cause for a man to have second thoughts.”
“I have not even had first thoughts on this matter,” Christopher assured him. Not until you mentioned it, in any case. “I am not in a position to support a wife. Furthermore, I do not wish to be tied to one location. I’ve yet to see America and should like to thoroughly investigate the country before deciding where I shall settle. I do not wish to be another man’s servant, and most importantly, I am simply not ready to be married.”
With that, he turned away, intending to retreat to his cabin and perhaps stay there until the voyage was over.
“It was merely a suggestion,” Captain Gower said. “One that would put your mind at ease regarding Miss Abbott’s welfare. And I note that you said you did not wish to be tied to one location. But you mentioned nothing about not wanting to be tied to Miss Abbott. Be honest with yourself, Mr. Thatcher. You have come to care for the girl. I have witnessed it myself.”
“She is little more than a girl.” As I am little more than a boy. Twenty-one was far too young for a man to marry— wasn’t it? Christopher did not want to be honest about his feelings regarding Miss Abbott, most especially with himself. Allowing his thoughts to venture that direction was surely the path of danger.
You must marry Miss Abbott. It had been anything but a suggestion, given here in the privacy of the captain’s quarters, and the captain well knew it. As did Christopher. He shut his eyes and muttered a few words his grandfather would have had him whipped for.
When he had composed himself once more, checked his anger, and thrust panic firmly to the back of his mind, he faced the captain once more. “You are that concerned for Miss Abbott as well, that you would suggest something as ludicrous as our marriage.”
Captain Gower nodded. “I am. The more I have thought upon my past interactions with Thomas, the more I must admit to seeing the signs of a cruel man, one who has little regard for the sanctity of life. There was another instance…” The captain’s brow drew together in a pained expression. “We were at a tavern, and the serving girl accidentally filled a glass to overflowing. Thomas had papers on the table, the plans for this ship, to be exact, and though we moved them quickly enough, he stood and struck the girl and sent her reeling. She fell and hit her head on a table corner.”
“Did the tavern owner not say anything to him?” Christopher asked.
“He yelled— at the girl. Thomas is too well known, you see. His coin is too well spent in many places for anyone to complain against him.”
My aunt and uncle were too well respected in Manchester for me to have hope of any sort of justice.
Christopher ran his fingers through his hair as Marsali’s words rang through his mind. She was headed to the same type of situation— or perhaps one even more dangerous.
Leaving was the only thing I could do.
Was marrying her the only thing that could be done now? “Thomas’s wealth and business reputation are why no one has taken up a case against him regarding the misfortunes of his servants.”
“Aye,” Captain Gower agreed. “I am certain you are correct.”
“Then why should we not simply whisk Miss Abbott away to safety elsewhere?” Christopher asked. “Pretend she did not show up in Liverpool or make this voyage at all.”
“The ship’s logs, the crew, even the inspector’s record in Liverpool all tell of her. Thomas may discover our deception. It’s too risky.”
For whom? “And my marrying her isn’t?” Christopher felt his face heat with anger. “Maybe Thomas will simply kill us both. Have you considered that?”
“Yes, actually,” Captain Gower said. “It is always a possibility, but doubtful, I would say. He is an older man and not in particularly good health. I cannot imagine that he would challenge you. If Miss Abbott goes to him alone, the outcome could very well be different. But you seem well able to defend yourself— and her.”
Goes to him. Alone. Christopher’s stomach churned at the image those words dredged up.
“No one will force you to this decision, of course.” The captain’s gaze left Christopher and returned to the inventions cluttering his tables.
No one but myself.
“For that matter, no one will force Miss Abbott to marry you. And now that I think on it, I believe it’s highly probable she will refuse.
”
At least one of us will exhibit common sense, then. “Thank you for that vote of confidence.” Christopher had not believed his mood could worsen, but the thought of Miss Abbott refusing such a generous offer on his part rankled him. No doubt she would accept a similar offer from Mr. Luke.
Captain Gower began searching his pockets, presumably for his pipe. “Not to say that she couldn’t be persuaded. But does Miss Abbott strike you as the sort of female who would accept just any offer of marriage? Do you imagine she will swoon with relief when you propose?”
“No.” Christopher doubted she’d ever swooned at anything. But it wouldn’t be just any offer. It would be for her safety.
“Or does she seem the sort used to self-reliance and who would have to feel strongly about giving up her independence?”
“Staying alive seems reason enough to me,” Christopher said. “And going to work for Mr. Thomas is certainly going to be restrictive of her freedom.” And mine. I am mad to even consider this, to be continuing this conversation.
“True, yet certain decisions will still be her own. But when one marries… never again does he or she consider himself or herself first, or alone.”
Unless he is like my father. The unbidden thought was disconcerting. I am not like my father. But Christopher’s arguments against marrying Miss Abbott ran through his mind, every last one of them self-centered. As my father was to his dying day.
It had taken his grandfather to point this out to Christopher, to help him realize that the root of his father’s problems lay in selfishness.
“There are times in your life when you must think of others above yourself,” Grandfather said.
“Times?” Christopher rose from his chair and stood before him defiantly. “My whole life has been about that, about watching out for Grace and Helen.”
“And a good thing too.” Grandfather wheeled his chair around the desk, closer to Christopher, as if to let him know he was not in the least intimidated by his strapping fifteen-year-old grandson. “Your sisters’ gentleness has likely saved you from a wasted life. By thinking of their safety and well-being, you were forced to become responsible, hardworking, clever, and quick thinking. You learned what it was to care for someone, to love them so completely that you would do anything to see them safe and happy. If only your father had learned even one of those lessons, if he’d had just one thought of your mother instead of himself…”
Marrying Christopher (A Hearthfire Romance Book 3) Page 18
