Memory of Morning

by Susan Sizemore

  He nodded.

  I simply could not leave it at that. "And - the Dowager doesn't like you."

  "That, my dear, is for personal reasons. Our - family quarrel - has no effect on the services. Marqs and I are the best of friends. The Dowager knows he has my complete loyalty, and that goes a long way with her."

  They certainly seemed friendly enough from what I observed.

  "May I ask why you and the Dow--?"

  "No."

  "Of course. It is rude of me to enquire."

  "It is. You are fond of gossip, I take it, Doctor?"

  "I am. Alas. It is a failing."

  "And here I had heard that you are discreet and circumspect."

  "I like hearing gossip, my lord. I am not in the habit of spreading it."

  "But that is not fair. What do you bring to a conversational exchange where you learn others’ secrets, but you do not give secrets away?"

  "I am a doctor, my lord. People are always asking me for medical advice."

  "I see. But what do you do with the secrets you learn?"

  "I bend them and shape them and chew on them, then I make up stories with jigsaw pieces of them. I write fiction." At his frown I rushed to add, "It is a harmless habit, I assure you."

  "One would think so." He did not sound so sure.

  Hunting for a subject to take his mind off the subject of fiction, I asked, "Are you aware of the clerics railing against sailors on the Eastside?"

  "The Gracers." He chuckled. "Oh, yes. I know about them."

  "Their troublemaking is hardly amusing, my lord."

  Could he somehow support the Gracers? He had been present when I'd been questioned by them.

  "I wouldn't worry about the Gracers, Doctor."

  This flippant dismissal was most annoying. "Really? Have you been in the parts of the city where they are preaching? Where they are rousing factionalism? Do you have any idea of the tension the guards and Apprehenders are trying to contain? The Navy"

  "The Navy is my responsibility. Your advice on running it has not been requested."

  "Perhaps it should be," I snapped back.

  He should have been furious at me. Instead Lord North patted me on the shoulder.

  He. Patted. Me. On. The. Shoulder.

  I considered slapping him. But managed to grit my teeth and stay perfectly still.

  "You stand up for what you believe in. And you insist on speaking your mind when you think it important. You might have the makings of a ship's surgeon after all, Dr. Cliff."

  "Nonsense. I do not know if I'll ever be qualified for that duty."

  "There you are, Adrew!" A woman came toward us. Her gaze was only for Lord North. So was her smile. "We were to share a dance and dinner, and then you completely disappeared. I am most cross with you, Adrew."

  Lord North stood, and bowed to the lady.

  He did not offer me a hand to rise, so I took this as a sign that I was not about to be introduced to this newcomer. I stayed put and was ignored by both nobles.

  "I do apologize, Mihane," he said. "There was some business I had to attend to."

  I mouthed the word business? and heat rose in my cheeks. Though whether from anger or humiliation, I wasn't sure. After a moment, sanity returned, and I was rather glad of this treatment that relegated me so firmly to my place.

  I did not recognize the woman's given name, but from her diamond tiara and pearl-encrusted frock, I guessed that she was at minimum a countess. She was young, lithe, and quite attractive in a black-haired, vivid way. If she was Lord North's complication in his seeking a wife, I would say that he was a lucky man to be in the running for the hand of such a beauty. He elegantly kissed this lady's hand, took it, and walked away with her toward the ballroom doors. I was left to fend for myself. I waited a while before returning to the ball. I did not want it to be commented upon that I had left with Lord North, then trailed him in like an abandoned puppy when he reappeared with a woman more suited to be on his arm.

  When I did return to the ball, I managed to follow closely behind a pair of women, so I did not look to be alone. Fortunately, I immediately spotted my father lingering by the door.

  Mother came up a moment later. She leaned close to me and spoke softly. "By the All, child. I thought you knew I was joking when I told you to become the Emperor's consort."

  Tension went out of me in a laugh that was perhaps a bit too loud, but the orchestra was playing noisily enough for it not to be noticed. I hugged my parents, then the three of us went in search of the buffet tables. We ate. We listened, and applauded, when Belladem sang. There was other entertainment that I know I watched, but only Bell's voice registered in my mind. I danced several more sets, with people I knew. I held my head high, and my bare shoulders proudly squared, and pretended not to notice every odd look and overheard comment from strangers I would never know.

  Finally, the evening was over. I was able to pile into a carriage with a warm crowd of relatives and return to the safe privacy of the rental palace. By the time I went to bed, I knew that the sort throat and headache were caused by a cold and not the stress of the night. I fell into miserable, restless sleep, but I blamed that on the cold, as well.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  "The flowers have arrived, Meggie. You must come down."

  My shoulder was shaken. I opened bleary eyes to find that the enthusiastic voice which had woken me did indeed belong to Rhane. I heard curtains being pulled back across the room. So, I had at least two tormentors to contend with.

  "It is a beautiful morning," Ajaa's voice floated across the room.

  It was not a beautiful morning. I could hear rain pouring down outside. My head was stuffed, my chest congested. My head also ached, but I accepted that there was no escape from the tradition of viewing flowers the day after a ball.

  I sat up and rubbed aching temples. Star licked my chin. I looked at the smiling Rhane. "Did I get any bouquets?"

  "You have to see for yourself. You know that."

  I groaned, but got up. "I'll be along in a few minutes," I told the enthusiastic young women. "Go away."

  Rhane rushed off. Ajaa stayed to help me dress. Then we went down to the Green Parlor together. "Henner sent me a bouquet," she confided to me. "I asked him not to have it placed with the others, but he wouldn't have any of that. He called me a snob. He was joking," she added.

  "You went to the ball, you have as much right to a place among the tokens of affection as any woman who was there. And how can you be sure the flowers are from Henner? He hasn't told you they are, has he?"

  "He did," she confessed.

  I had to sneeze a few times and blow my nose before I could say, "Shame on him."

  Ajaa only smiled and shook her head.

  The Green Parlor was full of flowers, oh, and people as well, but it was the numerous colorful bouquets that drew my attention. The first thing I did, of course, was search among the vases and baskets to find any cards with my name on them.

  There were five addressed to Megere Cliff. Imagine that. I would have been content with one floral token of esteem, even if had been sent by my father. It would have been forced contentment, for I am as vain and greedy for attention as any woman who puts on a fancy frock and dances in public. One wants to know that the dance partners appreciated the effort. Though why women are sent flowers by men, but men do not expect token of appreciation in turn, I do not understand.

  Ajaa actually had three tokens. I assumed the dozen pale pink roses were from Henner. Perhaps he had informed her which were from him out of jealously.

  Abethe received three bouquets as well. Seeli six, Rhane, eight. Perhaps the fistful of daisies she clutched counted as nine. I suspected Dr. Heron had wandered in from the garden with them. Mother, Aunt Gwin and Aunt Edime each had a huge basket of blooms. From their husbands, it was assumed.

  As pretty as I found everyone else's flowers, it was my task and delight to attempt to guess who had sent tokens to me. I confess that I had no clue who
had sent the basket of forget-me-nots, no matter how charming this gesture was. I had no notion who had sent the single white rose, either, though I thought this boldly romantic of whoever it was. I could put names to the pink and the yellow roses, though which suitor had sent which I could not be certain. I could, without a moment's doubt, immediately recognize the sender of the fifth flower token. The bouquet was large and beautifully arranged, and made of dried yellow and purple flowers - gorse and heather.

  I stood in front of the vase and growled. An actual, angry, animal growl of fury. Though I put my hand over my mouth and pretended I was clearing my throat.

  Mother was standing beside me. She heard exactly what I was trying to hide. She put her hand on my shoulder. "What is it, dear?"

  "Lord North."

  I looked at the flowers so hotly it is a wonder the dry blooms did not go up in flames.

  "You think Lord North sent this bouquet?" Aunt Gwin said. "Why would a great noble send you flowers?"

  "She did disappear with him," Aunt Edime reminded Aunt Gwin. "And they danced, as well."

  "Yes, but--"

  "It is an insult," I cut Aunt Gwin off. "That is all it is. He once said something to me about gorse and heather and--"

  "Or it is a very romantic gesture," Mother interrupted me. "You can't keep all the lovely fresh tokens, now can you? But this arrangement is a keepsake. You can take it wherever you go. Lord North knows that you are attached to the navy, does he not?"

  "If someone sent me a dried arrangement, I'd certainly remember that token," Abethe said. "Perhaps he is trying to get your attention."

  I sighed, and shook my head. "None of you know Lord North. He is just what a great noble should be - arrogant, high-handed, sarcastic." He'd walked away with one of his own without a backward glance or thought. "I expected no token from him, but I certainly accept the insult."

  With that, I had a coughing fit, and went back up to my bed.

  I spent the next three days in that bed. It was the most debilitating and miserable of colds. I even felt bad enough to turn tending Star over to a footman. I slept and drank soup and herb tea and chased Tennit and Dr. Heron out when they tried to look in on me. I did let Rassi bring me the tea and soup, fluff my pillows, and provide fresh handkerchiefs. As a doctor myself I knew better than to try to stop the force of nature that is a very good nurse.

  On the fourth morning I dragged myself down to the bathing suite for a long soak and hair wash. I dressed, walked the dog, then joined the family for breakfast. The cold was still stuffing my head, but the symptoms were no longer as misery making as they had been.

  I was happy to see stacks of mail waiting on a sideboard. I found several envelopes addressed to me and sat down to enjoy communication with my tea and toast. I took a seat next to Mother, who was engrossed in a letter.

  I sipped tea and watched as her expression went from serious to unhappy. "What is it?"

  "This is from Alix," she said. "He is well, but we will not be seeing him any time soon." She sighed. "I had so hoped to have all my birds back in the nest for a while."

  "He can't get leave?"

  "He's not even at Scarpflow anymore. He posted this letter just before his ship sailed. He didn't say where he was headed, but he thinks it has something to do with a large meteorite having struck an island - if the navigator's calculations of its trajectory is correct. It looks like your sailor brother is off to mine for iron ore."

  "We all do that when we can, Mother." Battles are fought over the possession of iron meteorites, but I didn't mention this.

  "Well, I find it very inconvenient."

  "No doubt."

  She went back to Alix's letter. I picked up one of mine. The first missive was notification from the Imperial College Home that I was wanted there for a bleeding. It seemed a bit soon since the last one, in my opinion, but I reasoned that the local Red Fever outbreak was straining the vaccine supply. And I had missed quite a few draws while off on my nautical adventures. I didn't mention this summons to anyone, especially not the two other doctors sharing the breakfast table. Either or both would surely volunteer to come along to help. I certainly would. I put this message aside.

  When I picked up the next in the stack I was quite surprised to find an envelope addressed to me with the return postal identification of Commander Gate of the Moonrunner. I was very intrigued when I opened this letter.

  It turned out not to be from the ship's second officer. My correspondent was the helmsman, Mr. Waterman, the man who could speak to octopi.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I read:

  Dear Dr. Cliff,

  Mr. Cage kindly let me use his number so I could write to you. Please pardon me for this presumption. I mean no disrespect and hope you will forgive me. The thing is, I want to thank you for two things. The subscription to the Seyemouth lending library you arranged for me has done me a world of good. I thank you for this every time I open a new book. Recently I found a book at the library written by you - and I remember you asking me and the other sailors questions about our lives and what we thought and watching us as we went about our work and your telling us you wanted to put the things you learned from us into a story. I read your story, Doctor, and I've read it to crewmen who like to listen to stories and we all want to thank you for getting it right. Not just that, but for writing a novel about the likes of us at all. We hear that novels are about kings and nobles and gods and such folk that have nothing to do with us. Your novel told about a sailor like us, though smarter and braver and luckier. It was a good tale. Thank you for it. I hope you write another book like it. I hope you are well. The God of Waters bless you. Oh, one thing more, though I mean no disrespect - I wished you'd put an octopus into the story.

  With Respect,

  Able Seaman First Class Tham Waterman

  I sat back in my chair, stunned. Pleased. Embarrassed. Pleased. Someone had read my novel. And liked it well enough to tell me so. I was gratified - and a bit shocked at just how proud I was of myself. For a moment I basked in this totally self-absorbed warm feeling of accomplishment.

  Then the surprised annoyance set in. "My book is in the Seyemouth library!"

  I never meant this to happen. I meant my story for myself, perhaps family and a few friends. I did not mean to send this child of mine out into the world to make its own fortune.

  "I take it you have bad news concerning your novel?" Mother asked.

  "I take it that Professor Diamond has done you no favors," Father said.

  "In a way, he has." I passed the letter from Mr. Waterman over to Father.

  He read the letter then looked at me, a gleam of pride in his eyes. "I am glad to see that you have succeeded in what you set out to do. However, my friend Diamond and I will have what will likely be a loud and acrimonious discussion about his methods of spreading his radical ideas when I return to Avan in the autumn."

  "I do not like his using Meggie this way," Mother said. "Even if it is a very good book. I will have a discussion with Miss Apple about her collusion in this."

  I smiled, beaming upon my supportive parents. Though it seemed to me that we had had this conversation when Professor Diamond first took over the fate of my manuscript and it had done no good. I had come to believe that my former teacher was engaged in a private campaign to speed up the acceptance of fiction throughout the Empire rather than continuing the slow, steady spread of it out from the academic bastions of Avan and Cambre.

  "If you show Professor Diamond that letter, he will use it as proof that he is successfully passing on the love of words to all the people of the Empire, just as education should be spread," I said.

  "He is pushing," Mother said. "I fear some force will push back. I do not believe he has had to face questioning by the Committees of Grace yet, being so well-connected, but it may come."

  A chill ran down my spine. "I want nothing more to do with controversy."

  "Fortunately your novel is only a light adventure tale," Bellade
m said. "It is nothing like the radical meritocrat stories Professor Diamond writes. Not that they are not good books."

  "Ah, but Meggie's--" Father began.

  But he was interrupted by Mr. Butler stepping through the doorway. "A visitor for you, Dr. Cliff. Miss Dr. Cliff," he added when both Tennit and I looked at him inquiringly. "The gentleman says he has already had breakfast and has but a few minutes to stay. He is in the front hall parlor."

  I took his direction and headed for that parlor. I was certain who the gentleman was, and eager to see him.

  "Jame!" I called as I came into the room.

  "Dwie said you might be well enough for visitors today."

  "Visitors, and more, perhaps," I said. My heart was racing at the sight of him.

  He held out his arms and I ran into his embrace. "Kissing might not be healthy for you," I said. We kissed anyway. "I missed you," I told him when our lips parted.

  "I thought you might forget me among all your fancy suitors."

  I touched my forehead to his. "I forgot you not, my dear." We drew back a little to look into each other's eyes. His hands lingered warmly on my waist. "Thank you for the flowers."

  A smile lit his face and glowed deep in his blue eyes. "You guessed."