The Captain of Her Heart

by Anita Stansfield

  Chapter Twelve

  SEPARATE REALMS

   

  The final days of the voyage were long and restless for Kyrah. Peter was amiable, and seemed to have forgotten their distasteful conversation. But Kyrah had trouble forgetting the things he’d said, and she hated him all the more, simply for the doubt he had manipulated into her mind. In Peter’s presence, it took all of her mental effort to remain focused on what she knew in her heart. Ritcherd did love her. And he would come for her. Somehow, she just knew!

  At the very least, she had difficulty trusting Peter’s motives, but she couldn’t rid herself of the one point he’d made that was likely true. How would she manage on her own in a strange land? She couldn’t answer that question, but she was determined to take it one step at a time. And with any luck, Ritcherd would find her before any further repercussions became a concern.

  She awoke one morning to realize that they had arrived in the colonies during the night—and Peter had already left the ship. Her heart quickened with anticipation and fear as she gathered her belongings, all too grateful to leave the tiny cabin that had briefly become her only security. She spoke briefly with the captain, who told her in his brusque way that they’d arrived on the heels of a storm and had made good time. He made it clear that she was free to go, and he would most likely consider her absence a blessing. Considering the way he unnerved her, Kyrah was equally happy to leave the Libertatia.

  It was raining hard when Kyrah made her way into a small port town called Hedgeton. Every face Kyrah met seemed either cruel or hard. She knew if she was going to survive here on her own, she would have to keep up that same stiff facade she’d practiced with the men on the Libertatia. Kyrah felt certain that if she acted timid and afraid, she would more likely be asking for trouble.

  Kyrah was relieved when the rain eased a bit. But as people passing by became less preoccupied with the storm, they became more aware of her. She knew she looked out of place, which only increased her hope that she could leave soon. Formulating a plan, Kyrah knew the first thing she had to do was find a place to stay. Then she could start searching for a way to return home.

  Once she mustered up the courage to stop someone and ask, it didn’t take much effort to find a boardinghouse. Kyrah wasn’t impressed with the owner or the other tenants that she saw, but the rooms were clean and it was near the pier. She found out how much it would be, then asked Mrs. Dodd, the owner, to hold the room and she would have the money before the end of the day.

  Mrs. Dodd peered curiously at Kyrah over the rims of her glasses and gave a grunt that Kyrah interpreted as an agreement. Kyrah turned and left quickly, praying inside that she could get some money before nightfall. The thought of what might happen otherwise was too dreadful to contemplate. Each time she asked for guidance or directions, it took all the courage she could muster just to speak. And several attempts left her with no information that would help. But her desperation forced her to be persistent, and she finally learned of a man who owned a cobbler’s shop, and also did buying and trading of precious gems. Though it broke Kyrah’s heart to think of selling the earrings, she had no choice. She was penniless, and they were her only means of survival. Kyrah kept the necklace hidden, not wanting the merchant to even see it. She intended to save that to buy her passage home.

  She found the cobbler shop easily enough, and knew immediately that this was the right man by his appearance. His hard, skeptical eyes were intimidating, but she approached him stoically, determined to barter if she must in order to get the most money possible.

  “What can I do for ye?” he asked in a voice that grated on her nerves.

  Forcing herself to appear tough, she stated, “I have some diamond earrings I need to sell. Are you interested?”

  “Aye,” he said. “Let’s ’ave a look.”

  His eyes lit up when he saw them, and he took several minutes to examine them closely while Kyrah’s palms grew moist with sweat. When he finally gave her an offer, it took her breath away. It was far more than she’d even hoped for. But she remained expressionless and told him that she knew they were worth more than that. She just had to have more.

  “I must say,” he scrutinized them again through his glass, “I’ve not seen gems s’ perfect in a long time.” He seemed reluctant to admit it, but for a moment Kyrah saw something almost warm in his eyes, as if he actually wanted to be fair. Kyrah forced herself not to become distracted by his report. It astounded her to think how much Ritcherd must have paid for them. She absorbed this reminder of his love for her, and the security he had unwittingly sent with her on this journey. Then she steeled herself to face this man appropriately.

  “Of course they’re perfect,” she stated. “I’m certain you can give me more and still make a fair profit.”

  He quoted another offer, and again Kyrah talked him up. When he stated his third price with a tone that indicated he would go no higher, Kyrah consented graciously and left the cobbler’s shop with more than twice the money she had hoped for. She tucked the money in a safe place and prayed that she would be spared from thieves or those who might do her harm. She stepped back into the storm, which had worsened. Then she hurried back in, wondering if he might be able to help her further.

  “Excuse me,” she said, and he lifted his head from examining his purchase. “Could you tell me where I might go to find passage to England?”

  He chuckled satirically. “Lady, there’s a war goin’ on. That’s one thing you ain’t gonna find right now.” His voice softened as if he’d sensed her discouragement. “Things change and you could keep tryin’, but I wouldn’t get yer hopes up.”

  Kyrah nodded politely and thanked him, but she felt sick inside as she went back onto the street. She wondered how long she would be stuck in this hole. She wondered if Ritcherd would be able to find out where the Libertatia had docked. And if there were no ships going out, there would be no way to get word to her mother. At least she knew that Ritcherd would have seen to her mother’s needs. Walking briskly through the continuing rain, Kyrah made a firm decision to only concern herself with the present. Otherwise she would go mad.

  Kyrah returned to the boarding house and found Mrs. Dodd to be far more amiable with money in her hands. Wanting to feel some sense of security, she paid for two months in advance, which included two meals a day. With that seen to, she went back into town to purchase some things she would be needing. After eating a good meal at an inn, she carefully chose a few simple skirts and bodices that would serve her increasing size, as well as underclothing, nightgowns, shoes and stockings, and a new burgundy-colored cloak. After her weeks on the ship with almost nothing, it was a pleasure to purchase a new hairbrush and mirror, bath items, needle, thread, and some dress lengths, as well as some fabric to begin making things for the baby. Last of all, she purchased a carpet bag large enough to hold all of her things in preparation to return to England—whenever that might be.

  Kyrah was exhausted when she returned to the boardinghouse just before dark. But considering the circumstances, she felt satisfied to know that at least things were going as well as could be expected. After eating supper in the dining room, she went upstairs and built a fire to ward off the chill of the storm. She cleaned up and slipped into new underclothing and nightgown. Impulsively she burned the clothes that had seen her weeks at sea. She felt it was a good omen in putting the episode behind her.

  Feeling cozy and secure, Kyrah surveyed her simple surroundings in the firelight. The only furnishings besides the bed were a couple of chairs, a small table, and a bureau with three drawers. But it was hers for the coming two months, and the security she felt gave her hope. She sat on the bed to count her money, and was pleased to find that she still had a fair amount left. With needle and thread she sewed the majority of it, along with the diamond necklace, beneath the lining of her bag. After putting her newly purchased items in their appropriate places, Kyrah went to bed feeling an ache of loneliness as her mind went inevitably to Ritcherd
. She did her best to ward off her concerns for the future. Its uncertainty was perhaps the most frightening thing of all.

  The following morning, Kyrah arose to sunny skies and some measure of hope. She was pleased to note that Mrs. Dodd’s cooking was favorable, and the hearty breakfast eased the smoldering in her stomach. Almost unwillingly, she hurried to the pier. Even knowing that it was ridiculous to think Ritcherd could have set out so quickly behind her, she couldn’t help hoping that he might arrive. The Libertatia was still there, and the only other ships docked had been there when she’d left the previous day. She asked around and discovered that no ship had come in since the Libertatia.

  Kyrah quickly settled into a routine that included regular visits to the pier. She had only been in Hedgeton a few days when she saw a ship approaching, and her heart beat quickly as it slowly moved closer. Shading the sun from her eyes with her hand, Kyrah could see the seemingly tiny outline of sails against the horizon. She thought of Ritcherd, trying to imagine him on that ship. Picturing clearly what he might look like standing at the bow, her excitement increased as the ship drew nearer and the sails became more defined. By the time it finally came to shore, she felt weak with anticipation.

  Watching the sailors on board busily lowering the sails and dropping the anchor, Kyrah convinced herself that Ritcherd would appear at any moment. When the gangway was lowered, she continued to watch as several colorful-looking men filed ashore. She moved back and was careful to stay out of the way, biting her lip tensely—hoping, praying that he would come. Kyrah noted that this ship was smaller than the Libertatia, with only two masts. But the sails looked much the same. On the hull was painted Charming Sally. She thought the name suited it well.

  Gradually the activity on the pier subsided. When it seemed that everyone who was coming ashore had done so, Kyrah stared numbly at the docked ship for another hour, not wanting to let go of that last shred of hope that Ritcherd might disembark. When a rise of nausea reminded her that she had to return home and get something to eat, she approached one of the sailors from the Charming Sally.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she asked, gratified to realize that she didn’t feel afraid to talk to him. She concluded that even in her few days here she had become more capable of taking care of herself.

  He turned and gave her a curious glance, but his eyes were kind as he replied, “What might I do for ye?”

  “Was there a Captain Ritcherd Buchanan on board your ship?”

  “‘Fraid not, ma’am,” he said, shaking his head and showing a smile. “Never ’eard of ’im.”

  Kyrah only realized how his statement must have affected her when the sailor’s voice startled her. “Is somethin’ wrong, ma’am?” he asked.

  “Uh . . . no. Thank you.”

  Kyrah hurried quickly back to the boarding house, deflated and lonely. She reminded herself that it would logically take Ritcherd time to make arrangements and find his way here. She had to be patient. Trying to be positive, she turned her thoughts toward the next ship that might come into Hedgeton.