by Hays, Lara
I pursed my lips slightly, staring at the way the sand squished between my bare toes with each step. Dozens of crabs darted this way and that, giving the illusion of shifting sands.
He tilted his head down, trying to look at my face. “Tessa?” he asked.
“Hm?”
“Tell me what you are thinking.”
“Just thinking about you. And me.” I blushed at my boldness, glad for the camouflage of night.
“And what are those thoughts?”
“Just that in a way, we are both very much alone in this world. Nowhere to go. No one to belong to.”
“I saved your life, so I think you belong to me,” he teased. He lifted my chin and pressed his lips to mine.
“Fair enough,” I countered back with a smile, “but if I belong to a homeless renegade, where does that leave me?”
He skipped in front of me excitedly, and walked backwards so he could face me as he spoke, “Does it really matter, Tessa? I have that ketch. That is all we need. We’ll go to London. Just the two of us. It will be a fresh start. Whatever you’re afraid of, don’t be. Everything will be fine.”
He stopped walking and took both of my hands in his. His words tumbled out breathlessly. “Look, I don’t know everything. I haven’t got it all figured out yet. I don’t know what you came from, or what you expect. But I think we fit. You and me. Two homeless renegades. Belonging to no one but each other. And, so, we will make our fate as we go. That is all I can promise. But it’s all that I want.”
“Nicholas,” I started, unsure of the pounding heart in my chest, “back in London, I knew everything. I knew my place. I knew the type of person I would marry, what kind of vocation he would have, where I was likely to live. I knew every step I would ever take.”
Nicholas stared at me intently, eager for my response.
I paused for a deep breath then continued. “That all changed when my father died. It’s been so unsettling not knowing what the future holds. I have nothing. No one. I gave my life up as a lost cause, thinking I would die any moment. Now, it is as though you have given it back to me. And it’s like…it’s like an unopened gift. I don’t know the next move anymore. It is still unsettling, I can’t deny that. But…” Nicholas dropped his head slightly, peering more earnestly into my eyes, “…making our own fate. I like that.” I smiled broadly and confidently repeated my new conviction. “We will make our fate as we go.”
He planted a swift kiss on my lips, then began running down the beach, pulling my hand. “Come see my boat!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Laughing, we ran hand in hand down the moonlit beach, the gentle waves splashing in our wake.
“Why didn’t you anchor in the harbor?” I asked.
“The jollyboat’s there,” he pointed. “That’s where I started my search. Besides, she’s small enough that she moors just fine in shallow waters. Look at her. Isn’t she great?” Nicholas was beaming.
We splashed through the tide and climbed the jack ladder up the side of the ship to the deck. Nicholas bounded across the ship’s waist, throwing his arms wide in presentation.
Still catching my breath I managed to gasp, “It’s wonderful.”
A single deck stretched the entire length and width of the ketch. Though it was easy to see that the vessel was old and worn, it was well taken care of. The boards of the deck were scoured clean with tar tightly sealing every seam. It looked as though it had once been painted black, but it was faded to a charcoal grey. Two masts stretched from the deck. The canvas sails had been patched in several places. I fingered the massive spokes of the ship’s wheel, located towards the aft of the vessel. I imagined the days ahead, Nicholas—or possibly even myself—at the helm, the endless turquoise seas, gulls crying overhead with a hearty ocean wind filling the sails.
Nicholas opened a hatch in the deck and climbed down a ladder. I followed without bidding. I squinted into the darkness, trying to make out my surroundings. The ladder led into an opening that extended the width of the ketch—a foyer of sorts. I could barely stand erect without grazing my head on the low ceiling. Nicholas had to hunch to navigate the room.
A glassed-in porthole on either side let the bright moonlight in. A large, square, wooden table was bolted to the floor. Nicholas opened the two doors on the forward side of the foyer. The starboard door revealed a roomy galley with a small, iron stove, mismatched cupboards, and crates that served as chairs. The portside door concealed a small cabin full of crates and barrels.
Two doors similarly graced the aft side of the wide foyer, opening into two spacious cabins. Aside from the furniture secured to the walls and floor—a chest of drawers, and a desk—one cabin was entirely bare, though three portholes made it very welcoming. The other cabin was obviously Nicholas’s quarters. Though identical to the room next door, it was fully furnished. I was surprised to see a four-poster bed piled with blankets and pillows. A plush, though tattered, armchair sat in the corner. Wrought-iron sconces dotted the walls.
“This is beautiful,” I breathed.
Nicholas beamed as he grabbed an armful of pillows and blankets off the bed, then hurried up the ladder to the deck. His energy was contagious and I found myself following his every move with laughter and excitement.
“Here,” he said, picking a spot on the deck and tossing the bedding down. “Perfect for stargazing.” He plopped onto the pillows and gestured for me to join him.
I nestled into the comfortable pile and Nicholas wrapped an arm around me, tucking a soft blanket under my chin. I laid my head on his chest.
“What a clear night,” I murmured staring at the gilded sky.
He absentmindedly stroked my hair. “Mmm,” he agreed.
“So many stars.”
It felt so natural lying in his arms. My heart beat placidly, my breathing easy. It felt like home.
“Sometimes when I look at the stars, I think of my mother.”
“How old were you when she passed?”
“It happened when I was born. I never knew her.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Some people say that it was better that way—that I wasn’t old enough to remember her or miss her. But in some ways it is harder. Maybe I do not know exactly what I miss about her, but I still do. And there aren’t any memories to help fill that void of what she would have been to me.”
“You know, many cultures believe that the stars represent those who have passed on,” said Nicholas. “A sky full of angels. It seems to me you’ve done the same. What a beautiful way to memorialize her.”
“I like that.”
I was captivated by the beauty of the million twinkling lights above. It seemed so wrong that just a few nights ago I found the stars cold and harsh. I felt sorry for that thought and somehow wanted to apologize to the stars above for thinking such a thing. “There is nothing more beautiful than the stars at sea.”
“I can think of one,” Nicholas whispered, pulling me closer.
I snuggled even deeper into his side, sighing with happiness.
“I have always heard that sailors use the stars.”
“Most definitely.”
“How?”
He pointed out a constellation—a bowed line of stars. “Do you see those stars?”
I shifted until my face was right next to his so I could see where he pointed. Our closeness made my heart flutter. Trying to concentrate, I followed the line his finger made. “Yes.”
“And then here,” he traced a square at the end of the line of stars.
I nodded.
“That is the starry plow, though others call it by different names—the Butcher’s Cleaver, Churl’s Wagon, the Great Cart. The Dutch call it the steelpannetje—the saucepan. It is part of the Ursa Major constellation.”
“I see it!” I said happily, seeing the shape of the seven bright stars. “But I have to say it looks more like a saucepan than a plow.”
“Look here, where the two stars form the edge of the plow—or the
edge of the pan, if you will.”
I nodded.
“Follow the line those stars make,” he drew an imaginary line along edge of the pan to a brilliant star blazing in the sky, “and then you find Polaris.”
“The North Star.”
“Aye. The most important star in the sky to any sailor.” He adjusted slightly so he could look at me. I continued to stare at the sky. I worried that if I took my eyes off the constellation, I wouldn’t find it again. More than that, I was afraid that if I looked at Nicholas, every coherent thought would fall out of my brain, and I was enjoying this moment far too much for that.
“Why?”
“It never moves; it is always directly north. Helps any navigator determine their latitude—how far north or south they are. Explorers have used it for centuries. Anyone can set a course by that star—it never fails. I’ve always thought of her as my angel in the night. Keeping me on my course, never letting me down.”
I nestled closer, laying my head back on his chest. Nicholas cradled me there against his heart, tucked securely under his chin. I could feel the soft rumble of his speech and the steady thrum of his heart. It was a comforting feeling. Staring at the North Star, in the warmth of his arms, I thought of the moment I met Nicholas and all that transpired since. I remembered the many times Nicholas had been there for me, never letting me down, even when I doubted him. My angel in the night. And though I couldn’t know what would happen tomorrow—if I would be dining extravagantly or choking down hardtack—I did know that I could set my course by him. He would be my North Star.
With the countless stars glittering around us, I felt as if we were the only two people in the universe. We talked late into the night, sharing secrets, telling jokes, watching as the swollen moon glided across the sky. I didn’t want the moment to end. But I realized that when we set sail, my dream would come true—every night would be like this. We really would be the only two people in the universe. This moment would last forever.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
We remained on the island for three more days. Nicholas had tentatively mapped out our voyage. We were much farther south than I had imagined—about a dozen leagues off the coast of New Granada. Because I was British and Nicholas was a wanted pirate, we would be unwelcome in most of the ports along the Spanish Main. Our only choice was to make port at pirate havens. This still held some danger since Nicholas had been branded a mutineer and a deserter and I would be—as he put it—a desired commodity among such immoral company. But we would only port as often and as long as absolutely necessary.
Our first stop would be Curaçao where we would stock up on supplies. Though Nicholas had used most of his gold to buy his freedom and had little to barter with, he was sure we could figure something out. I was afraid he meant stealing, but I didn’t dare ask. He knew I didn’t approve of such things, but because our survival depended on it, I did not pry. I convinced myself that ignorance was indeed bliss. If I was unaware of illegal activity, I couldn’t be upset about it. We would continue north, stopping in New Providence for supplies, then aim for Bermuda. From there, we would sail to London.
We had two options for establishing a life in London. The first was for Nicholas to sign on as a sailor with a merchant ship. No one in London knew he was a pirate, so it should be easy enough for him to gain employment, especially as a seasoned seaman and a trained carpenter. Or—and this was the option that I rather preferred—I could solicit help from my father’s associates in helping Nicholas establish a carpentry shop. If we were unhappy there, we’d set sail and try again somewhere else.
Mother Ivy was quite generous and gave us plenty of food stocks for our journey. She told me I had earned it. With the help of Liam, Nicholas and I scoured the island and found things we could use for bartering in ports. We loaded the ketch with beautiful shells, natural fibers, and piles of coconuts.
When the day of our departure arrived, I hugged all the girls from the bordello and even Mother Ivy. I saved my goodbye for Liam until the last.
“Goodbye,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You were a true friend to me.”
“I don’t want you to go,” he said, trying to be brave.
“Don’t forget me. I will never forget the handsome, brave man who saved my life.”
Liam smiled tensely and I could see moisture welling in his dark eyes. He pulled something out of his pocket—a necklace he’d made from beautiful shells and carved wooden beads.
“It’s lovely. Here, help me put it on.”
Liam slipped the necklace over my head and quickly kissed me on the cheek.
“Thank you.” I kissed his cheek and made him blush.
With my farewells said, we climbed aboard the ketch, and Nicholas unfurled the sails and hoisted the anchor. We drifted out with the tide. I waved and waved to Liam, who was perched on the promontory watching us sail away.
Nicholas was able to man the small ketch himself. I found myself admiring him as he climbed into the rigging and set the sails to catch the wind. He had such strength yet moved as easily as a bird on the wing. The wind tossed his hair and whipped his shirt, and I blushed when I caught myself staring at his well-muscled chest.
Once the sails were set, Nicholas led me to the helm. Standing behind me and guiding my hands, he helped me steer the ketch into the bright sea before us.
“Now, as a matter of ceremony, we have to sing,” Nicholas announced as he turned the wheel.
“Sing?”
“Aye, pet. Bad luck if we don’t sing a sailing song as we set out from the harbor.”
“Like an invocation hymn?” I asked naively.
Nicholas laughed loudly. “I’m sorry. Did not mean to laugh at you. You are just so...you’re quite endearing. No, we need to sing a chantey. A sailing song.”
Slightly embarrassed, I muttered, “I’m not familiar with any chanteys.”
“I will teach you. Most chanteys are designed to allow sailors to coordinate their strength to the rhythm of the song to get tough jobs done.”
I nodded, familiar with the nearly constant, boisterous singing heard upon any ship.
“But there are a few other special chanteys,” Nicholas continued. “Those sung only when sailing home and those sung only during departure. This one is a fine sailing song. It celebrates the adventure waiting for us. And it’s suitable enough for a lady’s ears,” he added with a wink.
With no hesitation he belted out his song:
Set us out to sea, my boys
Western winds are blowin’
Fill the sails and ride the waves
Ain’t no need for rowin’
Blow Ye Winds
And Take Me Away
Across the Seven Seas
Hey! Hey!
Blow Ye Winds
Not a Finer Day
Across the Seven Seas
Hey! Hey!
Set upon the blue, my boys
Can you say what’s yonder?
Ain’t no need to stop just yet
There’s a big world to wander
Blow Ye Winds
And Take Me Away
Across the Seven Seas
Hey! Hey!
Blow Ye Winds
Not a Finer Day
Across the Seven Seas
Hey! Hey!
“You know,” I said looking at him over my shoulder, “your sailor’s accent grows much thicker when you sing chanteys.”
He quickly kissed the top of my head, “Aye, me beauty,” he said in a brogue so heavy I could hardly understand him, “not but once in a g’while that a swabby be unfetterin’ th’ canvas an’ catchin’ a hearty wind by the lee to seek ’is fortune upon th’ briny deep with such a pert lass on his arm.”
I laughed into the wind.
“Nay, me ducky, you’ll not be distractin’ me so easily. It be your turn to sing.”
I groaned good-naturedly and let Nicholas lead me in song. There was something freeing about standing at the helm, belting into the wind,
singing a song that hundreds of seamen had sang before me, a song meant to herald grand adventures and welcome the unknown.
After finishing a second round of the chantey, I left the helm and leaned back against the bulwarks. Nicholas stayed at the wheel. His hair blew freely about him. His eyes shifted from the vast horizon to the sails above, his practiced hands turning the heavy spokes of the helm as necessary. He sang quietly to himself, and grinned like a child when he caught me staring.
“I have never seen you like this before,” I said to Nicholas.
He smiled as if he did not know what I was talking about. “Like what?”
“Look at you. You could not stop smiling if I promised you Rome.”
As if to prove my point, his smile grew wider. “No need to promise me Rome. I already have everything.”
“What do you mean?”
He looked knowingly at the never-ending sea. He closed his eyes and turned his head up. His face held the look of pure serenity—like a patron saint worshipping the sun.
Then he looked calmly at me. “This is it, luv. This is the greatest day of my life.”
“Setting sail is just that exciting, isn’t it?” I agreed, a grin playing on my lips, as I looked across the azure waters.
“That it is,” he affirmed. “There’s nothing quite like a strong wind in the sails and the sun shining on your face. But that is not what I said. I said that this is the greatest day of my life.”
“Today? The greatest day of your entire life?” I looked again at the sea and the sky, trying to determine what made this voyage so particular.
“So far.”
He grinned wildly. His grey eyes shone in the sun. I looked at him curiously, waiting for an explanation.
“Like you said, setting sail is always exciting. But today is different. For the first time in my life, I’m a free man. It’s just me. And my ketch. I have my own ketch!” he practically shouted. He bounded to my side gleefully, turning me to look across the water. He swept an arm across the scenery. “I can go where I want, do what I please. It’s a freedom I’ve never known.” Nicholas stared into my eyes. “And there’s you. Standing there like you don’t even know you are the greatest gift the sea ever gave me.” He nodded once, a confident, satisfied gesture. “No, I can’t say I have ever seen a finer day.”
