by Hays, Lara
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Alone with Nicholas—really, really alone—for the first time, I found myself nervous. It seemed rather impious to be sharing such close quarters without a chaperone. Nicholas found this particularly hilarious when I explained my sudden shyness.
It was nothing Nicholas did or said. He was a perfect gentleman, even before I admitted my apprehension. Nicholas had insisted I sleep in the furnished cabin while he took the cabin next door. And though we indulged in many passionate kisses, he was always the first to pull away, more easily satisfied than I.
I tried to help with the chores as much as I could, but I hardly knew what to do with myself. Despite what I had learned in the tavern, I was a horrid cook. It was easy enough to pour rum and boil water, but anything beyond that took Nicholas’s expertise. He seemed more than happy to fill the role of caretaker. From cracking coconuts, to constantly tending the lines and the sails, he seemed to radiate joy in all the tasks that his newfound freedom required.
I admit that I followed Nicholas around like a puppy, but by watching him I learned to make myself useful. After seeing him scour the deck with salt water and a holystone two days in a row, I decided to start on the chore while he was aloft in the lines, reefing the sails. I hauled up a bucket of water from the ocean, retrieved a holystone, plopped onto my hands and knees, and began scrubbing.
When Nicholas came down to the deck, he glared in disapproval. “What are you doing?”
“I thought I would help,” I said timidly, surprised by the reprimand in his voice.
“I don’t need help.” His stern look softened when he saw the hurt in my face. “I mean, thank you, but really, leave it alone and go rest.”
I sat back on my heels, and pushed a stray lock of hair away from my face with the back of my hand. “I don’t need to rest. I want to help.”
“I have it under control.” I could tell he was trying to spare my feelings.
“I know you do, but I really want to do my share.”
“You do plenty,” he argued feebly, then noting my furrowed brows he beamed, “You keep me company.”
“I refuse to be completely helpless,” I insisted with a sigh.
“I don’t want you feeling helpless, it’s just…” he trailed off.
“Am I getting in your way?” I asked, suddenly realizing that the answer might be yes. I dreaded being unhelpful, but more than that, I would hate making things worse just by being here.
“No, you are fine.”
“Am I doing it wrong?” I eyed the wet boards surrounding me and the holystone in my hand. It had not looked complicated when Nicholas scoured the deck, but it was my first attempt at anything like this. I could be ruining the ship for all I knew.
“No, Tessa, it isn’t that. Just…don’t. Just get up and stop scouring the deck.”
He pulled me up by the arm and took the holystone from my hand, tossing it aft. His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me close.
“I’m a sailor. This is what I do. Let me do it.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
He raised his eyebrows as he looked at me and said, “I don’t know. Whatever it is that ladies do.”
I pushed away from his chest, taking a small step back. “What is it you think ladies do? Laze about and stare at the ocean all day? I am not useless.” A hint of sarcasm touched my voice.
“Tessa, believe me, I know you are strong. It’s nothing to do with that. I just don’t want you working like that.”
“Why not?” I grumbled.
Nicholas pulled me close to him again. I put on a show of resisting him, but let him wrap his arms around me. “You are fixed on defying me, aren’t you? I know you can do it. But I just really want to take care of you—” I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed his finger against my lips and continued, “I know you don’t need me to take care of you, but I need it. Please. Just let me.”
His grey eyes glistened with nothing but affection. I couldn’t resist. I surrendered with a hug. “Fine. I won’t scour the deck. But I can’t do nothing. I get so bored when you are working.”
“I don’t want you to be unhappy. But you won’t scrub floors like a scullery maid. Maybe you could mend the sails. Something less physically taxing? We will sail into Curaçao in four days and I promise we will purchase some things that will make life at sea more pleasant. Books and sewing and anything you want. Sound reasonable?”
“I suppose,” I said, still moping a bit. “It’s just that scouring the deck seemed easier than cooking.”
Nicholas laughed and hugged me tighter. “There’s no winning, is there?” He planted a swift kiss on the top of my head then dashed aloft to tighten a luffing sail.
That night when I presented Nicholas with a dinner of bland boiled fish, I couldn’t help adding, “Bet you wished I’d finished the deck while you cooked.”
He ate the fish heartily and never complained.
* * * * *
Though I complained of boredom—Nicholas allowed me to help with very little—the weeklong trip to Curaçao was a happy one. Compared with the confinement in Nicholas’s cabin aboard the Banshee, my imprisonment in the brig, being aimlessly adrift in a jollyboat, stranded on an island, and working among prostitutes, I was now in paradise.
The daily workings of the ketch intrigued me and I peppered Nicholas with hundreds of questions. I admired his agility as he climbed the ratlines, secured the sails, shimmied down the masts, tied knots, and performed a dozen other chores daily. He was strong, too. It was difficult not to stare at the way his arms hardened and rippled as he tacked the lines and managed the boom. Nicholas tried to teach me how to read the ocean—an art form as mysterious to me as a forgotten religion. All of nature is speaking, he would say. We just had to learn to listen. Despite his lessons, I could never see the invisible eddies Nicholas found so obvious or remember the significance of cloud height and shape. I surmised that sunshine and wind made Nicholas happy, therefore, they were good things.
I made peace with my idleness. I knew I was capable of helping more. And Nicholas knew it too. It wasn’t that he had to take care of me. He wanted to. And I let him.
We decided to name the ketch the Freedom. Though Nicholas initially wanted to name it after me, I strongly objected, and we settled on a name that celebrated our liberation.
He kept to the sailor’s schedule of never sleeping more than four hours at a time. I felt bad for the constant amount of work that he always needed to do, but he insisted that he loved it. Sailing was his calling and he said that he’d never had more fun at it. He claimed that sailing the ketch by himself was less work than he had ever done on the Banshee. I always felt guilty retiring to a full eight to ten hours of sleep each night in a comfortable four-poster bed knowing that Nicholas would keep working through the better part of the night.
I experimented in the galley constantly, trying to invent a delicious new delicacy. I made a type of scone with flour, water, coconut milk, and dried papayas. Dipped in molasses, my recipe masqueraded quite well as dessert.
When I wasn’t wasting our supplies in the galley, I did my best to entertain Nicholas—I would fill his ears with idle prattle that he seemed to enjoy, and he taught me long-haul and short-haul chanteys. With no books to read, I recited verses from the Bible and recounted my favorite tales. Nicholas was quite taken with the story of Odysseus traveling home after the Trojan War. He requested that story often.
The days blurred together in a golden haze. The laughter, the work, the late-night revelations…each day was better than the last. On a boat so small with no one else to talk to, it was impossible to keep secrets. We saw each other at our worst and made each other better. An intimacy bloomed between us that could not have been born in any other way. Nicholas became my truest friend, my closest confidant, my partner, and my happiness.
I was in love with him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Several days before we were scheduled to reach Cur
açao, a knock on my door woke me in the middle of the night.
“Nicholas?”
“Would you please come out?” he asked.
“Is something wrong?”
I squinted in the direction of the portholes. It was still dark.
“No. I just need to talk to you.”
“Let me dress. I will be just a moment.”
Concerned that something was amiss, I hastily threw on my tattered silk dress and hurried to the deck where Nicholas was standing at the helm with his back to me, staring into the distance.
I rushed to the other side of the wheel where I could look at him.
“Is everything all right?” I searched his face for the hovering doom that caused him to wake me in the middle of the night.
He looked surprised at my agitation and took my hand. “Of course.”
Still unconvinced, I scanned the horizon, looking for anything that might signal trouble. Nothing was out of place.
I turned back to Nicholas, confused. “You needed to talk to me?”
“Mm-hmm,” he nodded casually and gestured to two wooden chairs he had arranged near the helm.
The setup briefly reminded me of the last time I had seen chairs arranged on the deck—at my trial. My foreboding deepened. I sat down nervously, unsure of what to expect.
I scrutinized his every move, hoping to glean some insight into why he summoned me. He was as casual as ever, gracefully sitting in his chair, then scooting it closer to me. I looked into his eyes, but he was looking somewhere else. I could not catch his attention. Did he even know what this was doing to me? My palms grew damp. Though the ketch wasn’t in imminent danger, something was not right.
Nicholas held my face in his hands and kissed me slowly. I tried to discern any difference in this kiss, wondering if this was a kiss goodbye. Maybe I was just a bale of cotton after all, doomed to be left at port.
“Where are you, Tessa?” he whispered between kisses.
“Right here?” I answered uncertainly.
“No,” Nicholas breathed into my ear, “you are not here with me. You are a hundred leagues away.”
His lips found mine once more and though I kissed him back, I failed to mask my anxiety at this bizarre behavior.
“Tessa.” Nicholas sat back in his chair and clasped his hands together.
I stared wide-eyed, bracing myself for the words that would come next. He must have realized that I had been right all along—that he did not belong in London. That he needed to stay here at sea. Our lives were too different. He would tell me that when we landed in Curaçao, it would be time to go our separate ways.
“I have been on my own a long time. A rat on the streets. A sailor on the sea. And a pirate officer after that. It has been a long time since I have answered to the laws of society or even thought about what anyone wanted but me. I do what I please and I take what I want.”
I sat rigid in my chair, my hands tightly clenched in my lap. I reminded myself to breathe. My uneasy heart grew heavy, ready for the break that was coming next.
Nicholas finally seemed to see me and sense my worry. “Relax,” he chuckled as he touched my knee. “You make me nervous.”
Trying to be brave, I nodded vigorously. A little too vigorously, eliciting more laughter. How could he laugh at a time like this? I could understand his reasons for leaving, but did he have to be cruel? That was too much. I bit my lip to keep it from quivering.
Leaning towards me and taking my hand, he continued. “It occurred to me that I can’t always be like that. It’s not always about what I want.”
I closed my eyes, ready for his final words.
“I need to do what is right by you. So I need you to tell me what you want.”
My eyes flew open. “Wh-what I want?” I stammered.
He nodded, suddenly serious.
I replayed the words he said. I was not sure exactly what they meant, but I was fairly certain they did not mean goodbye. “I-I’m not quite sure I follow you.” Maybe I was in too much shock to understand that he was letting me down softly.
His eyes locked securely with mine. “I want to be with you. I knew you were special from the moment I saw you and since then, every moment we have shared confirms that you’re my north star. You are what I want to guide my journey by.
“Because of the life I’ve lived, I tend to act on my assumptions like they’re gospel—like it’s all that matters to everyone involved. But things are different now. So I need to know what you want. How do you feel about me...about us?”
He leaned back in his chair and waited, more serious than before.
Blowing out a sigh, I pushed my windblown hair from my face. “Nicholas! Do you know how much you worried me just now? I thought this was going to be something horrible.”
A look of confusion flashed across his face. Then he realized what I had been thinking. He smiled apologetically. “I am sorry, I just...” he sighed, “I just did it again, didn’t I? I figure out something I want—like talking to you about all this—and I discard everything else. As if this couldn’t have waited until morning! I shouldn’t have wakened you and I am so sorry for scaring you.”
“It’s all right,” I smiled, still finding my emotional footing. “I’m glad you did. I admire your directness. It is refreshing in a world of ostentation and charades. I only hope that I can be as honest.”
Nicholas visibly stiffened.
Now he was anxious. He had no reason to be. How could he not know that? It was so ridiculous, but as I was still recovering from my near heart attack, I found a small bit of satisfaction in his discomfort.
“Relax. Please. Now you are making me nervous. I just mean that I have spent so much time in that world of pretension that I find it very difficult to speak so candidly of my feelings.”
I carefully weighed my words before I spoke, still unnerved by my uncontrollable desire for the man that sat across from me. I desperately wanted to tell him how I felt. How I didn’t want to spend another moment without him. How my entire future shone in his eyes. I wanted to tell him how special he made me feel and how afraid I was that I would be unable to make him feel the same way, and that he would tire of me eventually. My heart tattooed in my chest, and I grew too nervous to say a tenth of what I wanted.
“I agree with your sentiment and feel no differently.” I regretted the words as soon as they were out. Though I wanted to check my longing somewhat, I sounded like I was finalizing a business venture.
Flashing a warm smile, Nicholas leaned in close to me and took my hand again. “Good. I want to do this right for you, but I don’t quite know how. So I need you to tell me what to do.”
He was nervous. I could tell from the softness in his voice, the hunger in his eyes. It was entirely endearing. My nerves returned and, again, I was apprehensive about what he would say next, although now it was a much different feeling.
“Do we...Should I...I mean...Do we need to marry?” he finally blurted. “You are just seventeen. I do not know if that is...if that is the right age...if you have other intentions. I just...I just...I just...I don’t know. But I want to know. I need to know.”
He seemed as if he was going to keep bumbling along and, as amusing as it was to see him as lost in love as I felt, I stopped him with a kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“Nicholas Holladay, did you just ask me to marry you?”
Nicholas smiled crookedly, the gauzy moonlight illuminating his strong cheekbones. He flittered nervously. “No. I just asked you if I needed to ask you to marry me.”
I thought that over, raising my eyebrows at his logic. “Oh. I see. Well, in that case, I suppose I do not need to answer.”
A frustrated pain filled his eyes.
I teasingly slapped his arm. “If you want to ask me, then why don’t you just ask me? Or maybe you don’t really want to ask me. Maybe you think that you have to, and that’s the only reason why.” I scowled at him playfully, yet partially believing what I said.
<
br /> “No, Tessa. It isn’t that I feel obligated. I just wanna do everything right. And if I were to ask you, it would not be here on some old putrid fishing ketch in the middle of nowhere. It would be perfect. Maybe in Paris. There would be dancing and jewels and romance. It would be perfect.”
Reluctantly, I took my eyes away from his and took in my surroundings. A balmy zephyr breeze warmed the night. An endless sea of stars glittered across the sky. I sat next to the man I loved and we were the only two people in the universe.
“I cannot imagine a night more perfect than this,” I whispered. “A sky full of diamonds. The ocean waves dancing against the ship. And you. It’s really all I could ever ask for.”
“But I am not asking,” Nicholas insisted, a small smile on his full lips.
“I would say yes. But since you are not asking…”
Nicholas pursed his lips and scowled in mock annoyance.
“At least now there is no need for you to be so nervous next time,” I offered in truce.
His face lit up. “That does help.”
After a moment of comfortable silence, Nicholas said, “You still haven’t told me what you want. I mean, before, you were a little apprehensive about being completely alone with me—”
“I’m fine now.”
“I know. But still...You would be alone with me quite a lot. It’s not the way things are usually done. And we are both a bit unusual ourselves, so I have no qualms. But I know it is not the life you always dreamt of. Just tell me what you want.”
“Nothing sounds more wonderful than a hundred thousand days exactly like this.”
“Good. Still…this is not what you dreamt about growing up. What I want to know is what you expected your future to be like. Back in London, before you met me. What were your expectations then?”
