“Catherine?” said a familiar voice. She turned quickly, sitting up in bed with a jolt. At her side sat her uncle Matthews. The kind man looked at her with haunted eyes, strong emotions playing across the weathered planes of his face. Catherine read in an instant the worry and heartbreak that plagued his soul on this awful morning. “Uncle” she said softly, eyes filling with tears. Catherine rose in an instant and clutched her uncle in loving embrace. Matthews returned the young girl’s hold with fierce determination while she cried her heartache into his comforting chest. The rugged sailor cradled her with great tenderness, whispering words of comfort that were occasionally choked by his own strong emotion.
At last, a somber Catherine pulled away with a small sigh. Her beautiful blue eyes were swimming with tears as she spoke; “You saved me. You saved the captain.” Matthews shook his head, eyes cast low at her words; “I did not wish to do it, Catherine, but there was no other way. Your father was going to kill you both. I am so sorry to have hurt you, my child.” Catherine shook her head at his words and leaned against him once more. With her head tucked against his chest, Catherine said quietly; “He was not my father, Matthews. No father would treat a child the way that he treated me. I was in fear for my life long before he pulled out the gun. I was only a possession to him. You are the only father I have ever truly known.” Matthews gripped her tighter and gave a small shaky sigh. The lieutenant regretted so much that had happened but the ordeal was over and somehow, together, they must find a way to move forward.
Looking around the room with grateful eyes, Catherine tried to remember what had passed; “I am still confused, uncle. I do not understand what happened… after. How did I come to be aboard HMS Triton? I am afraid I do not remember” she finished brokenly. Matthews settled next to her and said, “You were in a state of shock, child. Dr. Lyons attempted to revive you at the ballroom but nothing could bring you round. He told the captain the shock was so very great that the best thing would be to let you recover slowly on your own. That’s when the captain insisted on bringing you here to the ship. We all agreed when you came round it should be somewhere comforting, so you would not be distressed again. And so, Captain Knight gathered you up and brought you here himself.”
Catherine twisted her hands together and moved slowly away as she tried to envision the image her uncle painted. Unconsciously she swept up the spray of roses from her nightstand and held them to her face, inhaling the last of their dying scent. Catherine knew somehow that even this small kindness – the removal of her combs and headdress last night – had been by the captain’s hand. Catherine moved with trembling limbs to the porthole window and looked out onto the new day. In the clear morning air birds wheeled freely about the harbor, rays of light bouncing brightly from their wings. The surface of the sea was calm and serene and stretched with endless promise to the horizon. Despite its beauty, Catherine’s heart ached at the sight. Something of their serenity eluded her; she knew she could never fully be part of these scenes again. Too much had passed. Too much had been lost. Catherine turned from the vista outside her window and looked to her uncle once more; “The captain is a very good man, uncle. His kindness, his protection, is so much more than I deserve. All that happened last night, the danger he faced because of me….. I can hardly bear to think on it. He must hate me so.”
Matthews was startled by Catherine’s words and came quickly to her side in reassurance; “You are wrong, Catherine! No one blames you for what happened yesterday, certainly not Captain Knight! You should know that he has been most anxious, Catherine. I do not think he has been to bed this whole night. His time has been split between addressing the matter onshore and in visits to your cabin. He has been checking here regularly to see if you had come round.” Catherine flushed at this news, her heart lurching in confusion. She could not meet her uncle’s eye any longer and stepped to the window once more, her forehead resting against its cool surface in support. Lieutenant Matthews saw the great struggle at play in his niece’s heart and knew the best course of action was to give her space and time to come to terms with all that had passed. He placed his hand on her golden hair as though she were a young child once more. Catherine turned at the touch and gave a fleeting smile. “I shall leave you now, my dear, so you may get dressed” Matthews said gently. “Take a few moments to compose your self and prepare for the day. I shall be on the quarter deck waiting for you when you are ready.” Catherine nodded in agreement and watched as her uncle turned to go.
Matthews was stopped in the doorway when Catherine suddenly spoke out, her words an anxious tumble: “I cannot remain in Jamaica, uncle. I cannot return to that house.” The lieutenant turned to her and replied with kindness; “You will not need to, Catherine. Everything will be arranged. And as for the future, I hoped you might wish to return to England to live with your aunt. You will stay with us as you always should have done, as one of our own.” Catherine was beyond words at the invitation. She smiled gratefully at her uncle as tears spilled down her face once more, relief easing the great pain in her heart.
Matthews left without another word, allowing Catherine the space she needed to sort through her troubled thoughts. She stared out the window a long while before finally turning and settling on the edge of the bed. Catherine twisted the stem of roses that she still held in her hands, their faded petals dropping unheeded in her lap. The lieutenant’s offer of a real home, of a place where she could heal, gave Catherine comfort. But in the depths of her heart she knew that there would be emptiness there as well. Last night, in those horrible moments that had almost spelled the end, Catherine had discovered the depth of her love for Captain Knight. The thought of him dying, the possibility of life without him, had almost driven her mad with grief. When the gunshot rang out it felt like a door slamming shut on her heart; all seemed in darkness, every former joy was swallowed up in pain. When her anguished heart finally comprehended that Knight was alive it had been more than she could bear. It was that shock, more so than the death of her father, which had caused her to collapse in agonized relief.
“He lives,” she said quietly, “and that must be enough. That shall be my consolation.” But Catherine felt a deep anguish nonetheless. The events of last night were so horrible that she knew Knight must look on her now with contempt and disdain. She would forever be a reminder to him of a brutal scene that was best forgotten. The friendship they had found was now marred by tragedy and violence. There could be no turning back.
Catherine sighed bitterly and rose to her feet once more. The petals that had lain in her lap tumbled to the floor in a mocking parody of celebration. Catherine looked at them dejectedly then stepped away. The prospect of living the rest of her life separated from Knight was a bleak and empty one. He had come to mean everything to Catherine – her fondest wish and her heart’s desire – but it was inevitable they part. Catherine squared her shoulders in resolution. There was nothing left for her to do but to draw on every ounce of courage she possessed and start anew; far from Jamaica, far from the cruel memory of her father, and far from Captain John Knight.
The sun was high overhead when Catherine stepped onto the quarter deck of HMS Triton. She looked around fondly at the familiar sights; the hands busy at their tasks on deck and on the Kingston dock, the refreshing blue coolness of the harbor, and the wonderful solidity of the ship itself. Catherine ran a trailing hand along the rail as she moved forward, the wood warm and comforting to the touch. At her approach, a polite murmur ran through the men assembled on deck, alerting Lieutenant Matthews of his niece’s arrival. He stepped forward from the wheel house and greeted her once more. Catherine followed her uncle to a position near the rail overlooking the broad expanse of the harbor. The two settled together in companionable silence, each lost in their own difficult memories of the past day. “You look much better,” Matthews said finally in rough compliment. Catherine laughed at his words and could not but agree; “Thank you, uncle” she said with gentle humor, as she smoothed the fabric
of her fresh linen gown. “You have been so kind – thank you for arranging for my things to be brought here. It was a great relief to shed last night’s clothes in order to meet the new day.” Matthews shifted slightly at the rail and said, “I am afraid I cannot take the credit for it, Catherine.” Catherine looked at her uncle questioningly but before she could inquire, a deep voice spoke from behind: “I hope you do not mind, Miss Gibson. It was I who took the liberty of arranging for your things” said Captain Knight.
Catherine straightened at the sound and turned slowly round to meet the captain. The sun shone brightly on Knight’s face, illuminating his features. Catherine was startled at what was revealed; his eyes were hooded and dark, a shadow of beard showed against his tanned skin, and the state of his normally immaculate uniform gave testimony to the fact that Knight had not rested since the events of last night. Knight noted Catherine’s surprise with amusement and looked at himself critically; “I must apologize, Miss Gibson, for my rough appearance. Business with the Admiralty has occupied my time, I am afraid.” Knight looked at Catherine candidly as he spoke. He saw the shadow that crossed Catherine’s face at his reference to last night’s affair. He did not speak further but stood in respectful silence.
The beautiful young woman stood before him pale and trembling. Catherine clasped and unclasped her hands several times as a storm of emotions battled within her. It was Matthews who finally ended the uncomfortable silence: “I believe” Matthews said to his captain, “that there are some supplies just arriving at the dock. I will see to the loading while you two talk. Catherine, I will speak with you later, after I have finished my tasks” he said, more as a question than a statement. Catherine gave her uncle a nod and he departed.
In the lieutenant’s absence, silence descended upon the two once again. Captain Knight looked at Catherine for several moments, watching the wealth of emotions at play in her face. She still had not spoken but Knight was all patience. He stepped beside Catherine at the rail and removed his bicorn, turning the hat absently in his hands. “I am glad to see you recovered at last” he said hoarsely into the silence. Catherine trembled at the genuine concern in his voice and the expression in his eyes. She lowered her gaze a moment then bravely lifted her head knowing she must respond; “I thank you, Captain, for your kind wishes. I am indeed well….. And it is all due to your noble behavior last… last night.”
Catherine’s words faltered as the horrible scenes flashed through her memory again. She closed her eyes, willing the hateful details away. The evil of those hours was so strong she could still feel it. Catherine knew how it must change everything between her and Knight, despite his kind words this morning. She opened her eyes, pain shining forth from their depths, to find the captain starring at her with concern. Catherine’s careful eyes took in his uncharacteristically disheveled appearance from the sleepless, watchful night; she saw how the worry of the past few hours had lined his handsome face. Knight’s pain, his concern for her well being, was acute and the realization gave Catherine an unexpected jolt. Doubt, belief, despair and hope crossed her face in rapid succession. Catherine tried to still her disquieting thoughts as she met Knight’s gaze once more; “Captain Knight,” she said with shaky breath, “Words cannot express my gratitude for your selfless act. If you had not been there…..”
“No,” the captain cut in suddenly. He stood ill at ease, anger and self-loathing clear in his voice. He moved forward with halting steps nearer to Catherine, a haunted look in his eyes; “No, Miss Gibson” he said firmly, “I cannot accept your thanks. It was my carelessness that endangered you in the first place. I only hope that you might someday be able to forgive me” he finished, his breath ragged with emotion.
“Forgive you?” Catherine said bewildered; “Captain, there is nothing to forgive. You were right about duMont and my father. You tried to warn me but I was too stubborn to heed your advice. If you had not insisted on helping me…..” she trailed off, refusing to think further about what the final consequences could have been. “It is I who must ask your forgiveness,” she continued, eyes cast low. “I know how insidious last evening must have been to a man of your character. And I understand how unpleasant it must be to have me onboard… as a reminder…..” Catherine said weakly. She reached for the rail in support and starred blankly at the sea a long moment. Drawing upon every ounce of courage to remain in control she looked at Knight and said; “I have spoken to my uncle this morning. He agreed that I may return to live in his home in England. I shall… I shall make arrangements for the journey right away. I will leave HMS Triton with all haste.”
The declaration hung in the air between them and Catherine finally had to look away in her pain. Knight starred at the pale young woman trembling before him. He studied every detail of her face; the normally proud bearing replaced by deep sadness and humility. His heart knew the truth at once. Knight reached forward with his strong hand to cup her lovely face, turning her to face his gaze. His thumb gently stroked her cheek, wiping away a tear that fell unbidden from her eye; “I am afraid I cannot allow that to happen, Catherine” he said in a husky voice. “I am not willing to lose you again.”
Catherine starred up into the captain’s face in wonder, her eyes widening in surprise. The breath caught in her throat as she said haltingly; “You… you do not wish me to go?” Captain Knight’s eyes danced darkly, a smile touching the corners of his mouth. He spoke no word, and instead lowered his head to hers and caught her lips in a deep kiss.
Joy and relief rushed through Catherine’s body at his touch, her heart singing in response to his words and the firm pressure of his lips. Knight pulled her closer, her slight frame melting against the length of his own. His hands slipped down her back, enfolding her in his protective embrace. Catherine’s hands stole up the front of his jacket to reach for the planes of his familiar face, her fingers delighting in the feel of his skin and the sharpness of his six o-clock shadow. Knight’s lips moved across Catherine’s own in gentle possession, teasing, caressing in loving tribute until the world disappeared and all that was left was two hearts singing in unison.
After several blissful moments Knight pulled away, keeping Catherine close against his chest. “I love you, Catherine Gibson” he said simply; “And I will never let you go again. Last night, when I thought I would lose you, it almost destroyed me.” Knight shook his head grimly; “I knew my feelings before we reached Jamaica but my foolish pride would not allow me to speak. Then, last night, seeing you again, knowing the danger you faced. It was the worst feeling I have ever experienced. To know I had put you in such a position. To know I had delivered you to duMont and Gibson without protest. It was stupid and arrogant and I am more sorry than words can ever say. I will spend my life making it up to you, if you will allow me?” He finished hopefully.
The light of Catherine’s eyes shone brilliantly in reply; “There is nothing to forgive” she said with all gentleness; “You rescued me. You gave me hope when all seemed lost. For that alone you have my eternal gratitude” she finished quietly. A brilliant smile came to Knight’s face at her words; “And my proposal?” he said, eyes flashing with wicked delight, “Do you think a woman of your background could be content as the wife of a humble sailor?’ Catherine laughed aloud at his reference to their earliest encounter on this same deck. She marveled at how far they had come together, at the strong bond of love that now joined her to him without end. Catherine looked up to the birds that wheeled freely through the clear blue skies; she felt their joy and freedom whispering in her own heart: “Yes, Captain Knight,” she said, looking at him with deep affection “my heart is yours to command.”
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Commanding Heart Page 14
