by Leen Elle
And finally, before I get ahead of myself, I shall come to the last reason of all, the reason that haunts me day and night. As you know, I was a friend of your father's for many, many years. Roy and I went to school together, we depended on one another, we trusted one another. When he married Amelia and I headed out on Violet, we continued to write despite the separation. He told me all about each of his beloved daughters and anytime I was in town I'd stop in for a few weeks to say hello. Mary used to call me Uncle Charlie, though you always preferred Captain. And because I doubted that I'd ever have children of my own, I cared immensely for each of you and looked upon you as my five little nieces. When Roy asked if I should like to be your godfather, I accepted without hesitation. It was only later that Amelia convinced him that perhaps, in such a situation, it would be better if a more stable, landbound man take that responsibility. I wasn't offended, because I knew why she should choose her wealthy brother and his wife over me and my old ship, but I still felt a bit saddened by it.
The years passed by and although I'd stop in whenever I could, I didn't make it to Laraford as much as I would have liked. Roy and I still wrote constantly, though, and our friendship was as strong as ever, through parchment rather than speech.
Before I knew what had happened though, he and Amelia passed away. I didn't see any of you for such a long time. But then, two years later at that marina in Laraford, I heard a dark-haired girl mentioning the name St. James. And within days, you'd all boarded the ship and we set off.
I tried to deny it as long as I could. I told myself that what I was feeling was only the love of a guardian. An uncle. But there came a point when it was useless to deny it anymore, for I knew it was true with all my heart. Still though, I promised myself that I'd rid of the feeling as quickly as it had overcome me. I began looking at photos of Roy and pulling his old letters out of boxes I hadn't opened in years. Anytime I began to feel anything greater than a paternal love for you, Sara, I'd think of your father and it would help the feelings diminish, though only scarcely. In this way, I was able to control my hidden admiration.
But then, I began to realize that I wasn't the only one feeling this way. I felt sure that you, though I hadn't any idea why, had begun to fancy me as well. And this only made the situation all the worse for now there were two hearts involved, rather than only my own.
To you, all these reasons may seem unimportant. But if you knew your father as I knew him, and if you'd held his children in your arms, and if you'd known of the trust he held in you, you would understand. If you'd known him during your schooldays and talked to him of what lied ahead- a family, a home, a job- you'd know why it feels so odd to me to have fallen for his own daughter. When I imagine what he would have thought of me, should he still be with us, I'm disgusted with myself. It pains me to think of him and to think of you and to realize what terrible woes I have ridden on you both.
Although I know the hope lies far out of reach at the moment, I only wish that perhaps one day we shall be friends again. Friends and nothing more.
This voyage is coming to an end and we shall arrive in Brighton in two weeks time, I believe. Perhaps even less. So until we arrive at our destination, let us do ourselves a favor and try our best to forget of all this. If I speak to you less often and seem less cordial than before, do not be offended, I beg of you. Only know that I do it so as not to hurt you. Because until we part, I do not wish to spend my time in your company. Although I adore the time we used to spend together, talking of books and travels and memories, it is futile to imagine that we might have that friendship back in so little time. In the passing of the years, though, I do hope that you will pay me the great honor of exchanging letters with me. Perhaps in that way, we shall rekindle our lost friendship. And if you should ever need anything, do not hesitate to call on me. For although I'm not your godfather in writing, I feel as though I could be.
Please do not hate me, dear Sara, for I've only your best intentions at heart. I still love you and I always will, though in the ways of an uncle rather than a suitor. I hope you understand why I have refused you and can respect my decision, though you may not agree with it. Know that I do not wish to damage your spirits or your heart and that I am sure you shall find a more suitable man in time. I wish you the most wonderful life in the world and I have no doubt you shall find it. God bless you, Sara St. James.
Yours, most sincerely,
Charlie
CHAPTER 23
Just Sawyer
Near the back of the ship, Sawyer and Nora stood with fishing poles at hand. Like always, Sawyer, being the good friend he was, set aside his own interests in favor of Nora's. She'd been lusting after Ben Leslie for the entire voyage but had only spoken to him once or twice. It was a sad fact indeed. So Sawyer concocted a plan for her, a plan that would most certainly gain Ben's attentions.
The first stage of the operation was conducted by Sawyer himself. To convince Ben and Jacob to join him for a bit of fishing, he flattered them with compliments that they were surely the best fishermen on board and always brought in the best catch. If they were to have a good dinner of seafood that evening, it was absolutely necessary for Ben and Jacob to do the fishing. Hearing Sawyer's good word, it was impossible for the two sailors not to agree with him. They followed him to the back of the ship, where Nora soon joined the company, and enjoyed a few laughs while waiting for the fish to bite. Everything was in place for the next step of Sawyer's plan.
With a clever rouse, he'd also brought Emy in on the scheme. She'd been baking lemon poppyseed muffins, one of Jacob's favorite foods, for the past hour. And now, she called from the kitchen that they were finished for anyone who wanted one.
Jacob's eyes lit up and he dropped his pole just as Sawyer had known he would.
"Do you mind?" Jacob asked his mate, "I can bring you back one if you want."
Ben shook his head, "Nah, I'm really not hungry. Go on. I'll catch enough fish to make up for all the ones you'll miss!"
Jacob headed off to the kitchen and Sawyer followed, leaving Ben and Nora behind. He and Emy stuffed Jacob full of so many muffins he'd surely be sick and wouldn't let him leave until he'd drank a full glass of juice as well. As they ate though, Sawyer couldn't help but continue to dwell on how Nora and Ben were fairing on deck. He kept sticking his head out the door to watch, with both a heart of hope and a mind of despair, but it was impossible to see if the plan was laying out as it ought to from such a distance.
He didn't find out how it went until half an hour later, when Jacob was finally able to escape the temptation of more food and headed back to Ben with a stomachache. Sawyer followed and the two pairs joined for more fishing.
But within instants, Nora asked to excuse herself. She said she wasn't a very talented fisherman and was beginning to feel a bit ill. Once Ben and Jacob had said goodbye and wished her better health, she and Sawyer headed into the privacy of Charlie's office.
"So?" Sawyer asked eagerly, "How did it go?"
Nora only shrugged, "Alright, I suppose."
"Oh, come on! You have to tell me more than that!"
"There's really not much to tell."
"Well did something go wrong? I thought you'd be grinning ear to ear after such a long meeting with your beloved Ben."
"Nothing went wrong," she gave a weak smile, "I'm very happy with the outcome. Thank you, Sawyer."
The poor boy scratched his head and pushed his glasses up further on his nose, "I don't understand it. Why aren't you happier? Why aren't you jumping up and down and grinning like a fool? Why?"
Nora sighed and collapsed onto Charlie's old sofa, "It's not your fault, Sawyer. You did everything you could and I thank you for that. But it's just no use. As much as I care for Ben, he's never going to feel the same way towards me. I've tried everything. I thought today would be the day that he'd finally notice me, and perhaps even start to fancy me as well. I did everything I could. I acted just like Mary always does, a little coquette, because I've seen the
way she can catch a man's eye. I batted my eyelids and waved my hair around and started a lovely conversation, but it just . . . it didn't . . . It didn't work. Nothing worked. He still looked at me as if I were some foolish kid. An idiotic little girl with the light in her eyes who wants someone she can never have."
As she spoke, her voice began to falter and soften. Her dream, which she'd beheld for so many long weeks, was coming to an end before she even knew what was happening.
"You shouldn't have to do all that to get a man to notice you," said Sawyer, pacing the floor with his hands in his pockets, "If you do, then he isn't worth your time anyway."
Nora shook her head, "Oh, but you do! No man, no matter what he says, would prefer a boring, simple girl over a charming young woman."
"No, but he might prefer a kind, sweet girl over an overly flirtatious woman . . . I would."
But Nora didn't hear him and whispered, "Only in the books . . . Only in the minds of fanciful, romantic authors . . . And besides, Ben wants a woman like Mary. A woman who's matured and sophisticated and beautiful. Not me. Not this silly, infatuated, hopelessly romantic little girl. He could barely even hold a pleasant conversation with me. His eyes kept drifting off towards the sea as though he were bored and I'll bet that now, at this very moment, he's telling Jacob all about what a foolish girl I am. I can't believe I ever thought I had a chance with him, with Ben. He's much too good for me . . . And I think he knows it too."
"You can't give up that easily," said Sawyer, his mouth dry, "If you still care for Ben that greatly, don't let him slip away. You've got less than two weeks left on this ship and if you want to leave an impression on him, you have to do it now or he'll forget you forever."
"But how? He cares for me as much as he cares for the worm at the end of his fishing pole."
"Come now! Of course he doesn't! There's still a chance. There's still hope. You just have to keep on trying. Don't fall apart now that we're so close to the end. I'll help you. We'll do it together. We'll form a new plan, a better one, and you'll snatch ol' Ben right off his feet!"
"How can you be so optimistic, Sawyer? I can't even imagine attempting a new plan after the failure of this one."
Sawyer felt his head drop, his limp blond waves falling greasily across his forehead and his glasses dipping towards the end of his nose. His plan had been a failure to Nora. A failure. He'd done all he could, but he'd still failed in Nora's eyes. Nothing he did ever seemed to be good enough for her.
But nevertheless, he held his head high and said, "You just have to keep at it, Leonora St. James. Even when you think that everything's lost, and you want nothing more than to give up, you just have to keep on trying. Because there's still a sliver of hope left. However small it may be and however hopeless it seems, it's there. Even though it may seem like Ben will never care for you right now, you'll never know if there's a possibility unless you keep on vying for his affections as you always have."
Nora stood up, a sparkle in her eye, and a smile spread across her face. She ran to Sawyer and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight.
"What would I do without you, Sawyer?" she beamed, "What would I do without you? Of course I'll change Ben's mind! I'll make him see that I'm not just a silly little girl!"
Sawyer bit his lip, "'Course you will, Nora. 'Course you will."
*****
In the dining room of the ship, just a little after lunch, Mary sat sewing and quietly gossiping with Emy. As usual, Emy didn't say much, but it didn't matter much when Mary had enough words to spare for them both.
"My God," she sighed, brushing a black ringlet out of her eyes and pushing her needle through the fabric ever so slowly, "I can't wait to get off this ship and onto dry land again. I think I've smelt enough salt water and tasted enough fish to last me the rest of my life . . . And I just can't wait to see Ethan again. It seems like it's been years, doesn't it?"
Emy nodded, "Especially since you weren't even able to write to one another."
"I swear I've read each of those old letters from him beneath my bed thirty times each since we left Laraford. I wonder if he's been thinking of me as much as I've been thinking of him."
"Of course. I'll bet he's thinking of you at this very moment."
Mary giggled, "I wonder."
At that moment, the door opened and Nora walked in.
"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked.
"Of course not," said Mary, "Pull up a chair."
Emy gave her sister a small downward glance, "So . . . how did it go?"
"How did what go?" Mary asked.
"Not as good as I would have hoped, but . . . But there's still hope."
"Oh good," Emy replied with a smile, "I'm glad."
"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Mary repeated, "Does it have anything to do with that Ben Leslie?"
Nora and Emy both looked up and began to giggle like two lovestruck schoolgirls.
"Well it's not a huge secret or anything, is it?" continued Mary, "I mean, it's really not hard to see how enamored you are with him, Nora. I'm just surprised that after so many weeks you still fancy him."
"Why should you be surprised?"
"Well, he's not exactly . . . I mean, he's not," Mary began to giggle, but Nora didn't laugh along.
"What are you trying to say?"
Setting down her needle and thread, Mary took a deep breath and began, "Well, I wasn't going to say this if your feelings for him were silly and harmless, but I can see now that he means more to you than a simple infatuation. You really like him, don't you?"
"Of course I do."
"That's what I was afraid of," Mary sighed, "Oh, Nora. I thought you knew better than to fall so shamelessly for a man who's not worth the lint in my apron pocket!"
"What do you mean? He's worth thousands times more than the lint in your . . ." her voice trailed off, "I just don't understand why you would say such a thing. What's he ever done to you?"
"Nothing, yet. But I've heard enough stories to prove that he's not a gentleman worthy of your affections, dear sister."
Emy sat silently with her eyes wide and asked, "What's he done?"
"First off, let me say that I don't know the dependability of all these stories, but they come from trustworthy sources, several of the sailors aboard this ship, so I believe strongly in their truth. Alright . . ." she took a deep breath and began, "I'm not saying this because I want to damage your spirits, Nora, I'm saying it because I care about you and I don't want you to continue vying for such a terrible man . . . Michael and Jess have told me all about your dear Mr. Leslie. Apparently, he's got a reputation worthy of the most low-down, horrendous scoundrel you'll ever meet. When the boat docks at one of its ports, Ben's known to lose any sort of respectful conscience he formally beheld. He drinks and swears like a sailor, looking at women as though they're objects rather than humans. With his good looks, he can easily steal the heart of any woman he meets and once he does, he bears no shame in persuading them into an intimacy worthy only of married couples. He can charm them into his bed and let's them belief that he'll become their husband one day. And because of that, because of that promise, they don't feel too terrible about going against everything they've ever been taught. But then, without any warming at all, he'll leave. He'll board this boat again without ever saying goodbye and leave the women feeling hurt and ashamed and angry. Ben Leslie's a horrible man, Nora. A horrible, lowdown rat. His bad reputation spans the entire coastline! I only wish I'd known how greatly you admired him sooner so that I could have saved you from wasting your heart on that man. He'll never be worthy of you, or any other respectable young lady."
Poor Nora sat in shock, letting Mary's words sink in. Never had she imagined that anything like this might occur, but now that she knew she felt furious at both herself and at Ben. She'd made such a fool of herself!
"I'm sorry, Nora," Emy whispered, "There's no way you could have known."
"And at least now you're saved from con
tinuing with your misconceived crush any longer," added Mary.
Nora sighed, letting her shoulders drop, "It's just so embarrassing. I let myself get so carried away with it and . . . and it was all for nothing."
"Don't be embarrassed. It's not your fault," said Emy, "It's Ben's. Evil Ben's. He never deserved you anyway. You deserve someone kind and sweet. Someone who will dote upon you when you're sick and care for you no matter what. Someone who will . . ."
"But there's no man out there that wonderful. I'll never find him and I'll just be a silly old maid for the rest of my days," Nora groaned.
"You're only sixteen. You've got a good many years left to find him."
Mary, picking back up her need and continuing to sew, murmured, "Seems like she's already found him to me."
Nora looked up, her head cocked to the side, "Whomever are you talking about?"
Mary shook her head with a small smile, "My lord, Nora. I never thought you'd be so blind."
Emy, feeling her cheeks begin to redden, let her head drop and pursed her lips shut.
