by Sara Donati
“Maybe she won’t,” Hannah said. “Bolt, I mean. Maybe she just wanted to see how we’d react.”
“Helping out Moncrieff, you mean? Spying for him?”
Confused, Hannah shook her head. “No, I suppose not. She doesn’t like him much, does she?”
Curiosity said, “She ain’t easy to read, but there’s one thing for sure—what Pickering has to offer ain’t what she got in mind.”
“Because of his face?”
“No, child. ’Cause of his heart.”
From the other room came the humming sounds that meant Lily was struggling up from sleep. In a moment she would realize that the one person in the world she must have was not with her, and in her despair she would wake Daniel and then the process of soothing them would begin all over again.
“She wants Elizabeth,” Hannah said, feeling that truth in her own belly.
Curiosity let out a sigh and she pulled Hannah to her, hugged her hard. She smelled as she always did, of lye soap and lavender and of herself, honest Curiosity, strong minded and gentle hearted. Hannah was loath to let her go, and Curiosity seemed to know that. She cupped Hannah’s cheek in her palm and wobbled her head gently from side to side. “Don’ you lose faith now, you hear me?”
Hannah said, “Do you think Miss Somerville will come back?”
“Before sunset,” said Curiosity. “What do you want to wager?”
Through the afternoon they waited. While they ground rice and mixed it with goat’s milk and fed the twins, they waited. The Hakim came and went on his daily business, but by unspoken agreement they said nothing of Giselle Somerville; they did not know how far his loyalties reached, and neither of them cared to test him. He made Curiosity more of his medicine, and then went out once again to take tea with the captain.
Curiosity could not sit without some work in her hands and so they took up the sewing, listening all the while for the sound of a soft step at the door. Hannah pieced together leggings and tried to remember why it seemed so important just a day ago to put aside calico and linsey-woolsey for Kahnyen’kehàka dress. The old Tory with his ragged ears seemed like a dream, or a story she had heard once at the hearth when elders told tales of the days before the O’seronni came.
Charlie brought tea and polite inquiries from the captain. They were feeding the babies goat’s milk from a bowl, and he stopped to touch Lily’s sticky cheek with one light finger, smiling in pleasure when she grabbed at his work-hardened hand.
“Tell me,” Curiosity said to him in a casual tone that made Hannah’s ears prick up. “Is this here Isis the only boat the earl calls his own?”
Charlie bristled, surprised and offended, and began a long inventory of the ships owned by the Earl of Carryck. He spoke of merchantmen and sloops and cutters as if they belonged to him personally, and Hannah realized that in a way they were his—the company was his family, and this ship might be his home for as long as he lived. It made her sad for him, and vaguely curious, too.
Curiosity seemed less impressed.
“Uh-huh.” She interrupted him casually, all her attention on the chore of extracting the feeding spoon from Daniel’s fist. “I’m fond of stories myself. But I don’ suppose you ever seen one of them ships, now, have you?”
He stared at her. “But I have, and no’ two days past. The Osiris came intae Québec just as we set sail.” As he grew more agitated his careful imitation of the Hakim’s English gave way and his own Scots came bubbling to the surface.
“The Osiris?” Curiosity snorted softly. “That big East Indiaman you told us about? What would that ship be doing over in Canada?”
Charlie flushed such a deep color that Hannah almost felt sorry for him, a poor confused mouse to Curiosity’s cat.
“But it was the Osiris! I would ken her anywhere. The earl is always sending ships on errands—did we no’ sail oot o’ our way tae Martinique for his cursed ti-nain plants, and hasna the Hakim been slaving e’er since tae see that they thrive? He’ll ha’ sent the Osiris tae Québec tae fetch a bird he fancies, or the pelt of some strange beast that canna be bred in Scotland, or some such wastefulness. Is that no’ the way o’ rich men?”
“I suppose it is.” Curiosity had a particular smile that she saved for her menfolk when they had pleased her. Hannah had seen even Judge Middleton duck his head in pleasure at it, just the way Charlie did now, his ears tinged an earnest red.
“It was the Osiris, Mrs. Freeman, and she’s headed hame for the Firth, too. You’ll see her there.”
“I expect you must be right,” Curiosity said, shifting Daniel to a more convenient spot on her lap. “Cain’t claim to know too much about ships, anyway, can I?”
Hannah could barely keep her surprise or her admiration to herself. Curiosity had put so little work into finding out what she wanted to know, and Charlie was none the worse for it, and even pleased to have been of service to her. The Osiris was headed this way, and probably not far behind. A great shudder of relief moved down her spine. Hannah put her nose to Lily’s neck and took a settling breath.
Charlie was at the door when Curiosity called one more question after him. “Oh, and child, tell me this. Who are these Campbells I hear tell about now and then? Do you know of them?”
His expression darkened with surprise. “Oh, aye. Who doesna ken the Campbells?”
“Friends of the earl’s, are they?”
The question agitated the boy, for he flushed again to the tips of his ears. “The Campbells friends to Carryck? They’re naught but treacherous hounds, all widdershins tae honest men.”
Curiosity turned to Hannah as the door fell shut behind him. “I figure that ain’t exactly a compliment.”
Hannah had to smile. “Granny Cora used to tell stories of the clan wars. The sachem called their men ‘hounds.’” She closed her eyes and reached for the familiar rhythms of her grandmother’s voice. “ ‘Sons o’ the hounds, come and eat flesh’—it’s how they were called to battle.”
“And they call your kind barbarians.” Curiosity grunted softly. “Now I wonder what Miss Priss meant about the Campbells being a worry to Carryck.” She stood, lifting Daniel onto her hip, and looked out the window to the rolling sea.
Sunset, and the sea tugged the light out of the day. With a sleeping Lily in her arms, Hannah leaned against the wall to watch seabirds wheeling white against a sky of bruised blue and scarlet. Through the wall of the surgery she could hear the Hakim as he sang his prayers: he had a hoarse voice and a tin ear and still his chant wound softly around her like a silk veil. Hannah understood nothing of his language or of his god, except that they were a comfort to him, so far away from home. She leaned harder against the wall, held in place by Lily’s sleeping weight, her breath damp and sweet. Behind lids the color of seashells the baby’s eyes darted: even in her sleep she looked for her mother.
Curiosity’s humming stopped, and Hannah roused herself. Over Daniel’s sleeping head she saw Curiosity’s face creased in concentration. “Listen,” she whispered.
Hannah cocked her head and closed her eyes, but she could hear only the sea and the creaking of the ship around her. Nothing of Giselle Somerville. Nothing yet, she corrected herself.
“What is it?”
Curiosity flapped a hand. “Listen!”
Hannah closed her eyes. Overhead, men were moving, as they did so often to change the watch, shift sails, wash down the deck, haul rope, or look to the hundreds of other chores that divided the day into its parts. But the ship had her own voice, too, and it came to Hannah softly, a faint shudder and then a sighing, as a woman sighs at the end of a long day.
“Are we slowing?”
Curiosity spread out a hand, palm up, as if to weigh the question.
From the doorway Hakim Ibrahim said, “We are heaving-to.”
“Stopping?” Curiosity drew in her breath on a hiss.
The smooth brow under the Hakim’s turban creased. “Not quite, but almost. Perhaps we have lost a sail.” And in response
to Curiosity’s expression of disbelief: “Such a loss is not unknown, Mrs. Freeman.”
Hannah touched his sleeve. “Are we near land?”
The Hakim took a rolled parchment from a cubbyhole in his desk and spread it out for her to see. Hannah shifted Lily across her chest and brushed the baby’s curls out of her face, leaning forward to look.
“We are not within sight of a port, if that is your question.” One strong brown finger made an arc across the map. “This whole area is called the Grand Banks—shoal reefs. Fishermen come from as far away as Portugal.” From another cubby in the desk he took stones to anchor the curling parchment, and then he stood looking at it, one corner of his mouth turned down. “I will go to the captain and see what is to be learned. If you will excuse me.”
When he was gone, Curiosity smiled at Hannah over Daniel’s head.
“What?” Hannah asked. “What?”
“Sail, my foot,” said Curiosity. “We been moving fast since we left Canada behind, and all of a sudden we ain’t. Heaving-to, he say. Maybe we’re waitin’ for somebody to catch up.”
Hannah’s heart fluttered, and in perfect imitation of its rhythm came a tripping knock at the door. She jumped, and Lily frowned in her sleep.
Curiosity pointed with her chin to the sleeping cabin. “Keep out of sight,” she whispered.
“Give me Daniel.”
“No,” said Curiosity. “I need him here.”
“I see you ain’t finished with us, after all,” said Curiosity. “Come on in and set, then. I cain’t get up with this child so sound asleep.”
In the darkened sleeping cabin Hannah put Lily down in the cradle and covered her carefully. Then she inched back to stand in the shadows near the door. She had left it standing slightly open, so that from this angle she could see only a bit of Curiosity’s back and half of Giselle Somerville.
“I waited until the doctor came up on deck,” Giselle said.
“You don’ trust him, then.”
A surprised laugh. “Do you?”
Hannah wished to see Curiosity’s face, but then her long silence told quite a lot on its own.
Giselle’s expression was calm, too, as if they were discussing nothing more than the possibility of a summer’s outing. When she spoke her voice was very cool.
“You must pardon my confusion,” she said. “It was my impression that you were on this voyage against your will.”
Curiosity laughed, but there was nothing cheerful in the sound. “Oh, you got it right. I never did think to cross this sea. Never even cared to lay eyes on it. My mama crossed it in chains when she weren’t much older than Nathaniel’s Hannah. Made a slave of her, and she died a slave.”
Hannah hugged her arms closer around herself, afraid to breathe lest she miss even a word. From Giselle Somerville there was no sound at all, but Curiosity seemed not to notice.
“Now, I been free some thirty years,” she continued. “My children were born free. I s’pose somewhere deep inside I had ‘free’ mixed up with ‘safe.’ For a woman most especially it ain’t the same thing, though, is it?”
A flush was rising on Giselle’s neck. “No,” she said. “It is not.” She lowered her gaze and then raised it again, so that Hannah realized suddenly what a strange color her eyes were, violetlike in the very white face. She said, “I am offering you an opportunity to get away.”
Curiosity leaned forward without any warning and simply thrust the sleeping Daniel into Giselle’s arms. Giselle let out a startled sound, and for the first time real surprise showed on her face.
“Look at that child,” said Curiosity. “Pretty, ain’t he? But he’s made of blood and bone. Look hard and think about this: if harm come to any of these children I will have to answer to Nathaniel and Elizabeth, just as sure as one day I will have to answer to my God.”
“Take him back,” said Giselle, her voice trembling with outrage. “Take him back”
When Curiosity had done just that, Giselle said, “That was a very silly thing to do.” Her eyes blazed now, all her calm indifference gone. Her gaze flitted back to Daniel and her color rose another notch. “Am I a young girl to lose my wits over an infant? Did you think I would offer up some great secret with a child in my arms?”
“My,” said Curiosity softly. “What a fuss over a little baby. As if you ain’t never held one before.”
Giselle Somerville froze, her face suddenly very still. “What do you mean by that?”
“Why, nothing at all,” said Curiosity. “What did you think I meant?”
After a moment Giselle smiled. “I understand that the safety of the children is paramount. Listen now and I’ll tell you what opportunity I can offer, and you may take it or leave it as you wish. It might be as much as a day from now, but sooner or later a small ship will anchor nearby flying a particular signal flag. When that ship is in sight, I will create a diversion on board and slip away to meet it. It will all have to happen very quickly, for when this vessel shows itself the Osiris will be very close at hand.”
Curiosity let out a little laugh. “So, we are stopped to wait for the Osiris after all.”
“Yes. Of course.” Giselle was not in the least embarrassed to have been caught in a lie.
“Well then, missy, tell me this. Why would we want to run off, just when our people about to catch us up?”
Giselle sighed. “You mustn’t forget what you know of Moncrieff. He will wait for the Osiris, of course, but he is not enough of a fool to let Nathaniel Bonner get within rifle range. No, the minute we see the Osiris within reasonable distance, we will sail off again for Scotland.”
“Now, wait a minute,” Curiosity said. “Seems to me you and Moncrieff been workin’ together for some time now. How does he fit into your little plan?”
Giselle’s mouth pursed with irritation. “I should say rather that Moncrieff was working for me, although he did not realize it. It suited me to let him think that it was all his plan, when in fact—well.” She pushed out a small breath. “I had business to see to, and it suited me to use him.”
Curiosity might have spoken, but Giselle held up a hand to stop her. “If you leave the Isis with me we can signal the Osiris to stop and take you on board. Given the fact that Carryck wants the child, there is no doubt that they would do so.”
“And we’d still be on our way to Scotland,” said Curiosity.
Giselle spread out her hands on her lap. “Yes,” she said simply. “But with Nathaniel and Hawkeye watching over you, Moncrieff would not dare approach the Osiris to get you back, and thus you would all be together. Which seems to be the thing you want most.” She said this as if it were a mystery to her, and vaguely amusing. She looked at Daniel.
“He’s very dark haired, isn’t he?”
Curiosity shrugged. “It ain’t a surprise, looking at his folks.”
Giselle looked away suddenly. “If you do not care to come away with me, then a word of warning.”
“We cain’t pay you for your advice, Miz Somerville.”
The younger woman looked more annoyed than disappointed at this interruption. A frown line etched its way down the pale brow. “Carryck wants this boy badly,” she said. “And there are others who will want him, too.”
“Those Campbells, I suppose,” said Curiosity.
“I pity the man who underestimates you.” Giselle laughed. “Yes, the Campbells. It suits them best that Carryck is without a male heir, and they will do what they must to keep things that way. Do I make myself clear?”
Curiosity said, “You do. And now let me speak plain, miss.”
“I don’t suppose I could stop you,” said Giselle with a half-smile that was meant to disarm.
“I’m wondering about you, how desperate you are. Who this man is you’re running off with, and what he’s got in mind for these children. After all, they are worth something to Carryck, or to those Campbells.”
Giselle rose slowly. She walked to the window and stood for a long minute watching the sky. W
ith her back still to Curiosity she said, “I could tell you any number of stories that might satisfy you. Perhaps I should tell them all, and leave you to sort out the truth. But in the end there is only one thing that matters: you can take these children and get off this ship and away from Moncrieff, if you care to.”
“Is that so. And I suppose you ain’t ever heard tell about folks jumping out of a frying pan right into the fire.” Curiosity was rocking quietly now, one hand stroking Daniel’s back in a small circle.
Giselle turned from the window. “You have no reason to trust me. Just the opposite. But let me tell you something about myself, and perhaps it will change your mind.” She crossed her arms below her breasts and dropped her gaze to the floor. When she raised her head, there was a glittering in her eye. “My mother was French, of good family but modest resources. My father regretted the union. He speaks of it as unfortunate and untimely, an indiscretion. He divorced my mother under English law and sent her home to France. I have not seen her since. I do not even know her real name, or if she is alive. Perhaps she has not survived the Terror in France. But I do intend to find out, and the man I am meeting will take me there. It was my one condition.”
Curiosity made a sound, but Giselle Somerville held her off with a raised hand.
“Please. I would much prefer your silence to your sympathy. Now, you can take that story and make of it what you will. I will send word when the time comes. It may be quite soon, or it may not be until tomorrow night. You will act according to your best judgment.”
When she was gone, Curiosity said, “Come on out here, child, and talk to me. What did you think of that little story of hers?”
Hannah said, “She never met your eye. I think she was lying.”
Curiosity grunted softly. “Maybe. Even if she weren’t, it still don’t sit right, none of it.”
“I don’t think we should go with her,” said Hannah. “At least, not unless we get a good look at the ship.”
