The Stowaway

XVII

Eliza inhaled a long, dramatic breath, before beaming her bright smile. "The freshest air there ever was," she said serenely.

He did smile then, long enough for her to notice, but she did not say anything this time.

"Come," he beckoned. "You ought to post that letter."

***

After finding a ship that carried British post and talking with the captain privately so as not to alert Eliza as to a possible passenger ship home, Tom ensured that her letter to her sister was safely away.

They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring.

Rather, Eliza danced, skipped and hopped along the coastline, gazing, remarking and gasping at the stunning sights, while Tom walked along behind her to ensure that she did not get herself into more trouble.

Eliza really reminded Tom of a fairy, one in a children's book. She had the stature, and she managed to jump so high that she might have had wings. She was bright and cheerful, and everything about her sparkled.

She was a complete contrast to his own person.

Watching Eliza interact with the locals was quite humbling, as he had known many a man to behave in a derogatory way to a West Indian purely because his skin was dark.

Tom had never viewed them as lesser beings. In fact, the first decent people that he had ever met on his travels were far from white. But in imagining Eliza's upbringing, Tom would wager that she had never encountered a person like a West Indian before today.

She was curious and kind, and ever so complimentary. She admired the braids in the women's hair, and played with the children, who were admiring the blonde of Eliza's hair. She allowed the little girls to play with her hair, and a kind woman combed the ink out of her curl.

Tom watched her in humble amazement and could only continue to chastise himself for thinking less of Eliza for leaving her home. Eliza was good. Yes, she was impulsive, and she had a propensity for trouble, but her first instinct was kindness.

And that made her beautiful.

As they walked back towards the ship and along the pier, Eliza stepped up onto one of the mooring bollards. She held her arms out as she balanced, before leaping onto the next one.

Tom's heart stopped as he watched Eliza wobble before she regained her balance. "Get down!" he snapped.

Eliza laughed, before leaping onto the next bollard. This time, she did not get her balance quickly enough. Her arms flailed, and she yelped as she fell off the pier and into the sea below.

Tom did not think twice before he jumped down over the side of the pier into the warm water below. It was more than a ten foot drop, and Eliza had just missed one of the large merchant ships that was moored to the bollard.

Tom opened his eyes under the water and searched frantically for the mess of hair. The underside of the pier was a thicket of seaweed that made it incredibly difficult to see.

But in and amongst the majestically waving seaweed, Tom spotted a mop of blonde hair moving the same way. Tom immediately swum towards her and grabbed her by the hair, not caring if it hurt. As soon as he had pulled her up high enough, he had her by the waist and was swimming up to the surface.

Much to his relief, as soon as they both reached the surface, Eliza took a deep breath.

Eliza continued to suck in air as she clung to Tom. He realised then and there that she could not swim, and he was keeping them both afloat. He looked down on her with disapproving scowl.