Days on the ship passed slowly. Though I was enthralled with my first days at sea, I quickly learned that there was little to do besides watching the crew, and the water beneath us. And still, Levi's enthusiasm never faded. Every moment possible, he would walk with Seth, who patiently explained the use of every knot and rope. When Captain Davies shouted a command, Levi would watch with wonder as the crew fulfilled the order. I loved my brother more than most anything in this world, and seeing the joy that sailing brought him made my days more tolerable.
Peter often found me between his duties, and we would speak of meaningless topics. I was far from considering him a friend, and still, he provided more entertainment than anything else available to us. I was not ignorant of his flirtations, and did not mind them. I so rarely allowed myself the time to acknowledge those beneath my station. I had no choice but to marry a wealthy man, and so could not manage to see the point in speaking with anyone less than that. But something about this ship made me feel a little separated from who I was in New York. Here, I was not the daughter of a wealthy Major in His Majesty's Royal Army, but merely a girl traveling from one destination to the next. It sparked within me a strange sense of excitement that became addictive.
"Do you know if we are to be your means of return to the colonies?" Peter asked one day, as we stood at the bow. The Valiant broke through the waves beneath us, and I couldn't help but be entranced by the crashing of the water.
"I do not. I'm not certain how long we are to remain in England. It could be three weeks, or seven months. It all depends upon the temperament of my mother."
"Then perhaps you could sway her temperament towards coming home the next time we are docked in England."
"If it were that easy, I would've swayed her temperament so we never left New York in the first place."
"And prevent us ever having met? A crime."
I laughed a bit, and shook my head. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid I would've chosen my home over our meeting. My apologies."
He shrugged, and smiled all too handsomely. "New York truly must be a land of milk and honey in that case." We watched one another for a moment, and I could see in his eyes some boyish mischief. And it excited me.
A loud shout from the crow's nest caught my attention, though I did not understand the command. "What've they said?" I asked.
Peter straightened immediately, and walked briskly towards the stern. "We're being flagged down by another British vessel."
He walked briskly, weaving in between a sea of soldiers, but I somehow managed to keep up with him. In focusing on his path, I allowed my skirt to drag through some brown liquid puddled on the deck, making me sigh with dismay. "Why would we be flagged down? Is everything alright?"
"I'm not sure yet."
Levi stood at the stern, and as I joined his side, he smiled. "See the ship over there, Em?" he asked, pointing towards a vessel nearer to the horizon than to us. "They've asked us to stop. What do you think it could be?" His childlike excitement was infectious.
"I haven't the slightest idea, but they'd best be quick, or else Mother will throw a fit."
Not thirty minutes later, a small rowboat was lowered from the approaching vessel, and began on its way to our ship. Four British soldiers occupied the small boat, their red coats standing out vibrantly against the dark sea. Their brightness nearly hid the fact that a fifth figure occupied the boat as well, hunched over and small. His clothes were torn, his hair long and unkempt. I was instantly intrigued at the sight of him. What had he done? Surely he had to be a prisoner of war, or better yet, a pirate. Either way, it provided a bit of excitement to the everyday drawl of life on the Valiant, and the deck buzzed with curiosity and excitement. As a ladder was lowered from the main deck, the five newcomers began to climb.
Walking closer to the men to hear their conversation, I found myself drawn in by the scene. Captain Davies welcomed the soldiers, and each in turn thanked him. Though I could hear little, it became increasingly obvious that the young man without a uniform was a prisoner, who needed to be taken to the colonies. After a brief exchange of words, the Captain motioned a soldier forward, who chained the young man's hands together in iron cuffs. While the men talked, I found myself distracted by the captive. His hair, beneath all the dirt and grime which covered it, was flaxen, giving him a strange, ethereal look. He kept his gaze straight ahead, meeting the eyes of no one, but never lowering his chin. He could not have been 18 years of age. I wondered what would become of him...the obvious answer was too horrible for me to acknowledge. So instead, I turned without a word, and began on my way to my quarters.
---
Mother grew more impatient with every day spent aboard the ship, and I found my patience tried every time hers broke. Such was the case one evening, and I found myself practically running to get away from her. A sketchbook in hand, I made my way to the gun deck, which remained nearly untouched this time of the day. It was a quiet place, and one which I'd escaped to multiple times in the previous days. I found a box situated between a crate of cannonballs and a great black cannon, and perched myself there. I began to sketch, and found my thoughts drawing towards Zachariah.
The memory of Levi carrying him through the door of our home, reeking of alcohol was vivid in my mind. Zachariah had always had an inclination towards drink, but I'd never seen him so drunk as that night. Something about the look in his eyes had horrified me. He was no longer my mischievous older brother. He was no longer a tease. Instead, he had become mean, and bitter. There was so much anger within him, but it was shadowed by a fleeting sadness. My heart ached for him, and I wanted more than anything to heal him. But only heaven knew how much longer it would be until we would meet again.
I found myself offering a prayer. I had no firm belief in God, though Father had always raised us to be God-fearing children. In all my years of going to services on Sundays, and reading the Bible beside the fire, I'd never found my own faith. And still, I must have believed in something, for I found myself praying silently in this quiet nook of the ship that my brother's heart would be healed of whatever plagued it. Perhaps that's why religion existed- to perplex the comfortable and comfort the needy.
"You seem deep in thoughts," a voice said, pulling me from my ponderings.
"Oh, Peter," I said, smiling. "You startled me."
"I apologize, Miss Reed. What is it you write?"
"I sketch actually. Or rather, I had the intention to. Instead I've only been thinking."
He came closer, sitting on a box beside me. Suddenly, the realization sank into my stomach that we were alone on the deck. I shifted, a bit uncomfortable, but scolded myself for being silly.
"Either way," he said, a lopsided grin spreading across his face, "you were doing so beautifully."
I smiled tightly. "That is kind of you."
He watched me for a moment, and I found my heart racing. Our flirtations had seemed so innocent above decks, but now, in the darkness of this hidden deck, everything within me told me this was improper. I suddenly had every urge to leave, and though I warred with myself, and tried to convince myself to stop worrying, I made up my mind.
"I should go," I said, standing to leave.
Quicker than I could comprehend, he grabbed my hand, stopping me. "Miss Reed, surely...you must know how I feel for you. And I am certain you feel the same. I am only a soldier, and know that so long as we stood on land, we would live in separate worlds. But...while we are here, there is no distinction of rank. We may...express our love and-"
"Sir," I said, trying to calm the panic in my voice, "I believe you've mistaken me. You are a kind man, and I've greatly enjoyed your company. But I do not love you."
"Never mind love then. Surely you see the attraction between us. Let us forget the rules of propriety and...no one would ever know." His eyes watched me, drifting to my feet, and back up to my face. I felt all at once like the dress I'd worn was too bright, too showing.
"Sir!" I said firmly, yanking my hand from his grasp. "I am a woman of honor. Do you think so low of me?"
He grabbed both my wrists then, and pulled me closer to him. A soft cry escaped me, but he only held tighter. His face was only inches from mine, and the smell of his breath made me shudder. "Admit then that you do not wish to-"
"I do not," I hissed, glaring at him.
He pulled me closer still, and my breath hitched with fear in my throat. "I'll scream," I blurted, never taking my eyes from his. "I'll scream, and the crew will hear me. Somebody will. And they'll believe me before they ever believe you. Now let go of me."
For a few, tense moments, we remained frozen and I wondered if I could keep the bravery on my face for much longer. Anger flashed through his eyes, and all at once, I was filled with the most intense fear. His face grew more and more distorted with anger, and I wondered in fear what he was thinking. And then finally, he shoved me back, making me trip on the box behind me and fall to the ground with a cry. His eyes glared down at me with such a horrifying rage, and as he clutched his fists, I feared he would strike me. Instead, he turned, and stormed from the deck.
Long after the sound of his footsteps faded away, I lay, absolutely frozen. I stared at the ceiling, counting my breaths, and cursing myself time and time again for my stupidity. I was not thinking about what had happened, for I could not think at all. Instead, I found myself thinking, strangely enough, that the wood above me was a lovely color. And then, slowly, I stood. With a wince, I realized my hand bled from falling against the rough wood of the deck.
As I walked towards my quarters, I felt more like a phantom than a woman. Though my feet took me through rooms and up stairs, my mind remained entirely unaware of what it was I was doing. I felt no emotion, and had no intentions. Instead, I wandered, and watched with curiosity where my feet would take me. All became a bit more familiar as I found my way to my quarters. Levi came from the opposite direction, smiling at me.
"Emmeline, you won't believe what Captain Maxwell showed me today. He-"
His smile dropped as he drew nearer, and he scowled. "Emmeline? What's wrong?"
Suddenly tears filled my eyes, and a small sob ripped from my throat. Just like that, he broke the spell I seemed to be caught in. I said nothing, for I could find no words, and instead flew into his arms. "Alright," he muttered quietly, holding me tightly against his chest. "Alright, let's go to my cabin. Come on."
Not a half hour later, I sat on Levi's bunk, convincing him to not say a word to Captain Davies of my encounter with Peter. Every emotion had returned to me, and I almost wished again for the numbness. My chest ached with fear, my hands trembled with regret.
"If his men are...so willing to harass women in such a way, I must tell him!" Levi's face was a shade of red that I so rarely saw. My brother, so calm and kind and gentle, now gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.
"Please, Levi, do not. If you were to say something, Peter would be punished. But we have a long voyage ahead of us still, and I could not live in fear of his retaliation the rest of the way. Please, if you must tell him, wait until we dock. Or better yet, write a letter once we've gotten back to New York. But do not ask me to live in such fear."
He watched me, his face softening with every word, until he nodded. "Very well. You're right, as you always are. He didn't hurt you?"
"No, I've already told you, I'm just fine. I just...I tripped on my way back here. I think I must have been distracted, and I scraped my hand. Captain Maxwell would think me such a fool...he warned me and I ignored him."
"He wouldn't. You are good friends, that much is plain, and I don't think he would let his opinion of you be degraded so easily."
I nodded. "He is a good man."
Levi watched me, silently, then nodded and stood. "He is. I must go check on Mother, but feel free to stay here so long as you like." He began to open the door, but paused and shut it. "You do not realize your own beauty, Em," he said, making my cheeks blush. "You have always been beautiful, and all your life, it has gotten you in trouble. You must be aware that it is a danger, and act accordingly. If not for your own sake, then for mine."
I smiled a bit, and nodded. "Alright. "
He turned and winked. "Stay out of trouble, little sister, or I may never again let you from my sight."
---
Seth surprised us a few evenings later with a deck of cards, much to my delight. And so I insisted that the moment we'd finished our supper, Mother, Levi, Seth and I sat around a barrel that masqueraded for the time being as a table. The conversation was light, and laughter often filled our little company. I could almost pretend we sat in the parlor in New York.
"Do you remember, Emmeline, when Mercy Taylor would come play cards with us?" Levi asked, a nostalgic grin lighting up his face.
"I do, and she cheated every game."
He laughed then, and shook his head. "I wonder why she ever tried...you always caught her. And still, she did every game."
"Mercy has grown into a fine young lady," Mother added, placing a card on the table. "We ought to play with her as we used to."
I raised a brow, and glanced at the cards in my hand. It shocked me that my mother insisted on being nice to Mercy, especially after witnessing how rude she was only a few weeks before. "Mercy Taylor comes from a family of ill repute, Mother, and I'm amazed at all that you still speak with her."
"That didn't seem to bother you when you were children," Levi said quietly, glancing at me over his cards. "I hardly saw you without her at your side."
"That is because such things do not matter to a child. But as I've grown, I've made my decisions of who I will speak with. She is not one."
"Miss Taylor seemed cordial enough," Seth said then, glancing at me with a strange look on his face. "And as far as I understand, her father is a wealthy merchant. What about her family is so unpleasant to you?"
"Her uncle took a mistress, and had a child with her. Except the mistress was younger than his own daughter, and of a servant class family. It was an immense shame for their family."
"I do not understand," Seth said, watching me still. "Because of the actions of her uncle, you've cut off your friendship with Miss Taylor?"
"I have. And besides all that, her father has lost nearly all his money. In another year's time, she'll be seeking employment at a laundry." The thought made me laugh lightly.
"Emmeline," Levi said, his voice quiet but firm. "Do not be prideful."
"I am not prideful. I merely know the truth of society, and the truth is that proper connections ensure pleasant opportunities. Improper connections do quite the opposite."
I glanced at Seth, who watched his feet with a scowl. Something in my heart pricked with worry as I wondered if I had so scandalized him. Sometimes I forgot my tongue, and I wanted more than anything to keep myself his friend. Which is all fine, I thought to myself, but I have no intention of changing myself for one friend. If he found me so offensive, perhaps he was not a friend I needed.
Mother sighed, as though she had not heard the past conversation at all. "I was dealt a terrible hand, and I blame you, Captain."
Seth smiled absentmindedly, as though his mind was far from the little barrel we sat around. "My apologies, Madame. Perhaps your luck will not be so terrible next round."