The Seafaring Lady’s Guide to Love by Fenna Edgewood

Chapter 9

“What utter tripe!”Cherry exploded. “When will you stop repeating such nonsense, Philip? You did not cause Sarah’s death. You did not even set off the events which led to it. That was her own doing. Please give her that much credit.”

“Unless you count marrying her,” Philip countered. “Falling in love with her. Destroying her life.”

“Destroying her life by marrying her? By loving her?” Cherry laughed sadly. “She swore to love and be faithful to you, Philip. Only one of you kept that vow. Even now, you still do so. Even when it is destroying you. Can you not see that? How long will you try to punish yourself and fail for imaginary wrongs you did not even commit?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as if praying for patience.

He quite understood. He knew he was being obtuse and infuriating.

“Have you stopped to consider that Miss Gardner might be exactly what you needed?” Cherry asked, carefully.

“I needed to seduce a young lady?”

“No, stupid,” she said, frowning in frustration. “You need some happiness. And perhaps so does she. You are... attracted to her, I take it? Of course, you are,” she muttered, blushing. “Forget I asked that particular question. And you care for her. If you did not, you would not be protesting so much.”

Philip stared at his sister as she stripped his secrets bare.

Did he? Care? For Miss Gardner? He swallowed. He thought about her frequently, of course. Especially when in bed. He had come to begrudgingly respect her energy, her spirit. And who could not admire her courage?

“She saved my life,” he responded, avoiding the question. “Of course, I am appreciative of her character.”

Cherry pinched the bridge of her nose and looked at the ceiling. “I am trying not to resort to literally slapping sense into you right now, Philip. You are appreciative of her character, are you? Yes, I see. You certainly seemed to be appreciating it very much last night.”

She stood up and brushed off her skirts. “I do not know what else to say to you. I do not know how to get it through your thick skull that you are deserving of a woman who will truly love you, respect you, honor you. And above all, be faithful to you. Perhaps Miss Gardner would be better off alone than with a man too stupid to take an honest look at his own heart. And in that case, you are in luck. In a week we shall reach land. She will disembark and you will never see her again. You may resume your bitter, lonely life of self-penance, while Miss Gardner goes on to live a full and happy one. And that she will do so, I have no doubt.”

Philip stayed seated after she left, staring across the room.

Cherry’s words had stung more than she knew. Especially the last ones.

He thought of Miss Gardner stepping onto the shore, her valise in hand, turning back to the ship and giving a cheerful wave good-bye to the crew before setting off.

Where would she go? She had said she would be staying with friends, perhaps working as a governess. He could easily see her surrounded by children. She had the temperament for it. They would adore her.

And after? Where would she go next? Who would she meet?

She would meet men. Of that he had no doubt. In Tortola, a pretty and vivacious young lady would have no shortage of suitors. It was a trade town—with a surplus of eligible men and a constant shortage of eligible women.

Someone would be sure to woo her and win her.

It was a marvel no one already had.

Three days had passed since Philip had last seen Miss Gardner.

She had taken to her room, at first claiming to be ill and remaining in bed for nearly a day. Then, restricting herself to the women’s quarters and Cherry’s company and refraining from coming above deck.

Cherry refused to speak to him about her friend any further. Indeed, she seemed to be avoiding him as well.

Thus, he had been given no opportunity to resolve matters or to issue an apology.

One which he was quite willing to offer...especially once Miss Gardner told him just what he should be apologizing for.

Of course, if a general apology would improve things, he was fully prepared to give that, too.

His own willingness surprised him. He was not a man given to acts of contrition.

But the more time he spent without seeing Miss Gardner, the more desperate he felt himself becoming.

Would she restrict herself to her cabin for the rest of the voyage?

Would he see her face only one last time, as she walked down the gangplank and out of his life forever?

It was close to two o’clock in the morning but he could not sleep.

He had taken turns reading and pacing his cabin while smoking. Finally, he decided to go above deck for some fresh air.

As he stepped out from the hatch, he spotted a small figure sitting on a barrel staring out to the sea.

Red-capped little Grayson.

“Seen any dolphins this evening?” he asked conversationally, approaching from behind.

The boy gave a jump and turned around.

“Oh! It’s you.” He smiled.

The boy’s face was even more sun-darkened and freckled than the last time Philip had seen him. It had a healthy glow, however, and Philip thought it was even a tad plumper. Perhaps Cook had done what he was told for once and improved the cabin boys’ rations.

“Sleeping on watch?” Philip teased.

“Not sleeping,” Grayson protested. “Well, maybe a little tired.” He gave a great, wide yawn.

“You seem to have the night watch quite frequently for a cabin boy,” Philip observed. “Would you like me to talk to the captain about...”

“No,” the boy interrupted quickly. “I prefer it like this. I like the night watch.”

Philip raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“I even trade for it,” Grayson confessed. He fumbled to explain. “It’s quiet at night. I like the quiet. I get enough sleep, really, I do. I sleep during the day.”

He grinned. “Besides, there is much less to do at night. Although that can be a good and a bad thing...”

“Too dull for you?” Philip smiled.

“Why are you up at this hour?” Grayson asked curiously.

It was a fair question.

Philip leaned against the rail and looked out at the black waters. The moon was mostly hidden in a veil of clouds. The main light was coming from the large ship’s lamp.

“You look rather sad,” the boy said softly.

Philip looked at him in surprise.

“Is it because...” The boy hesitated.

“Yes?”

“Because you are worried about your wife? About her condition?”

Philip stared. “My wife? Her condition?”

The boy was blushing. “She is going to have a baby, is she not?” He narrowed his eyes as he saw Philip’s expression. “What’s so funny?”

Philip grinned. “She is my sister. Not my wife.”

“Ohhhh...” The boy looked back at him thoughtfully. “You do look alike. She is a lot prettier than you though.”

“Thank goodness for that,” Philip said drily.

“Then... You do not have a wife?”

“You ask a lot of questions. But no, I do not.” He shook his head. “Not anymore.”

“But you did have?”

“Most men do,” Philip said, sardonically. “At one time or another.”

“What happened to her?” Grayson queried. He flushed again. “Well... I suppose she must be...”

“Dead. Yes.” Philip was quiet a moment. “I always wanted a child. Many children, in fact. But although we were married for five years, we had none.”

“How did she die?” Grayson asked, inquisitively, and Philip’s head snapped up.

He must have looked rather daunting, for the boy cringed and began to hastily apologize.

Philip raised a hand. “She died... in childbirth.” That was part of the story, but not all of it.

“I am sorry. You must miss her very much.”

“You would think so. I loved her very much. But I find that no, I do not miss her.” He sighed. “We were not happy at the end, you see. No, she was not happy at all. I wish... that she could have died in peace. I would have liked to be able to give her that much.”

“And the baby died, too.” The boy looked saddened on Philip’s behalf.

“Yes, the baby died, too,” Philip answered quietly. He could not imagine what would have happened if Sarah’s child had lived. Sometimes he thought it was better that it had not. Other times he wondered if he would have accepted the babe and come to love it—as the last thing she gave him, regardless of how it came to be.

“My father died when I was just a baby. But at least my mother still had us.”

“Us?”

“I have three older sisters.”

“Ah, so you know how awful they can be,” Philip said seriously.

“Of course!” Grayson nodded. “The worst thing is that you can never escape them.”

“Not even at sea,” Philip agreed.

“Is that why you are sad tonight? Because of your sister?”

“Oh, we are back to that again, are we?” Philip ran a hand over his jaw.

He needed a shave. He was neglectful when traveling. Somehow such matters did not seem quite so important at sea as they did back in London. Miss Gardner had not seemed to mind the stubble.

“Yes, my sister—Mrs. Lambe, Cherry—was being—” He stopped himself in the nick of time. Though he was sure the boy heard plenty of swearing from the sailors. “—very annoying about a matter that is none of her business.”

That was somewhat unfair of him.

The boy was still waiting. For more, he supposed. Very well, he may as well share all if he was going to gossip with a cabin boy all evening.

“She thinks I should get married again,” Philip explained. “She thinks I am unhappy.”

The boy eyed him thoughtfully. “You do seem rather unhappy. At least, each time I have seen you.”

Philip glared.

“Perhaps it is not such a terrible idea,” Grayson said quickly. “She is your sister. She probably does have your best interests at heart.”

“So, she claims.”

“Does she want you to marry just anyone or someone in particular?”

“Oh, she has a young lady all picked out,” Philip said, sarcastically. “She is even conveniently on board this vessel.”

Grayson clapped his hands. “That is convenient! Captain Merriweather could even marry you on board the ship. I am sure the crew would enjoy a wedding.”

The boy appeared to have missed his sarcasm.

Grayson stopped and narrowed his eyes. “Wait. On board this vessel, you said? There are only two ladies on board.”

“Yes,” Philip concurred. “And she is the other. Miss Rosalind Gardner.”

The boy suddenly began coughing loudly, and Philip quickly pounded him on the back.

“It’s nothing,” Grayson sputtered. “Just some air. Went down the wrong way. Go on.”

“Well, there is not much more to say. That is the short version of the story,” Philip said, turning aside once more to look at to sea.

“What is the long version?”

“You really are a nosy little thing, aren’t you?” Philip said, shooting Grayson a look of reluctant admiration.

“You do not have to tell me, of course,” the boy said swiftly. “I just thought that perhaps I might be of some help.”

He smiled so sweetly that for a moment Philip wondered... But no, it was a ridiculous thought.

“Help?” He tilted his head skeptically.

“Yes. For I have three sisters,” the boy reminded him. “You might say I know something about women.”

Now it was Philip’s turn to choke, this time with laughter. “You are how old again? Twelve?”

The boy glared and folded his arms.

“But yes,” Philip said quickly. “How kind of you. Well, what advice would you offer?”

Grayson tapped a finger to his cheek. “I have seen this Miss Gardner you speak of. Once or twice. She is rather...hard to miss.”

“She is that,” Philip agreed. “She has a rather striking personage.”

“Do you find her pretty?”

“Do I find her...” Philip shifted his feet. “I suppose she is quite pretty,” he admitted. That was an understatement.

“She is not what you might call beautiful,” Grayson observed, watching him closely.

“Oh, no? You do not think so?” Philip felt a perverse urge to argue the fact. “I disagree. I think she is quite lovely.”

“Would you mind kissing her?” The boy asked, tilting his head like a bird.

“In fact, I already have,” he confessed. Why he was telling such secrets to a ship’s boy he did not know. Of course, it was not as if he had anyone else to talk to. Unless he was to take Captain Merriweather into his confidence. But he was quite certain the captain would not appreciate hearing about Philip’s below-deck dalliance with a single young female passenger.

“You have?” The boy’s mouth gaped. “Will you marry her then?”

Philip laughed aloud. “It was a kiss, boy. I do not think it warrants a proposal.” He waited for lightning to strike him down dead for lying. “Well, perhaps a little more than a kiss,” he acknowledged.

“I think your sister is right,” the boy declared, looking at Philip and scowling. “I think you should get married to Miss Gardner. She at least deserves a proposal.”

“You do?” Philip stared blankly. “I did not expect you to take her side so quickly.”

“That was when I believed myself to be speaking to a gentleman,” the little boy said tilting his chin upwards haughtily. “Gentlemen do not kiss or do more than kiss a lady without having honorable intentions. Were your intentions honorable?”

Philip felt himself reddening. “Perhaps not.”

Grayson folded his arms over his chest and sat straighter. “She is someone’s sister, you know. She deserves your respect. She has feelings. Why would you not marry her?”

“Why?” In some ways he felt as if he were arguing with an even younger child, for Grayson suddenly looked so sullen and stubborn. “Because I have no feelings. That is why.”

Grayson studied him in silence.

“You’re lying,” the boy said softly.

Philip clenched his jaw. “I am not accustomed to being called a liar by a member of my crew. Particularly not a little boy.”

“You’re not my captain. Captain Merriweather is,” the boy said, starting to hop down from the barrel. “And you are lying. You have feelings. You’re just too cowardly to admit it.”

“Now, see here!” Philip began, angrily. But the child was already running away, across the deck.

He turned back in frustration. He could not even maintain a rapport with a child. How could he maintain one with a wife?

If he had been any good at being a husband, then why had Sarah not thought so? Why had she broken his heart? Betrayed him for another?

He had given her all the love he had. Had practically poured his heart into her hands.

She had crushed it into smithereens

And when he had tried to do something about it, to win her back, to resolve matters... She had died.

That was how matters of the heart turned out when your name was Philip Calvert.

He could not even find it in his heart to go back to his youthful womanizing ways.

Until this voyage, two years had passed without a woman holding his interest whatsoever.

Until Miss Gardner.

She was...unique.

Which was why he did not wish to destroy her life.

He would apologize to her—even if he had to beg Cherry to let him speak with her—and then give her all the space she needed for the remainder of their time on this accursed piece of wood.

He pulled out his time piece. Half past three. He would go below and try to get some sleep. They had perhaps a week before they reached land.

One week to fix his mistake and prepare to correct another.