As the Windsong manoevered away from the dock, her captain fell uncharacteristically silent. John Waggs shouted orders and the sailors, old and new, ran to obey. Hollee watched with a critical eye, but he did not offer corrections or change the course set by his first mate. Small boys ran down the dock, racing the Windsong until she reached the end of the dock and they stopped short, waving and shouting. The sails were let fly, caught, and began to fill with the wind. The whole ship seemed to sigh, relieved to be underway again.
Hollee couldn’t resist looking at Nevis one last time. The ship was picking up speed now, and the water underneath her bow was breaking into white snowdrifts, her wake spreading strongly behind. They passed the Temeraire, due to leave for England as soon as Captain Mannington was ready to leave, and the Boreas, anchored further out, still waiting her captain. The island shrank behind them, and Hollee turned his attention forward. The day was bright and cool, and the Windsong was leaping through the water like a dolphin. Hollee felt his spirits begin to rise, as the distance between himself and Nevis widened. He had not realized how down he felt until this moment, when he could leave all his worries behind, simply go. Freedom to move where he wished, when he wished. He was his own man, and master of the Windsong.
“Mr. Campbell! Lend a hand there! You, Pratt, secure that rope. My God, who tied this knot? It’s a disgrace!”
And so on. Eventually the bustle on the ship that always accompanied a leaving settled down, and the men who were not on watch could go below or above or tend to their own myriad responsibilities. John Waggs had brought a boy on board, one of Queenie’s “orphans,” a young lad of twelve who had sought shelter with her when his mother had succumbed to scarlet fever and his father to gin. Now he was eager to try the sea, and he was quite perplexed when John began his lessons.
“Now Master Tom. We’ll commence with the needle an’ thread.”
“Needle and thread, sir?”
“Ay lad, who d’ ye think is going ter mend y’ shirts out here?”
“Queenie always mended them for me, sir.”
“And d’ y’ see Queenie out here now, you do not. So it’s every man for hisself, and y’ve only yerself to look after yer clothes.”
Hollee, recalling his own arduous sewing lessons at John’s hands, took pity on the boy. “Don’t forget we’ll be needing to stitch sail as well, lad, or leather, or a host of other things. A ship is more than wood, you know.”
And the boy had picked up his bone needle and attended John.
They chased the trade winds up the coast of America, stopping at Cuba for fresh water and becoming becalmed off the coast of Florida for a few days. The men took advantage of this to row into shore and return with a three-foot alligator, which they proceeded to roast for dinner that night. The animal was large enough that each man could have a pair of teeth, and soon alligator teeth necklaces were all the fashion among the Windies. The next day the wind picked up (to much cheering) and they set sail again for Charleston.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
chapter 5
"Name?"
"Seamus O'Brian."
Hollee squinted up at the new recruit. "Irish?"
The man nodded.
"Sign here, please. And I hope you will not be fighting on this voyage," Hollee added, as the man made his X.
O'Brian grinned, revealing two missing front teeth. "Only if ye want me to, sor," he said. He shook Hollee's hand and stood aside.
The navy press gang had managed to miss all of the Windsong's crew (no doubt because they were hiding underneath loose women or, in the case of Mr. Hartleby, in the church), but several men had opted not to sign back on. Hollee had hired three news hands and he was not displeased with them If they could do half the things they claimed, they would fit in well with the established Windies. The tide was tugging at the ship's bottom, the new mainsails sniffing hopefully at the wind. After the rainshower yesterday, the air was fresh and clear, and it was time to leave.
"Seamus O'Brian."
Hollee squinted up at the new recruit. "Irish?"
The man nodded.
"Sign here, please. And I hope you will not be fighting on this voyage," Hollee added, as the man made his X.
O'Brian grinned, revealing two missing front teeth. "Only if ye want me to, sor," he said. He shook Hollee's hand and stood aside.
The navy press gang had managed to miss all of the Windsong's crew (no doubt because they were hiding underneath loose women or, in the case of Mr. Hartleby, in the church), but several men had opted not to sign back on. Hollee had hired three news hands and he was not displeased with them If they could do half the things they claimed, they would fit in well with the established Windies. The tide was tugging at the ship's bottom, the new mainsails sniffing hopefully at the wind. After the rainshower yesterday, the air was fresh and clear, and it was time to leave.
4.1
Fanny cocked her head. "Do you mean to tell me, Bell Hollee, that you have been here a whole week and have not come to see me?" She picked up her sewing, smiling. "Captain Nelson has been here twice already."
"Has he?" Hollee said, trying to keep his voice light. "I daresay he'll be busy once he decides to take possession of his ship. It's very good of him to entertain Josiah and let you have some leisure time."
Perhaps sensing she should not have mentioned the navy man, Fanny gracefully tacked the conversation. "And what about you? Where do you go next?"
"Charleston, but pray, do not mention that to Captain Nelson."
"Hollee, have I ever let you down?" she said, frowning playfully. "Why, when Captain Reeve was here the other night--did I ever for a moment let on that you and he were bosom companions?"
Hollee could not prevent himself from rolling his eyes. "It's a wonder that the Navy hasn't hauled you in for questioning, associating with a known American and a smuggler."
"I cannot believe the Navy doesn't have better things to do than to go chasing around after you. Why, there are rumors of a slave uprising to the North--never mind the fact that the Spanish are determined to increase their trade routes through here." Fanny had an instinctual understanding of the political web that overlaid the Caribbean islands, an understanding born of a woman's need to balance parties and conversations between feuding factions. "Honestly--just how much do they think you stand to make with your little ship?"
Hollee told her.
Fanny's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "I beg your pardon, Bell, I had no idea it was so much."
"I'm afraid I am deceiving you somewhat, for the number is lower depending on many things. Whether the ship needs repairs, the amount of crew, if I must replenish my gunpowder, et cetera, whether or not I must pay bribes. But yes, I manage to do all right for myself." Hollee looked away. Talking about money in polite society, was normally taboo.He had not meant to impress Fanny with his business dealings, only to demonstrate--modestly--that there was quite a bit at stake. Fanny looked thoughtful as she pulled a tiny needle through a ruffled collar. Hollee continued, "That is to say, the number sounds much grander than it is."
"How wonderful to not have to constantly worry about money." This said softly and wonderingly.
"Yes. No worries--only the Navy, pirates, and, let's not forget, acts of God." Hollee smiled conspiratorially. Then he leaned forward. "Fanny. I must apologise for the way I acted last week. It was most improper and rude."
"Not at all--"
"Pray, let me finish. I wish I could give you all the things you ask for. But I cannot. You must believe me when I tell you that I cannot marry you, though I hold you in the highest esteem. I would like to," he said quietly. "But I cannot. I have had you in my thoughts all this week, however, and I believe that I have hit on an idea which I am hoping will be pleasing to you. Earlier I mentioned my riches only to demonstrate that I am quite capable of what I am offering. Which is to say--I would like very much to buy you and Josiah a house of your own, where you can live comfortably without worry about your uncle's temper."
Fanny naturally looked quite shocked and surprized at his statement, which was not at all what she had been expecting. Her sewing was sitting forgotten on her knees again as she looked at him, her eyebrows moving together and apart in confusion as she tried to piece together the logistics of what he was saying. Hollee let her work it out for a second before saying, "Please think about it. Take as long as you like. Don't feel you have to answer me now, but consider it, please."
"A house of my own?" Fanny said, coloring. "With no obligation on my part? A gift--a gift from one friend to another?"
"Yes--," Hollee said, confused, he thought he had made that perfectly clear.
"Oh Bell. What would people say?"
"They will say nothing. They will say, 'Look how well Fanny Nisbet is taken care of!' if they say anything. There is nothing untoward about buying a house for someone."
"Or they will say, 'What has Fanny Nisbet done to deserve such a beautiful house?' and the gossip will start. Thank you for the offer, but--"
"You haven't even considered it."
"There's nothing to consider, I'm afraid. It is a lovely gesture, but I cannot accept it."
"But your uncle--you made it sound quite serious."
"Oh, it is serious, you're quite right there."
"Well then?"
"Even then I cannot accept your generous offer. I would not do that to my reputation--nor Josiah's--nor yours. Don't scoff, Captain, you will spend all your time away from Nevis, you won't have to hear a thing, but I would, and it would hurt me."
"And if your uncle makes good on his threat?"
"Then I shall--" Fanny threw up her hands in exasperation, "I don't know, I suppose I shall go back to England and live with my husband's family. Or become a governess."
Hollee shuddered. "You would leave Nevis--and me--just like that? For England?"
"It is one option."
"I hate England."
"Don't be petulant, Bell, you haven't been in England for sixteen years."
"I beg your pardon. Please consider what I am offering."
"You offer me a house. Nothing more. You will not marry me, but you will buy me a house. Do you honestly think I should be flattered that you are willing to invest your money in me, but not your life? Bell--dearest friend--why are you so adamant you won't have me?" Fanny shrank into her chair, uncertain. Her eyes were locked on his, suddenly frightened. "Are you already married?"
All Hollee could see was his dearest friend sitting across from him, looking petrified, awaiting his answer. Their pause was broken by a yell from outside, then a slow winding cry, as of a small boy who has had the wind knocked out of him, but has finally gotten it back just in time to alert the whole world he has been greatly wronged. Fanny, with a mother's sense tuned to any change, broke her gaze with Hollee and dashed outside. For his part, the captain stood to follow her, but paused. Out on the lawn, Nelson and Fanny were kneeling over the prone Josiah, who had evidently fallen out of a tree. Fanny was alternately hugging him and shaking him, and Nelson was expertly feeling for broken bones. Having decided there were none, the two adults put him back on his feet, where Josiah clung to Fanny's skirts and settled in for a good cry. She picked him up and they moved back towards the house.
"...you shall have a biscuit, my love, that will make you feel better. And a nice tall glass of lemonade." All over the house, servant ears were pricking up at her words and black hands were already hurrying towards tins and boxes, preparing a tray for Master Josiah. "Captain Nelson, thank you so much for looking out for him."
"Not at all, not at all. I only wish I could have sprouted wings and stopped him from falling altogether."
The little party re-entered the parlor. Nelson was surprized to see Hollee, and it took him a second to remember who the man was. He made a small bow and Hollee returned it, then sat down abruptly in his chair. Josiah was snuffling at his mother's neck and she was wiping his tears away with her handkerchief. Hollee tried not to be too repulsed by the sight of the tiny red tear-streaked boy, a far cry from the obedient little lad who turned pages for his mother in his best coat. Nelson, Hollee also noted meanly, had a grass-stain on one knee, and his queue was quite undone. Nelson seemed to become aware of this fact a second after Hollee noted it, for he quickly brushed his hair back off his face, dislodging some small twigs as he did so.
The Navy captain seemed to regain some of his former poise as he sank into a chair, however. He sat primly on the last eight inches, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
"Thank you for taking Josiah outside," Fanny said. She continued to stroke her boy's hair as servants entered with a tray. They set it down noiselessly, replacing Fanny's cold teapot with a fresh one and disappeared. "I'm sure he appreciates it as well. Did you get to hold Captain Nelson's sword?" Fanny said to her son. Josiah nodded somberly, then more eagerly as he remembered the shiny gilt handle. "Was it heavy?"
"I could lift it!" he said and reached for a biscuit. Fanny intercepted his nose with her handkerchief and he blew noisily before finally getting his treat.
"He handled it very well," Nelson said gravely. "I am proud to say the English navy triumphed several times over the Americans this afternoon. Josiah will make a fine sailor some day."
Fanny smiled. "Why don't you go see if Susie needs some help in the kitchen?" she whispered to her son. He seemed loathe to leave this interesting world of adults, but after a few more prods and a couple more biscuits, he darted from the room, clattering down the hallway.
"They won't appreciate that I've sent him to them in the middle of the dinner preparations," Fanny said, smiling. "But perhaps he can be passed off to the barn. Come fall I must think about some schooling--I daresay he will be less than happy to sit quietly all day learning his lessons, but there it is." She decorously retrieved her sewing from where it had fallen in her flight and began to stitch once again.
Nelson was sipping tea, blowing on it to cool off the scalding liquid. Hollee marveled how quickly Fanny had moved through the moods of the afternoon. The emotional outburst between them had been replaced by the frantic worry and then soothing calm of a mother, and now she was once again the picture of the perfect hostess. His own heart was still hammering in his chest just from picturing her startled, drained face, looking at him with that uncertainty after she had turned down his offer. He felt as though he were sitting on a chair of nails--nothing could make him wish to stay, except that Nelson was sitting to his left. The stiff display he had demonstrated the week before was gone as if it had never existed, and he now looked perfectly at ease. Hollee felt an unfamiliar feeling race through him whenever he regarded the man.
Nelson continued to sip at his tea. Fanny seemed perfectly content to sew, and so the two men were forced to regard one another.
"Pray tell me, Captain Nelson, when do you take to your ship?" Hollee said, relieved to hear his voice in its normal register.
"Ah, three days from now. I have already been aboard to go over the ship's log and the papers with Captain Mannington, and to look over the crew, but we are still a few men short. As soon as my lieutenants have rounded up the requisite number, we shall set sail."
"Very good sir." Holle could not resist adding, "I hope you do not find any of my men, sir, we sail tomorrow. That is--if I have a full complement of seamen, naturally."
Nelson looked at him with interest. "Remind me again which ship is yours?" he said thoughtfully.
"The Windsong, Captain."
"Oh yes, of course. You must forgive me--I have met so many captains this past week, it is quite difficult to keep track of them all. Tell me, what is your destination once you shove off?"
Hollee felt the familiar mixed emotions moving within him. Really, for all his social posturing, the man had no idea how offensive he could be. Hollee felt like rising and leaving without saying a word. Instead he forced himself to reply. "Ch--Barbados, sir," he said. He could have bitten off his tongue. Instead of attending to the question he had let his dislike get the better of him and had practically admitted to the captain he was planning on breaking the law!
"Barbados, sir?" Nelson frowned. "Do you intend to take on a load of rum there?"
Hollee, who had blurted out the first island that came to mind south of Nevis, took a moment before he realised that Nelson was delicately asking if he participated in the slave trade. He straightened his back self-righteously. "Not at all, sir! I have a special commission to deliver some goods to Barbados."
"Ah, of course, forgive me."
"The Windsong has never been--nor will never be--a slaver," Hollee said vehemently. "I'd burn her to the waterline before I let her be used thus."
"Well said, sir. I couldn't agree more. It is a nasty, stinking business and no doubt about that." Nelson seemed pleased that they were in agreement on something, and Hollee could see the tally mark which made Hollee an ally in Nelson's fight against law-breakers. "And then off to England, I suppose?"
"Beg pardon?"
"You said you have private business in Barbados--then off to London, I suppose? A ship as tidy as the Windsong, you could sail her right up the Thames into the Pool."
Hollee was finding it harder to deceive Nelson than he thought.
"Bell never goes to England if he can help it," Fanny said softly. "He hates England." Her eyes never moved from her sewing, but Hollee knew he was being paid back for his earlier outburst.
"Hate England, Captain Hollee?" Nelson said, honestly aghast. "How can you hate our mother country? Our home? The country which gave us Magna Carta and the Glorious Revolution, not to say spawned the greatest Navy the world has ever seen?"
"I left England for good when I was sixteen," Hollee explained. "It is simply that I have seen other parts of the world I prefer more. And perhaps there are parts of the world I have not yet seen that I would prefer still more. So, to prefer England above all others when I have not yet seen all the world seems to be somewhat...hasty."
Nelson smiled broadly. "You sound like some of my midshipman--full of life and hope and anxious for adventure and their next horizon." Hollee and Nelson could not have been a year apart in age, and Hollee disliked this man talking down to him as though he were a boy. "You will realise though that the world is small, and we must always have a place to call home."
"And why can't I call Nevis home?" Hollee said softly. For the first time, Nelson seemed to pick up on the tension between Hollee and Fanny, and he looked quickly from one to the other. As soon as Hollee saw this, he rose. "I am afraid I have trespassed on your hospitality for too long, Mrs. Nisbet. Pray consider what I have said." He reached down and took Fanny's hand, kissing it gently. "I may be gone for quite some time, so please think of me often and write me a letter when you can." Fanny looked as though she were about to say something, but then thought better of it with Captain NElson in the room with them.
"Thank you for stopping by, Captain Hollee," she replied. "It is always good to see you."
Hollee and Nelson shook hands in a perfunctory manner, and then Hollee was walking down the hallway. He stopped in front of the sideboard where Nelson's hat and his were sitting side by side--his faded brown felt, Nelson's black and shiny with braid. They could not have been more different, just like the men who wore them. Fanny must have seen that. If Nelson had been visiting, she could not honestly still think they were alike in their ambitiousness. But which would she prefer? The familiar, brown hat, or the new, stiff black one with it's braid?
Jamming his hat on his head, Hollee stepped out into the blinding sunlight and started for the port and the Windsong. Ambitious. How could he be considered ambitious? He never wanted to be--he wanted to sail, to trade, to work and to be left alone. Look where ambition got you. He had offered to buy a house for Fanny and she had scorned his offer as though it were an offer to play cards. What would Nelson offer her, Hollee mused, that he could not? The answer came too quickly iand it hurt as though he had been thumped on the back of the head. Of course--marriage to a Naval captain, a man who would always have employment, room for promotion, room for ambitions. John Waggs no doubt would say that Bell was being foolish, that Fanny had only known Nelson a week and anyway, she loved him, but Hollee knew better: Nelson was about to ship out as well, he had to move quickly if he thought Fanny would be a good match. Then no doubt John Waggs would say to him, well, Bell, why do you care who she should marry, if y' will not? John's accent echoed in his head, as loud as a conscious. Yes, Bell thought, what should I care, if I do not marry her, about who does? She's only Fanny, after all.
But all the way back to the port, he was filled with unaccountable sadness. Only Fanny. Dear Fan.
"Has he?" Hollee said, trying to keep his voice light. "I daresay he'll be busy once he decides to take possession of his ship. It's very good of him to entertain Josiah and let you have some leisure time."
Perhaps sensing she should not have mentioned the navy man, Fanny gracefully tacked the conversation. "And what about you? Where do you go next?"
"Charleston, but pray, do not mention that to Captain Nelson."
"Hollee, have I ever let you down?" she said, frowning playfully. "Why, when Captain Reeve was here the other night--did I ever for a moment let on that you and he were bosom companions?"
Hollee could not prevent himself from rolling his eyes. "It's a wonder that the Navy hasn't hauled you in for questioning, associating with a known American and a smuggler."
"I cannot believe the Navy doesn't have better things to do than to go chasing around after you. Why, there are rumors of a slave uprising to the North--never mind the fact that the Spanish are determined to increase their trade routes through here." Fanny had an instinctual understanding of the political web that overlaid the Caribbean islands, an understanding born of a woman's need to balance parties and conversations between feuding factions. "Honestly--just how much do they think you stand to make with your little ship?"
Hollee told her.
Fanny's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "I beg your pardon, Bell, I had no idea it was so much."
"I'm afraid I am deceiving you somewhat, for the number is lower depending on many things. Whether the ship needs repairs, the amount of crew, if I must replenish my gunpowder, et cetera, whether or not I must pay bribes. But yes, I manage to do all right for myself." Hollee looked away. Talking about money in polite society, was normally taboo.He had not meant to impress Fanny with his business dealings, only to demonstrate--modestly--that there was quite a bit at stake. Fanny looked thoughtful as she pulled a tiny needle through a ruffled collar. Hollee continued, "That is to say, the number sounds much grander than it is."
"How wonderful to not have to constantly worry about money." This said softly and wonderingly.
"Yes. No worries--only the Navy, pirates, and, let's not forget, acts of God." Hollee smiled conspiratorially. Then he leaned forward. "Fanny. I must apologise for the way I acted last week. It was most improper and rude."
"Not at all--"
"Pray, let me finish. I wish I could give you all the things you ask for. But I cannot. You must believe me when I tell you that I cannot marry you, though I hold you in the highest esteem. I would like to," he said quietly. "But I cannot. I have had you in my thoughts all this week, however, and I believe that I have hit on an idea which I am hoping will be pleasing to you. Earlier I mentioned my riches only to demonstrate that I am quite capable of what I am offering. Which is to say--I would like very much to buy you and Josiah a house of your own, where you can live comfortably without worry about your uncle's temper."
Fanny naturally looked quite shocked and surprized at his statement, which was not at all what she had been expecting. Her sewing was sitting forgotten on her knees again as she looked at him, her eyebrows moving together and apart in confusion as she tried to piece together the logistics of what he was saying. Hollee let her work it out for a second before saying, "Please think about it. Take as long as you like. Don't feel you have to answer me now, but consider it, please."
"A house of my own?" Fanny said, coloring. "With no obligation on my part? A gift--a gift from one friend to another?"
"Yes--," Hollee said, confused, he thought he had made that perfectly clear.
"Oh Bell. What would people say?"
"They will say nothing. They will say, 'Look how well Fanny Nisbet is taken care of!' if they say anything. There is nothing untoward about buying a house for someone."
"Or they will say, 'What has Fanny Nisbet done to deserve such a beautiful house?' and the gossip will start. Thank you for the offer, but--"
"You haven't even considered it."
"There's nothing to consider, I'm afraid. It is a lovely gesture, but I cannot accept it."
"But your uncle--you made it sound quite serious."
"Oh, it is serious, you're quite right there."
"Well then?"
"Even then I cannot accept your generous offer. I would not do that to my reputation--nor Josiah's--nor yours. Don't scoff, Captain, you will spend all your time away from Nevis, you won't have to hear a thing, but I would, and it would hurt me."
"And if your uncle makes good on his threat?"
"Then I shall--" Fanny threw up her hands in exasperation, "I don't know, I suppose I shall go back to England and live with my husband's family. Or become a governess."
Hollee shuddered. "You would leave Nevis--and me--just like that? For England?"
"It is one option."
"I hate England."
"Don't be petulant, Bell, you haven't been in England for sixteen years."
"I beg your pardon. Please consider what I am offering."
"You offer me a house. Nothing more. You will not marry me, but you will buy me a house. Do you honestly think I should be flattered that you are willing to invest your money in me, but not your life? Bell--dearest friend--why are you so adamant you won't have me?" Fanny shrank into her chair, uncertain. Her eyes were locked on his, suddenly frightened. "Are you already married?"
All Hollee could see was his dearest friend sitting across from him, looking petrified, awaiting his answer. Their pause was broken by a yell from outside, then a slow winding cry, as of a small boy who has had the wind knocked out of him, but has finally gotten it back just in time to alert the whole world he has been greatly wronged. Fanny, with a mother's sense tuned to any change, broke her gaze with Hollee and dashed outside. For his part, the captain stood to follow her, but paused. Out on the lawn, Nelson and Fanny were kneeling over the prone Josiah, who had evidently fallen out of a tree. Fanny was alternately hugging him and shaking him, and Nelson was expertly feeling for broken bones. Having decided there were none, the two adults put him back on his feet, where Josiah clung to Fanny's skirts and settled in for a good cry. She picked him up and they moved back towards the house.
"...you shall have a biscuit, my love, that will make you feel better. And a nice tall glass of lemonade." All over the house, servant ears were pricking up at her words and black hands were already hurrying towards tins and boxes, preparing a tray for Master Josiah. "Captain Nelson, thank you so much for looking out for him."
"Not at all, not at all. I only wish I could have sprouted wings and stopped him from falling altogether."
The little party re-entered the parlor. Nelson was surprized to see Hollee, and it took him a second to remember who the man was. He made a small bow and Hollee returned it, then sat down abruptly in his chair. Josiah was snuffling at his mother's neck and she was wiping his tears away with her handkerchief. Hollee tried not to be too repulsed by the sight of the tiny red tear-streaked boy, a far cry from the obedient little lad who turned pages for his mother in his best coat. Nelson, Hollee also noted meanly, had a grass-stain on one knee, and his queue was quite undone. Nelson seemed to become aware of this fact a second after Hollee noted it, for he quickly brushed his hair back off his face, dislodging some small twigs as he did so.
The Navy captain seemed to regain some of his former poise as he sank into a chair, however. He sat primly on the last eight inches, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.
"Thank you for taking Josiah outside," Fanny said. She continued to stroke her boy's hair as servants entered with a tray. They set it down noiselessly, replacing Fanny's cold teapot with a fresh one and disappeared. "I'm sure he appreciates it as well. Did you get to hold Captain Nelson's sword?" Fanny said to her son. Josiah nodded somberly, then more eagerly as he remembered the shiny gilt handle. "Was it heavy?"
"I could lift it!" he said and reached for a biscuit. Fanny intercepted his nose with her handkerchief and he blew noisily before finally getting his treat.
"He handled it very well," Nelson said gravely. "I am proud to say the English navy triumphed several times over the Americans this afternoon. Josiah will make a fine sailor some day."
Fanny smiled. "Why don't you go see if Susie needs some help in the kitchen?" she whispered to her son. He seemed loathe to leave this interesting world of adults, but after a few more prods and a couple more biscuits, he darted from the room, clattering down the hallway.
"They won't appreciate that I've sent him to them in the middle of the dinner preparations," Fanny said, smiling. "But perhaps he can be passed off to the barn. Come fall I must think about some schooling--I daresay he will be less than happy to sit quietly all day learning his lessons, but there it is." She decorously retrieved her sewing from where it had fallen in her flight and began to stitch once again.
Nelson was sipping tea, blowing on it to cool off the scalding liquid. Hollee marveled how quickly Fanny had moved through the moods of the afternoon. The emotional outburst between them had been replaced by the frantic worry and then soothing calm of a mother, and now she was once again the picture of the perfect hostess. His own heart was still hammering in his chest just from picturing her startled, drained face, looking at him with that uncertainty after she had turned down his offer. He felt as though he were sitting on a chair of nails--nothing could make him wish to stay, except that Nelson was sitting to his left. The stiff display he had demonstrated the week before was gone as if it had never existed, and he now looked perfectly at ease. Hollee felt an unfamiliar feeling race through him whenever he regarded the man.
Nelson continued to sip at his tea. Fanny seemed perfectly content to sew, and so the two men were forced to regard one another.
"Pray tell me, Captain Nelson, when do you take to your ship?" Hollee said, relieved to hear his voice in its normal register.
"Ah, three days from now. I have already been aboard to go over the ship's log and the papers with Captain Mannington, and to look over the crew, but we are still a few men short. As soon as my lieutenants have rounded up the requisite number, we shall set sail."
"Very good sir." Holle could not resist adding, "I hope you do not find any of my men, sir, we sail tomorrow. That is--if I have a full complement of seamen, naturally."
Nelson looked at him with interest. "Remind me again which ship is yours?" he said thoughtfully.
"The Windsong, Captain."
"Oh yes, of course. You must forgive me--I have met so many captains this past week, it is quite difficult to keep track of them all. Tell me, what is your destination once you shove off?"
Hollee felt the familiar mixed emotions moving within him. Really, for all his social posturing, the man had no idea how offensive he could be. Hollee felt like rising and leaving without saying a word. Instead he forced himself to reply. "Ch--Barbados, sir," he said. He could have bitten off his tongue. Instead of attending to the question he had let his dislike get the better of him and had practically admitted to the captain he was planning on breaking the law!
"Barbados, sir?" Nelson frowned. "Do you intend to take on a load of rum there?"
Hollee, who had blurted out the first island that came to mind south of Nevis, took a moment before he realised that Nelson was delicately asking if he participated in the slave trade. He straightened his back self-righteously. "Not at all, sir! I have a special commission to deliver some goods to Barbados."
"Ah, of course, forgive me."
"The Windsong has never been--nor will never be--a slaver," Hollee said vehemently. "I'd burn her to the waterline before I let her be used thus."
"Well said, sir. I couldn't agree more. It is a nasty, stinking business and no doubt about that." Nelson seemed pleased that they were in agreement on something, and Hollee could see the tally mark which made Hollee an ally in Nelson's fight against law-breakers. "And then off to England, I suppose?"
"Beg pardon?"
"You said you have private business in Barbados--then off to London, I suppose? A ship as tidy as the Windsong, you could sail her right up the Thames into the Pool."
Hollee was finding it harder to deceive Nelson than he thought.
"Bell never goes to England if he can help it," Fanny said softly. "He hates England." Her eyes never moved from her sewing, but Hollee knew he was being paid back for his earlier outburst.
"Hate England, Captain Hollee?" Nelson said, honestly aghast. "How can you hate our mother country? Our home? The country which gave us Magna Carta and the Glorious Revolution, not to say spawned the greatest Navy the world has ever seen?"
"I left England for good when I was sixteen," Hollee explained. "It is simply that I have seen other parts of the world I prefer more. And perhaps there are parts of the world I have not yet seen that I would prefer still more. So, to prefer England above all others when I have not yet seen all the world seems to be somewhat...hasty."
Nelson smiled broadly. "You sound like some of my midshipman--full of life and hope and anxious for adventure and their next horizon." Hollee and Nelson could not have been a year apart in age, and Hollee disliked this man talking down to him as though he were a boy. "You will realise though that the world is small, and we must always have a place to call home."
"And why can't I call Nevis home?" Hollee said softly. For the first time, Nelson seemed to pick up on the tension between Hollee and Fanny, and he looked quickly from one to the other. As soon as Hollee saw this, he rose. "I am afraid I have trespassed on your hospitality for too long, Mrs. Nisbet. Pray consider what I have said." He reached down and took Fanny's hand, kissing it gently. "I may be gone for quite some time, so please think of me often and write me a letter when you can." Fanny looked as though she were about to say something, but then thought better of it with Captain NElson in the room with them.
"Thank you for stopping by, Captain Hollee," she replied. "It is always good to see you."
Hollee and Nelson shook hands in a perfunctory manner, and then Hollee was walking down the hallway. He stopped in front of the sideboard where Nelson's hat and his were sitting side by side--his faded brown felt, Nelson's black and shiny with braid. They could not have been more different, just like the men who wore them. Fanny must have seen that. If Nelson had been visiting, she could not honestly still think they were alike in their ambitiousness. But which would she prefer? The familiar, brown hat, or the new, stiff black one with it's braid?
Jamming his hat on his head, Hollee stepped out into the blinding sunlight and started for the port and the Windsong. Ambitious. How could he be considered ambitious? He never wanted to be--he wanted to sail, to trade, to work and to be left alone. Look where ambition got you. He had offered to buy a house for Fanny and she had scorned his offer as though it were an offer to play cards. What would Nelson offer her, Hollee mused, that he could not? The answer came too quickly iand it hurt as though he had been thumped on the back of the head. Of course--marriage to a Naval captain, a man who would always have employment, room for promotion, room for ambitions. John Waggs no doubt would say that Bell was being foolish, that Fanny had only known Nelson a week and anyway, she loved him, but Hollee knew better: Nelson was about to ship out as well, he had to move quickly if he thought Fanny would be a good match. Then no doubt John Waggs would say to him, well, Bell, why do you care who she should marry, if y' will not? John's accent echoed in his head, as loud as a conscious. Yes, Bell thought, what should I care, if I do not marry her, about who does? She's only Fanny, after all.
But all the way back to the port, he was filled with unaccountable sadness. Only Fanny. Dear Fan.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
3.5 & Chapter 4
"Oh?" said John, "And how does the lady feel about this? She wants y' to marry her, doesn't she? What would she say if you told her you were thinking about a house instead?"
Hollee opened his mouth, but before he could reply, John held up his hand.
"I'm only sayin' mebbe y' should ask her first."
Chapter Four
By the time the week of enforced leisure was up, Bell Hollee thoroughly wished that he had never set foot on Nevis. Mr. Maccaby had pronounced himself well pleased with the stores that Hollee had brought ashore and had then spent an entire evening trying to convince Hollee to take several cases of fans to Boston. He seemed put out when Hollee refused, although he managed to sneak aboard a bolt of his famous red silk when Hollee wasn't looking. "We aren't selling to the loose women!" Hollee had said when he finally spotted it. "What merchant in his right mind would carry such fabric? It's blasphemy just to look at it!" But he had not removed it from the ship. Mr. Lamb, on the other hand, had sustained a bite from a cat while out taking his evening constitutional and was convinced it was the Windsong's beast. In his irking, non-offensive way he had conveyed to Hollee that should he become rabid he would hold the Windsong's captain responsible, prompting Hollee to hold out his hand and encourage Mr. Lamb bite him. "That way, sir, if you are in fact rabid, we shall both of us be mad together."
The ship's crew, naturally, finding themselves at leisure for a whole week, did not know what to make of it, and before three days were out, Hollee looked up from his desk to find three of his sailors standing sheepishly before him, their hats in their hands, looking for more pay. Hollee had directed them to Mr. Lamb, who could always use a few extra day-labourers, and had admonished them to follow the example of Mr. Hartelby (the ship's Methodist) next time. Mr. Pritchard at least had the good sense to get arrested with bribe money on him, so that he did not need to send for his captain to spring him out of gaol.
During his free hours, Hollee tidied his cabin, throwing away his old maps and purchasing a new set (so new they were drawn with "The United States of America" in place of the old colonies), sat in front of Queenie's unused fireplace and listened to her rail on about her dead lovers, and walked Nevis' beaches. He stayed at the Anchor and Crown for a pair of nights, waking both mornings with the sensation he was falling from his bunk--a sensation that was caused no doubt by the fact he was on solid land. The solitary actions were extraordinary. He was at perfect liberty to walk where he chose, to say whatever he wished and to sit perfectly still for long hours, options he could not enjoy aboard the Windsong. Perhaps it was knowing this that made him itch for his cabin and the constant attention that the sea required.
Then again, perhaps it was the pair of conversations he had had the first day he was here. Fanny's face continued to move in and out of his thoughts. And John's two cents' worth of advice rattled around as well, so that he was thoroughly confused. John was correct, absolutely, Fanny was no kin to him and therefore no consideration. And yet, he felt secure enough in his reputation that setting her up in a home of her own would reflect in no black mark either on her character or his own. It seemed such an elegant solution. He had enquired generally of Maccaby what sort of house his savings could afford and had learned that a modest dwelling on the edge of town was the best he could hope for. Enough room for Fanny and Josiah and a brace of servants to keep them comfortable. Certainly not the dozen room spread that was the Herbert plantation. But a comfortable dwelling.
"Mebbe y' should ask her first." John's pragmatic advice. Would Fanny be content in a house so small? Or was the more pertinent question--would Fanny be content in a house which he, Hollee, had bought for her? Would that be acceptable to her? It was all very well to create a plan and make enquiries if she was only going to turn him down. And soon, the obvious problem began to make itself clear: Hollee was going to have to return to the house to speak with Fanny. Their last confusing, awkward conversation was going to have to be addressed, clarifications made, explainations offered. Fanny's intentions could not have been clearer--she must be burning with embarassment for she had not contacted him in the past week--but what were Bell's intentions? Marry her. No. A house then. Yes. But what seemed so simple to him quickly became unravled in a tangled mess once he started to imagine the excrutiating conversation which must take place, a conversation which in his mind led more than once to tears and (on one memorable occasion) to his face being slapped.
So it was little wonder that Hollee put off the inevitable until the day before the Windsong set sail. Hollee had anxiously overseen the setting off the newly purchased mainsails that morning. After a fortifying lunch of kidneys, he turned his feet once more toward Herbert plantation. The day was hot and flat, the sun lolling in the sky like a impudent seagull that refuses to move when approached by a pedestrian. Sweat streamed out from under Hollee's hat as he moved briskly down the exposed boardwalk. Even the waves to his left seemed sluggish, they could barely must the energy to slap the wet sand before giving up and rushing back into the ocean, exhausted. Hollee had sent no word he was coming, and now he wondered if he should have at least sent a boy on ahead to give Fanny warning. What if she were in the middle of some project? (Although what ladies might do in the middle of the afternoon on a day like today Hollee had no idea) But, the plantation was coming into sight, it was too late now.
Nebuchanezzer was at the door as soon as Hollee came up the stairs. He seemed nervous when he took Hollee's hat, although he smiled widely as ever. "Mrs. Nesbit be in t' parlor," he said, gesturing. And he disappeared, leaving Hollee to walk forward through the spacious rooms alone.
The French doors leading to the patio were open wide as they had been on the night of the party, although this time sheer curtains moved sluggishly in the lazy breeze. Hollee quickly patted his forehead with a handkerchief, then paused as he turne to enter the parlor. A boy's yell had come from the backyard, and a second later Josiah went tumbling past, wearing a tricorn covered with gold braid and carrying a bright sword. He circled around and leapt onto a chair, brandishing the sword for all he was worth.
"Ye dogs!" his voice was sqeaky with excitement, "Ye cowardly American dogs! Come out and fight like men!"
"Who calls us cowards?!"
"I do! I do! Captain Nisbet!"
"The Captain Nisbet who fought Blackbeard and Barbarossa and beat them off single-handedly in the middle of the night with only a pair of cannon and a rusty cutlass?"
"Ay!"
"I hear he is a fearsome captain, but we shall have his ship for a prize and make it the flagship of the American Navy! For England! England!"
Small branches and twigs began to fly at Josiah, evidently "cannonballs" for they were accompanied by the sound of explosions, courtesy of the unseen player. Josiah called for his cannon to be rolled into position and began to return fire with a store of his own sticks. To Hollee's great surprize, the second speaker suddenly hove to into view--none other than Captain Nelson. His hair was askew, his arms were full of ammunition. The battle continued under Hollee's amazed eyes, until it became clear that Captain Nelson (or rather, the scurvy American dogs) were surely getting the worst of it. He sank to his knees--still "firing" valiantly--and Josiah boarded him by running up and dumping the rest of his ammunition directly onto Nelson's buff waistcoat and headbutting him for good measure. Nelson laughed, and his laugh was echoed in the room off to Hollee's right. He turned.
Fanny was sitting in the parlour, in front of the windows, her lap covered with forgotten sewing. Hollee suddenly realised he had been perfectly framed in the parlor door, and Fanny had been watching him as avidly as she had been watching her son play with the navy captain. She smiled at Hollee before turning and calling out the window: "Now Josiah, please, don't sink your prize or he won't come around to play with you. Captain Nelson--pray, if he gets too be a handful, do send him in to me!" She turned to Captain Hollee. "I daresay I am a bit more threatening than the American Navy. It's good to see you, Bell. Tea? Or something cooler?"
Hollee found himself quite wrong-footed. All his imagined conversations had started out with a startled, stammering Fanny needing to be reassured by his quiet, manly insistence that the conversation the week before had changed nothing between them. The smiling, perfectly at ease Fanny before him had been totally unanticipated.
"I..." he said, mentally cursing himself for such a brilliant beginning. "I wanted to speak to you to--to finish our conversation of the past week." That at least, had the effect of fading Fanny's smile somewhat. He hurried on. "However, as you have a guest, we can speak of it another time. Or perhaps I should call again."
"Oh, no, do sit down. We are hardly a party of three, as you can see," Fanny said, gesturing out the window where Nelson had been induced by his conquerer to hoist him into a palm-tree. "Do sit down and visit for awhile. We needn't speak of anything, if you like."
Watching Nelson handle Fanny's son so easily and familiarily made Hollee suddenly want to know how long the man had been there and if he had come before. He forced himself into the room, taking a chair that would not permit a clear view of the yard. A servant entered and left a glass of lemonade on the table beside him. It was cool and sweet when he lifted it to his lips, as much to avoid conversation as to cool his palate.
"I sail tomorrow," he said finally. "In the morning, if my crew remembers, that is. I thought I should be the world's rudest person if I did not call on you."
"I am very glad to see you," Fanny said, and for a second all was mended between them, it was as if no conversation had taken place and no interloper was present in the garden. Bell relaxed somewhat.
Hollee opened his mouth, but before he could reply, John held up his hand.
"I'm only sayin' mebbe y' should ask her first."
Chapter Four
By the time the week of enforced leisure was up, Bell Hollee thoroughly wished that he had never set foot on Nevis. Mr. Maccaby had pronounced himself well pleased with the stores that Hollee had brought ashore and had then spent an entire evening trying to convince Hollee to take several cases of fans to Boston. He seemed put out when Hollee refused, although he managed to sneak aboard a bolt of his famous red silk when Hollee wasn't looking. "We aren't selling to the loose women!" Hollee had said when he finally spotted it. "What merchant in his right mind would carry such fabric? It's blasphemy just to look at it!" But he had not removed it from the ship. Mr. Lamb, on the other hand, had sustained a bite from a cat while out taking his evening constitutional and was convinced it was the Windsong's beast. In his irking, non-offensive way he had conveyed to Hollee that should he become rabid he would hold the Windsong's captain responsible, prompting Hollee to hold out his hand and encourage Mr. Lamb bite him. "That way, sir, if you are in fact rabid, we shall both of us be mad together."
The ship's crew, naturally, finding themselves at leisure for a whole week, did not know what to make of it, and before three days were out, Hollee looked up from his desk to find three of his sailors standing sheepishly before him, their hats in their hands, looking for more pay. Hollee had directed them to Mr. Lamb, who could always use a few extra day-labourers, and had admonished them to follow the example of Mr. Hartelby (the ship's Methodist) next time. Mr. Pritchard at least had the good sense to get arrested with bribe money on him, so that he did not need to send for his captain to spring him out of gaol.
During his free hours, Hollee tidied his cabin, throwing away his old maps and purchasing a new set (so new they were drawn with "The United States of America" in place of the old colonies), sat in front of Queenie's unused fireplace and listened to her rail on about her dead lovers, and walked Nevis' beaches. He stayed at the Anchor and Crown for a pair of nights, waking both mornings with the sensation he was falling from his bunk--a sensation that was caused no doubt by the fact he was on solid land. The solitary actions were extraordinary. He was at perfect liberty to walk where he chose, to say whatever he wished and to sit perfectly still for long hours, options he could not enjoy aboard the Windsong. Perhaps it was knowing this that made him itch for his cabin and the constant attention that the sea required.
Then again, perhaps it was the pair of conversations he had had the first day he was here. Fanny's face continued to move in and out of his thoughts. And John's two cents' worth of advice rattled around as well, so that he was thoroughly confused. John was correct, absolutely, Fanny was no kin to him and therefore no consideration. And yet, he felt secure enough in his reputation that setting her up in a home of her own would reflect in no black mark either on her character or his own. It seemed such an elegant solution. He had enquired generally of Maccaby what sort of house his savings could afford and had learned that a modest dwelling on the edge of town was the best he could hope for. Enough room for Fanny and Josiah and a brace of servants to keep them comfortable. Certainly not the dozen room spread that was the Herbert plantation. But a comfortable dwelling.
"Mebbe y' should ask her first." John's pragmatic advice. Would Fanny be content in a house so small? Or was the more pertinent question--would Fanny be content in a house which he, Hollee, had bought for her? Would that be acceptable to her? It was all very well to create a plan and make enquiries if she was only going to turn him down. And soon, the obvious problem began to make itself clear: Hollee was going to have to return to the house to speak with Fanny. Their last confusing, awkward conversation was going to have to be addressed, clarifications made, explainations offered. Fanny's intentions could not have been clearer--she must be burning with embarassment for she had not contacted him in the past week--but what were Bell's intentions? Marry her. No. A house then. Yes. But what seemed so simple to him quickly became unravled in a tangled mess once he started to imagine the excrutiating conversation which must take place, a conversation which in his mind led more than once to tears and (on one memorable occasion) to his face being slapped.
So it was little wonder that Hollee put off the inevitable until the day before the Windsong set sail. Hollee had anxiously overseen the setting off the newly purchased mainsails that morning. After a fortifying lunch of kidneys, he turned his feet once more toward Herbert plantation. The day was hot and flat, the sun lolling in the sky like a impudent seagull that refuses to move when approached by a pedestrian. Sweat streamed out from under Hollee's hat as he moved briskly down the exposed boardwalk. Even the waves to his left seemed sluggish, they could barely must the energy to slap the wet sand before giving up and rushing back into the ocean, exhausted. Hollee had sent no word he was coming, and now he wondered if he should have at least sent a boy on ahead to give Fanny warning. What if she were in the middle of some project? (Although what ladies might do in the middle of the afternoon on a day like today Hollee had no idea) But, the plantation was coming into sight, it was too late now.
Nebuchanezzer was at the door as soon as Hollee came up the stairs. He seemed nervous when he took Hollee's hat, although he smiled widely as ever. "Mrs. Nesbit be in t' parlor," he said, gesturing. And he disappeared, leaving Hollee to walk forward through the spacious rooms alone.
The French doors leading to the patio were open wide as they had been on the night of the party, although this time sheer curtains moved sluggishly in the lazy breeze. Hollee quickly patted his forehead with a handkerchief, then paused as he turne to enter the parlor. A boy's yell had come from the backyard, and a second later Josiah went tumbling past, wearing a tricorn covered with gold braid and carrying a bright sword. He circled around and leapt onto a chair, brandishing the sword for all he was worth.
"Ye dogs!" his voice was sqeaky with excitement, "Ye cowardly American dogs! Come out and fight like men!"
"Who calls us cowards?!"
"I do! I do! Captain Nisbet!"
"The Captain Nisbet who fought Blackbeard and Barbarossa and beat them off single-handedly in the middle of the night with only a pair of cannon and a rusty cutlass?"
"Ay!"
"I hear he is a fearsome captain, but we shall have his ship for a prize and make it the flagship of the American Navy! For England! England!"
Small branches and twigs began to fly at Josiah, evidently "cannonballs" for they were accompanied by the sound of explosions, courtesy of the unseen player. Josiah called for his cannon to be rolled into position and began to return fire with a store of his own sticks. To Hollee's great surprize, the second speaker suddenly hove to into view--none other than Captain Nelson. His hair was askew, his arms were full of ammunition. The battle continued under Hollee's amazed eyes, until it became clear that Captain Nelson (or rather, the scurvy American dogs) were surely getting the worst of it. He sank to his knees--still "firing" valiantly--and Josiah boarded him by running up and dumping the rest of his ammunition directly onto Nelson's buff waistcoat and headbutting him for good measure. Nelson laughed, and his laugh was echoed in the room off to Hollee's right. He turned.
Fanny was sitting in the parlour, in front of the windows, her lap covered with forgotten sewing. Hollee suddenly realised he had been perfectly framed in the parlor door, and Fanny had been watching him as avidly as she had been watching her son play with the navy captain. She smiled at Hollee before turning and calling out the window: "Now Josiah, please, don't sink your prize or he won't come around to play with you. Captain Nelson--pray, if he gets too be a handful, do send him in to me!" She turned to Captain Hollee. "I daresay I am a bit more threatening than the American Navy. It's good to see you, Bell. Tea? Or something cooler?"
Hollee found himself quite wrong-footed. All his imagined conversations had started out with a startled, stammering Fanny needing to be reassured by his quiet, manly insistence that the conversation the week before had changed nothing between them. The smiling, perfectly at ease Fanny before him had been totally unanticipated.
"I..." he said, mentally cursing himself for such a brilliant beginning. "I wanted to speak to you to--to finish our conversation of the past week." That at least, had the effect of fading Fanny's smile somewhat. He hurried on. "However, as you have a guest, we can speak of it another time. Or perhaps I should call again."
"Oh, no, do sit down. We are hardly a party of three, as you can see," Fanny said, gesturing out the window where Nelson had been induced by his conquerer to hoist him into a palm-tree. "Do sit down and visit for awhile. We needn't speak of anything, if you like."
Watching Nelson handle Fanny's son so easily and familiarily made Hollee suddenly want to know how long the man had been there and if he had come before. He forced himself into the room, taking a chair that would not permit a clear view of the yard. A servant entered and left a glass of lemonade on the table beside him. It was cool and sweet when he lifted it to his lips, as much to avoid conversation as to cool his palate.
"I sail tomorrow," he said finally. "In the morning, if my crew remembers, that is. I thought I should be the world's rudest person if I did not call on you."
"I am very glad to see you," Fanny said, and for a second all was mended between them, it was as if no conversation had taken place and no interloper was present in the garden. Bell relaxed somewhat.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Saturday, February 23, 2008
3.3
John did not argue with him.
“I have other things to worry about—my business,” Hollee hurried on, trying to explain himself. “Which may seem selfish, but think of our reputation—think of our crew. I cannot allow myself to get distracted just now.”
“Fan’s a distraction now, is she?”
“You know what I mean. Up until yesterday we were friends, nothing more. Now it is most confusing.”
“So you’d rather things carried on as before, only instead a’ visiting her by her Uncle Herbert, you’ll do it in a house you buy for her. Sounds clear as mud to me,” John said. Hollee sighed.
“She is a woman, she is supposed to be looked after by her kin. I don’t know why she wants me to help her out.”
“Did she ask for your help?”
“Not directly, no.”
“Perhaps she’d like to be kin to you, Bell, did y’ ever think a’ that?”
“I don’t even understand why she is so worried. Certainly she must have money left to her by her husband. Surely she could fend for herself.”
“And who do you think’s looking out for her money right now? D’ y’ honestly think she could walk into a bank and open an account there? And what about when Josiah gets older and needs a father? She’s thinking about him as well, Bell.”
Hollee opened his mouth to speak and then paused. The memory of the night before flashed across his mind—his hair is the same colour as yours—funny that, for he had been thinking precisely the same thing about Fanny’s hair.
“…determined to be stubborn, then leave the poor woman alone. Y’ can’t set her up in a house you bought for her and not expect her to expect certain things. You’re right, you know—you’re no kin to her, you’ve no reason to feel like you need to help her. So stay away from her.”
“I have other things to worry about—my business,” Hollee hurried on, trying to explain himself. “Which may seem selfish, but think of our reputation—think of our crew. I cannot allow myself to get distracted just now.”
“Fan’s a distraction now, is she?”
“You know what I mean. Up until yesterday we were friends, nothing more. Now it is most confusing.”
“So you’d rather things carried on as before, only instead a’ visiting her by her Uncle Herbert, you’ll do it in a house you buy for her. Sounds clear as mud to me,” John said. Hollee sighed.
“She is a woman, she is supposed to be looked after by her kin. I don’t know why she wants me to help her out.”
“Did she ask for your help?”
“Not directly, no.”
“Perhaps she’d like to be kin to you, Bell, did y’ ever think a’ that?”
“I don’t even understand why she is so worried. Certainly she must have money left to her by her husband. Surely she could fend for herself.”
“And who do you think’s looking out for her money right now? D’ y’ honestly think she could walk into a bank and open an account there? And what about when Josiah gets older and needs a father? She’s thinking about him as well, Bell.”
Hollee opened his mouth to speak and then paused. The memory of the night before flashed across his mind—his hair is the same colour as yours—funny that, for he had been thinking precisely the same thing about Fanny’s hair.
“…determined to be stubborn, then leave the poor woman alone. Y’ can’t set her up in a house you bought for her and not expect her to expect certain things. You’re right, you know—you’re no kin to her, you’ve no reason to feel like you need to help her. So stay away from her.”
Friday, February 22, 2008
3.2
The events of the night had been sloshing around in Hollee’s brain, and now they started to form a coherent pattern. “I did. I think we have a problem, John. The man is named Nelson—and he is the king’s man through and through. He swore to me that he was duty-bound to uphold the king’s laws. I don’t mean that he is an honest man, only that he has a very clear sense of what is right and what is wrong. His king is right, and so, therefore, we must be wrong.” He sighed. “It is very discouraging.”
John considered. “The way I see it, y’ have two choices. Y’ can either take on a cargo and run your chances, or, y’ can stay away for awhile, and see how other captains fare.”
“I could also abide by the law, don’t forget.”
“Tha’s true,” John said unhelpfully. He slurped his coffee. “There’s plenty a’ colonies left, after all. No sense in running up to America if it’ll only bring you grief. Why not think more on what Mr. Maccaby was saying? You could sell the Windy, buy a new ship, start running in and out a’ England. Or Africa, if you like.”
Hollee blanched. “I would never consider becoming a slaver!” he said vehemently.
“Did I say slaves. I did not. There’s other things come out a’ Africa besides slaves, I’m bound.”
“I was thinking about buying a house, actually.”
John looked at him, surprised. “Were you now? What brought that on?”
Hollee realized the turbulence in his mind had less to do with that man Nelson (Nelson he could handle when the time came), than it did with the image of Fanny looking at him, so disappointed and so beautiful in the moonlight. He leaned toward his first mate, intending to convey the conversation of the night before when his field of vision was once more cut off by Queenie’s calico-covered bosom. She heaved a plate of sausages and beef onto the table, followed by a bowl of hard-boiled eggs, then a small wooden trencher of salt and finally, another mug of coffee. Hollee pulled the coffee towards him and sipped it delicately. It burned his throat, but the fresh, strong taste was worth the pain.
Queenie sat down on the other side of him. She was wearing a red calico dress with a flamboyant yellow apron pinned over the top of it. Her grizzled grey hair was tied up under a piece of the same material. It was rumored that her mother had been the most famous beauty in the whole islands, and her father had been a Navy admiral, but the only hint of her parentage left was her flawless, coffee-with-milk coloured skin and her startling hazel eyes. The only wrinkles on her face appeared when she smiled, pointing directly to those eyes. She patted Hollee on his arm and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Now then, Master Bell, it is good to see ye,” she said approvingly. “I can’t remember t’ last time you been in here. I been looking out for you ever seen Captain Reeve came looking for you last week—“ Hollee groaned inwardly—was the whole island to know he knew that dreadful man?—“and then, last night, Mr. John here comes in for supper and I says ‘Now where is your captain, John?’ and bless me if he doesn’t tell me you’ve been invited up to Mr. Herbert’s big house. Well! You could ha’ knocked me over wit’ a feather, that’s the truth. Aren’t we moving in some mighty fine circles now, aren’t we?”
“Mr. Hollee was just about to tell me about tha’ party, Queenie,” John put in, his eyes glowing mischeviously.
“I thought I had,” Hollee replied peevishly.
“Only that you did not care for the king’s new man, on account a’ he’s determined to uphold the king’s law—which is no reason to dislike a man, Bell.”
“Is that what everyone’s so hot under t’ collar about?” Queenie said. “No one tells me anything. Yesterday, it’s all my mens can talk about—this captain, that captain—I can’t keep all a’ ye straight!”
“Captain Mannington is going back to England—“
“Oh, I never liked him, he never come in here.”
“—and he is being replaced by a new man, who, I suspect, you’ll not see in here either,” Hollee finished succinctly.
“Oh, then I don’t like him either.”
“Just so.” Hollee took another sip of his coffee and when he found it had cooled somewhat took a larger gulp. “See John? No sugar, no milk—just the way God intended.”
“If God had not wanted me to have sugar, he would not have made it taste so wonderful,” John said reasonably. “But come now—surely you did not spend all night disliking the new fellow. What’s the news up at the Herbert House? Did you see Miss Fanny?”
“Do you mean Mrs. Nisbet?”
John grinned impishly. “The very one.” Fanny had actually had the grizzled old sailor to tea one afternoon, an event which John never quite got over—the beautiful young woman serving him tea in fine bone china, his callused fingers so thick he could barely hold the delicate teacups. “I hope you passed along my compliments.”
“I did not, unfortunately, because you forgot to send them.”
Queenie smacked him affectionately on the back of the head. “You be no gentleman, Bell Hollee!” she crowed.
Hollee inclined his head, shrugging. “You can’t say fairer than that.”
John looked at Hollee’s face. Hollee’s expression had gone from its normal peevish haughtiness to something a little sadder and more unguarded. “Hollee—you did speak to t’ woman last night, did y’ not?”
“Of course I did, John, she was the only person there I knew!”
“And she’s all right-she’s not sick or anything, is she?”
“Not to the best of my knowledge.”
Queenie had picked up on the subtle clues that were passing between John and Bell with a woman’s intuition. She leaned back slightly and put one weighty forearm on the table. “Bell Hollee, you be in love wi’ that woman!” she said, aghast. Bell Hollee had never, to the best of her understandings, been in love with anyone.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Queenie!”
But Hollee might as well have jumped up on the table and reciting poetry, for his swift outburst only confirmed what Queenie could see written across his face, plain as day. Her eyes quickly retreated back into their crow’s nest of wrinkles as she smiled broadly. “Well, that is the beatenest thing, I do declare! Bell Hollee—in love. And she? What does she think of that?”
Hollee refused to answer, instead cutting up his sausages and delivering them to his mouth with a speed which quite defied imagination. Queenie refused to be put off. She leaned forward to speak around Hollee to John, with the effect that Hollee was even more squashed between the two. “Did you know anything about this?”
“No, I never did, by my soul. All I thought they was was friends. What do you think about it?”
“I think Miss Fanny could do worse. Oh—she could do better too, that’s the truth.”
“D’ you know, Mr. Hollee just told me, just now, tha’ is, that he was thinking about buying a house. I was wondering who was going to look after the place while he was at sea, well, now I know, I guess.”
“You are jumping to wild speculations. You have nothing to back up your claims, which are most spurious at any point, and false, and I should call you out for infamy, John, if you weren’t so ancient and you, Queenie, if you didn’t suffer from a most ill-timed malaise, by that I mean the curse of your sex, by that I mean—oh—“ for Hollee had gotten quite lost in his sentence by this point, “Oh, cease this at once. You are being foolish. And there is nothing further to discuss.”
Queenie had been chuckling softly, but she stopped when she saw that Hollee was really—truly—angry. Her face grew serious and her voice came more softly. She patted his arm. “Bell,” she said, “You know how I care for ye, and I worry about ye, and not just when you’re gone for weeks at a time, no. You a man who needs looking after. You a man who could benefit a great deal from a wife, just remember that.” She patted his arm again and rose. “I get you some more coffee.”
As she moved away from them, John leaned in. Hollee turned, ready fend off his jokes again, but the sailor’s face had grown as grave as Queenie’s. “I jest, Bell, but is it true? D’y’ love her?”
Hollee did not look directly at him. “It hardly matters where my feelings come into this, it appears,” he said dryly. “Fanny told me a most disturbing piece of news last night—a secret I cannot share with you, John, I’m sure you understand—“ John nodded “—but if it’s true, she will need a new place to call home by the end of August.” Hollee paused. “I cannot think so ill of Herbert, but I have no doubt that what she told me of his conduct is true. And I cannot bear to think of Fanny out on the charity of her poor cousins, or worse, working for herself. So perhaps, I could buy her a house. A small house, to be sure, but a place of her own. There—living on her own, or perhaps with another lady, she would be quite protected from harm or the winds of change.” Hollee put his hands flat on the table, staring down at his half-eaten breakfast. “She would like to marry me, John. I believe she loves me, and I even…I could even go so far as to say I have feelings for her.” Hollee raised his eyes to his friend’s. “But I cannot marry her.”
John considered. “The way I see it, y’ have two choices. Y’ can either take on a cargo and run your chances, or, y’ can stay away for awhile, and see how other captains fare.”
“I could also abide by the law, don’t forget.”
“Tha’s true,” John said unhelpfully. He slurped his coffee. “There’s plenty a’ colonies left, after all. No sense in running up to America if it’ll only bring you grief. Why not think more on what Mr. Maccaby was saying? You could sell the Windy, buy a new ship, start running in and out a’ England. Or Africa, if you like.”
Hollee blanched. “I would never consider becoming a slaver!” he said vehemently.
“Did I say slaves. I did not. There’s other things come out a’ Africa besides slaves, I’m bound.”
“I was thinking about buying a house, actually.”
John looked at him, surprised. “Were you now? What brought that on?”
Hollee realized the turbulence in his mind had less to do with that man Nelson (Nelson he could handle when the time came), than it did with the image of Fanny looking at him, so disappointed and so beautiful in the moonlight. He leaned toward his first mate, intending to convey the conversation of the night before when his field of vision was once more cut off by Queenie’s calico-covered bosom. She heaved a plate of sausages and beef onto the table, followed by a bowl of hard-boiled eggs, then a small wooden trencher of salt and finally, another mug of coffee. Hollee pulled the coffee towards him and sipped it delicately. It burned his throat, but the fresh, strong taste was worth the pain.
Queenie sat down on the other side of him. She was wearing a red calico dress with a flamboyant yellow apron pinned over the top of it. Her grizzled grey hair was tied up under a piece of the same material. It was rumored that her mother had been the most famous beauty in the whole islands, and her father had been a Navy admiral, but the only hint of her parentage left was her flawless, coffee-with-milk coloured skin and her startling hazel eyes. The only wrinkles on her face appeared when she smiled, pointing directly to those eyes. She patted Hollee on his arm and gave his hand a squeeze.
“Now then, Master Bell, it is good to see ye,” she said approvingly. “I can’t remember t’ last time you been in here. I been looking out for you ever seen Captain Reeve came looking for you last week—“ Hollee groaned inwardly—was the whole island to know he knew that dreadful man?—“and then, last night, Mr. John here comes in for supper and I says ‘Now where is your captain, John?’ and bless me if he doesn’t tell me you’ve been invited up to Mr. Herbert’s big house. Well! You could ha’ knocked me over wit’ a feather, that’s the truth. Aren’t we moving in some mighty fine circles now, aren’t we?”
“Mr. Hollee was just about to tell me about tha’ party, Queenie,” John put in, his eyes glowing mischeviously.
“I thought I had,” Hollee replied peevishly.
“Only that you did not care for the king’s new man, on account a’ he’s determined to uphold the king’s law—which is no reason to dislike a man, Bell.”
“Is that what everyone’s so hot under t’ collar about?” Queenie said. “No one tells me anything. Yesterday, it’s all my mens can talk about—this captain, that captain—I can’t keep all a’ ye straight!”
“Captain Mannington is going back to England—“
“Oh, I never liked him, he never come in here.”
“—and he is being replaced by a new man, who, I suspect, you’ll not see in here either,” Hollee finished succinctly.
“Oh, then I don’t like him either.”
“Just so.” Hollee took another sip of his coffee and when he found it had cooled somewhat took a larger gulp. “See John? No sugar, no milk—just the way God intended.”
“If God had not wanted me to have sugar, he would not have made it taste so wonderful,” John said reasonably. “But come now—surely you did not spend all night disliking the new fellow. What’s the news up at the Herbert House? Did you see Miss Fanny?”
“Do you mean Mrs. Nisbet?”
John grinned impishly. “The very one.” Fanny had actually had the grizzled old sailor to tea one afternoon, an event which John never quite got over—the beautiful young woman serving him tea in fine bone china, his callused fingers so thick he could barely hold the delicate teacups. “I hope you passed along my compliments.”
“I did not, unfortunately, because you forgot to send them.”
Queenie smacked him affectionately on the back of the head. “You be no gentleman, Bell Hollee!” she crowed.
Hollee inclined his head, shrugging. “You can’t say fairer than that.”
John looked at Hollee’s face. Hollee’s expression had gone from its normal peevish haughtiness to something a little sadder and more unguarded. “Hollee—you did speak to t’ woman last night, did y’ not?”
“Of course I did, John, she was the only person there I knew!”
“And she’s all right-she’s not sick or anything, is she?”
“Not to the best of my knowledge.”
Queenie had picked up on the subtle clues that were passing between John and Bell with a woman’s intuition. She leaned back slightly and put one weighty forearm on the table. “Bell Hollee, you be in love wi’ that woman!” she said, aghast. Bell Hollee had never, to the best of her understandings, been in love with anyone.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Queenie!”
But Hollee might as well have jumped up on the table and reciting poetry, for his swift outburst only confirmed what Queenie could see written across his face, plain as day. Her eyes quickly retreated back into their crow’s nest of wrinkles as she smiled broadly. “Well, that is the beatenest thing, I do declare! Bell Hollee—in love. And she? What does she think of that?”
Hollee refused to answer, instead cutting up his sausages and delivering them to his mouth with a speed which quite defied imagination. Queenie refused to be put off. She leaned forward to speak around Hollee to John, with the effect that Hollee was even more squashed between the two. “Did you know anything about this?”
“No, I never did, by my soul. All I thought they was was friends. What do you think about it?”
“I think Miss Fanny could do worse. Oh—she could do better too, that’s the truth.”
“D’ you know, Mr. Hollee just told me, just now, tha’ is, that he was thinking about buying a house. I was wondering who was going to look after the place while he was at sea, well, now I know, I guess.”
“You are jumping to wild speculations. You have nothing to back up your claims, which are most spurious at any point, and false, and I should call you out for infamy, John, if you weren’t so ancient and you, Queenie, if you didn’t suffer from a most ill-timed malaise, by that I mean the curse of your sex, by that I mean—oh—“ for Hollee had gotten quite lost in his sentence by this point, “Oh, cease this at once. You are being foolish. And there is nothing further to discuss.”
Queenie had been chuckling softly, but she stopped when she saw that Hollee was really—truly—angry. Her face grew serious and her voice came more softly. She patted his arm. “Bell,” she said, “You know how I care for ye, and I worry about ye, and not just when you’re gone for weeks at a time, no. You a man who needs looking after. You a man who could benefit a great deal from a wife, just remember that.” She patted his arm again and rose. “I get you some more coffee.”
As she moved away from them, John leaned in. Hollee turned, ready fend off his jokes again, but the sailor’s face had grown as grave as Queenie’s. “I jest, Bell, but is it true? D’y’ love her?”
Hollee did not look directly at him. “It hardly matters where my feelings come into this, it appears,” he said dryly. “Fanny told me a most disturbing piece of news last night—a secret I cannot share with you, John, I’m sure you understand—“ John nodded “—but if it’s true, she will need a new place to call home by the end of August.” Hollee paused. “I cannot think so ill of Herbert, but I have no doubt that what she told me of his conduct is true. And I cannot bear to think of Fanny out on the charity of her poor cousins, or worse, working for herself. So perhaps, I could buy her a house. A small house, to be sure, but a place of her own. There—living on her own, or perhaps with another lady, she would be quite protected from harm or the winds of change.” Hollee put his hands flat on the table, staring down at his half-eaten breakfast. “She would like to marry me, John. I believe she loves me, and I even…I could even go so far as to say I have feelings for her.” Hollee raised his eyes to his friend’s. “But I cannot marry her.”
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