Burning Bright (17 page)

“Some of the beaches are rockier than this, and they have more interesting wildlife, but I think your footwear would not survive it.”

“I agree. Captain—” She hesitated.

“Miss Pembroke?”

“You did not need to put yourself out so for me.”

Ramsay turned and began walking away down the beach, close to where the water rose and fell on the shore. Spent waves lapped at the soles of his boots. Elinor followed, somewhat higher on the sand; her footwear would not withstand a solid wetting any more than it would a hard, rocky shore. “There are many Extraordinaries serving in the Navy, did you know?” Ramsay said without turning his head. “The Admiralty spreads us out as widely as possible, to get the best use of our talents, and it’s rare to have more than one on a ship.
Athena
may be the only one in the service with three.” He kicked at a wave and made a splash that spattered his breeches. “And Peregrine, bless his heart, is rather focused on his scientific pursuits—I hope he doesn’t become so caught up in his search for that elusive sparrow he keeps claiming is here that he forgets to return on time. Though it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to hunt him down.”

“And I am an Extraordinary.”

“I realize it’s a narrow thread to hang a friendship on, but…it’s more than just talent, being Extraordinary; there’s as big a gap between us and an ordinary talent as there is between a talent and a non-talented person. Arthur is a Speaker and my closest friend, and even he can’t entirely bridge that gap.” He turned and faced Elinor, but continued walking backward, completely unconcerned at the possibility of tripping and falling. “And you are interesting, Miss Pembroke. I’ve thought that since we met.”

Elinor blushed and averted her eyes. “I…Captain, I have regretted not apologizing to you for my hasty words that night—”

“No need. I put you at a disadvantage, and you reacted as anyone would have. I didn’t know who you were at the time—had to ask Penelope, Lady Ormerod that is, and I guessed you might have been under some strain that evening, what with all those people watching to see if you were going to burst into flame.”

Elinor laughed, and said, “That would indeed be a show. Fire burns me as it does anyone.”

“I didn’t realize, but I suppose that makes sense.” He looked past her shoulder, then to her surprise retreated to the dry sand, sat down and removed his boots. “We’re out of sight of
Athena
,” he said to her baffled face, “and I can afford to shed some of my dignity. And I’ve liked wading since I was a boy.” He took off his stockings, tossed his coat over them, and trotted back down to the water, wading in until the waves were past his ankles. “You might try it, Miss Pembroke,” he called. “You can hardly be worried about your respectability at this point.”

Elinor gasped, then laughed. “I think I am extremely respectable”—she removed her shoes—“and demure”—she tugged off one stocking, then the other—“and I think the proof of that is in my enduring Mr. Selkirk’s company without snubbing him in self-defense.” She walked down the shore to join Ramsay, lifting her skirts a little to keep them out of the water.

“If he’s disturbing you, I can stop inviting him to dine at my table,” Ramsay said. “I can barely stand the man myself, man of God or no.” He dug his toes into the soft sand as a wavelet washed over his bare feet.

“He is too self-absorbed to respond to any but the strongest deterrent, I think, and I cannot bring myself to give him that. It is not his fault he is a…a…”

“A shallow, prating fool covered with a veneer of faux holiness?”

“That seems unfair to him. At least his faith seems genuine.”

“Possibly. But he thinks his Discernment gives him more of a window into the human soul than the simple ability to feel others’ emotions.”

“And he seems to misinterpret what he
does
perceive. I thought Discerners were, well, more discerning than that.”

“Some are simply more skilled than others, I suppose. Fortunately, he’s not an Extraordinary Discerner and has to touch people to feel what they feel, because he wouldn’t be able to avoid knowing how disdainful I am of him. He probably means well, but I don’t like him trying to be everyone’s best friend and confidant. It’s intrusive and inappropriate. I’d like to have him reassigned, but I’m afraid no one else wants him either. And the truth is he’s not a bad man, and I’d feel guilty giving him such a decisive shove when he’s always been respectful of me. Though I’m afraid he sees me as a heathen in need of converting.”

“He sees
me
as a kindred spirit. I am quite cast down wondering what it is about me that he sees as his kin.”

Ramsay laughed at that. “You did make the colossal mistake of admitting you were from Hertfordshire. I have never seen anyone try so hard to discover common acquaintances.” He kicked up some water, splashing Elinor’s hem and making her dance quickly backward. “My apologies.”

“Pray do not ruin my gown, I have only the four.”

“You travel light, for a gentlewoman.”

“I did bring my best evening gown, Captain.”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you that kind of entertainment, but I think I could arrange a concert, if you enjoy the fiddle and flute. Mr. Worsley can play most of Beethoven’s Fifth on the nose-harp—”

“Stop, pray, or I shall be unable to breathe from laughing!”

“But it’s all true! We have several Welshmen, you know how they are for singing, and Hawkes and Geneally on the starboard number five gun carry their fifes at all times. Of course they won’t play for the officers, but you can sit in the companionway and listen to their dulcet music.”

Elinor covered her mouth to hold in her laughter. “I depend upon you to arrange it, Captain.”

“My pleasure. And now I think we should dry off and return to the ship. Even in springtime the afternoon sun in these latitudes can be brutal.”

They Flew back at much greater speed than before, Elinor spreading her arms wide to pretend it was the wind buoying her up. She felt her spirits buoyed as well, but not by the wind; it was good to have a friend, and Ramsay was right: there was a divide between her and the other talents on the ship that simply didn’t exist between her and Ramsay, or even between her and Hays. It had been a long time since she had felt so comfortable with anyone but Selina. She looked up to where Ramsay Flew overhead, looping about while keeping her perfectly level, and felt that kinship Selkirk didn’t have; she knew joy in an Extraordinary talent when she saw it.

The sun had fully set, and the lamp swaying gently over the captain’s table turned the windows into a row of mirrors that reflected Elinor’s face poorly. Her eyebrows looked particularly fierce tonight, though that could be the shadows. She traced their line on the glass, then snatched her finger away when the door behind her opened and men’s voices preceded Ramsay and his officers into the great cabin.

“Good evening, Miss Pembroke,” the captain said. “Won’t you join us?”

He held the chair to his left politely while she sat, then there was a general scraping of chairs and shifting of bodies as the men joined her. Dolph and two other seamen, all of them dressed as nicely as they could manage, began bringing dishes out. The table was not large enough for proper removes, but Dolph always managed at least two courses: plain food, but delicious.

“Thank you,” Ramsay said as Dolph set out a tureen of clear soup, and dipped the ladle into the broth to serve Elinor only to be interrupted by a discreet cough.

“If you would allow me to say grace, Captain?” said Selkirk, one hand half-raised as if he were answering a prim schoolmarm’s question. He turned his saintly expression on Ramsay, and Ramsay let the ladle fall with a small splash, sitting back in his chair and gesturing his permission. Selkirk nodded, clasped his hands in front of him and bowed his head; around the table, the other officers adopted varying poses of reverence. Elinor bowed her head, but looked sidelong at Ramsay, who had rested his elbows on the table and propped his head on his clasped hands. Elinor had seen this drama play out with little variation every evening Selkirk had joined them at the table, but she judged Ramsay’s seeming indifference to religion had more to do with his disdain for Selkirk than for any innate impiety.

“Our Father,” Selkirk began in a loud voice, and Elinor turned her attention elsewhere. When Selkirk began his grace with Our Father, he always followed it with a homily Elinor was certain was inappropriate in a blessing over food. The soup would probably be lukewarm when it finally reached her bowl.

“In Thy name, amen,” Selkirk said. Elinor muttered her reply with the others. Ramsay proceeded to serve Elinor as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

“I hope you enjoyed Tenerife, Miss Pembroke,” he said, sounding far more formal than he had on the beach that day. “We should remain in harbor here a few more days, let everyone stretch their legs.”

“And then stretch them again when we round up the men,” Livingston said, irritated. “All of them drunk, probably.”

“Let them work it out ashore,” Ramsay said. “Give them a chance to enjoy themselves before the real work begins. They’ll work better if they know they’re being treated fairly.”

“Generous of you, Captain,” Livingston said, and raised his glass to Ramsay before draining it and pouring himself another. Ramsay returned the salute with a tight smile and took a sip from his own glass.

“I’ll be going ashore again tomorrow,” Hays said. “Still on the hunt for
Regulus regulus teneriffae
. Absurd how well the little creature has hidden itself from me; the place is supposed to be thronged with it. Though Tenerife is unique in more ways than its fauna, since it has those active volcanoes.”

“You mean it might go off again?” Gibbons said, his thin face going pale enough to make his spots stand out red against the background. Elinor privately thought him too young to be a lieutenant of anything, let alone of a detachment of Marines.

“Oh, no,” Hays laughed, “it’s unlikely. And even if it does, we’ll have plenty of warning. There’s nothing to fear.”

“I don’t know—”

“Come, man, show some backbone,” Livingston drawled. “Don’t be letting the side down in front of the ladies.” He directed a lazy smile at Selkirk, who reddened. Livingston’s cheeks looked red too. Elinor had not been watching him, but she was certain he had had more than a few glasses of wine already.

“Mr. Livingston, would you mind passing that dish by your elbow?” said Sampson Brown, who had been silently making his way through his meal until then. The sailing master was round and had a fringe of black hair circling his head that made him look like a medieval monk. Elinor could not remember hearing him speak before. He communicated with Ramsay through a system of grunts and nods that was as good as a language for both of them, and she thought they must be good friends, because Ramsay frequently invited him to join him for meals.

Livingston straightened in his seat and handed the platter across. As he handed it over, Hays said, “I believe I may have to go some distance farther inland to find what I seek.”

“That won’t be possible on this trip, Mr. Hays, but I’ll keep it in mind,” Ramsay said. “Sampson, I’d like some of that, if you would pass it this way.”

Brown grunted and handed it over. Livingston poured himself another glass of wine and drank deeply. “Don’t suppose the rest of us’ll see much more than the harbor,” he said.

“Plenty of time for that when we reach Bermuda,” Beaumont said. “Unless you know more about our orders than what’s on the paper.”

“Admiral Durrant will give us more detailed instructions,” Ramsay said, “though I can’t imagine they won’t have something to do with the Brethren of the Coast.”

“Excuse me, Captain, but who are the Brethren of the Coast?” Elinor said, lowering her fork.

Livingston laughed. “Thought you were well-read, Miss Pembroke. You’ve never heard of them?”

“They’re a group of men who’ve been directing the activities of the pirates along the American coasts and in the Caribbean,” Ramsay said, overriding the beginnings of Elinor’s angry retort. “Admiral Durrant has yet to capture or kill any of them and…saying they’re a thorn in his side is an understatement.”

“I apologize for my ignorance, Captain”—Elinor shot a glare at Livingston, who smirked at her while topping up his wine glass again—“but I thought pirates were independent operators. From what little I have heard, they sound more like… like Italian outlaws holding wealthy captives for ransom.”

“A hundred years ago, they
were
more independent. The closest they came to organization was Henry Morgan’s loose band of pirates and privateers. But now Rhys Evans, their leader, controls almost all the ships, tells them where to go and which ships to take and how to treat the captives. His strategy is to encourage the merchant ships to convince their governments to pay an ongoing ransom in exchange for the pirates not molesting their ships.”

“It’s working, too,” said Beaumont. “Spain gave in about three years ago and the pirates haven’t attacked them since. Well, the Brethren pirates haven’t. There are still independents working the seas, but if Evans catches ‘em, he makes an example of ‘em.”