Authors: Madeline Evering
“The guns have been cleaned and the
charges lay ready for this afternoon’s exercises, sir.” Matthews reported to
his stern faced captain. Captain Knight looked at Matthews with an attempt at
reserve but the older man’s infectious good will tempered his coolness. “Very
good, Mr. Matthews,” Captain Knight began; “You seem to be more than usually diligent.
Whatever can be inspiring such activity today?” he finished with a wry smile. “Ahh!”
Matthews harrumphed, flashing a wicked grin at his captain, “Sure you know,
sir, that I have a lovely girl awaiting me. Catherine will have unpacked her
trunk by now and I’m sure she’s brought me some treasure from home!” “Of
course, Mr. Matthews,” Knight replied with warmth. “Well, off with you then; I
would not wish to disrupt the young lady’s entertainment with the work of a
ship.”
Captain Knight watched Matthews race off in search of Miss Gibson
with amused curiosity. That she should elicit familial feeling in the lieutenant
was understandable – she was his niece after all. But this exuberant display of
sentiment on Matthews’ part had Knight utterly perplexed. Matthews was one of
the strongest men in his crew, one whose common sense and fierce nerve Knight
had often relied on in difficult situations. To see such a man scampering about
the ship like a young schoolboy in search of this outspoken girl was beyond his
reasoning. The very existence of such a close bond between Matthews and Miss Gibson
was incomprehensible to Knight. That the daughter of such a powerful, wealthy
man should spend so much time with the family of a common sailor was certainly
outside of the normal societal conventions. Knight’s encounter with Catherine
that morning came back to him once more and he frowned at the remembrance. How
such a haughty young woman could be so tightly connected to a simple, honest
man as Matthews seemed beyond all comprehension.
Below decks in Catherine’s cabin,
Lieutenant Matthews sat with eyes closed and hands outstretched, eagerly
awaiting his promised present from home. Catherine laughed delightedly at the
spectacle – she loved her uncle’s great spirit and the kindness reflected in
his honest face at moments like these. “You must guess the prize first, Uncle”
she said with mock seriousness. “Hmmmmm…” Matthews mused, “Could it be one of
Mrs. Matthews’ delicious pies?” “No,” Catherine laughed, remembering fondly how
this same silly game would play out each year at Christmas in the Matthews’
family household. Gathered around the fireplace, the exchange of their simple
but heartfelt gifts was always a matter of great humor and joy. The small,
intimate rituals of her uncle and aunt on these occasions were a welcome
respite from the cold reserve always on display at her boarding school. The
love Matthews and Aunt Elizabeth held for one another was undeniable, and to be
included in such a union along with the Matthews’ children was one of
Catherine’s greatest pleasures. Theirs was the only family life Catherine had
ever truly known. Memories of her mother had all but faded over time, and as
for memories of her father…..
“You must guess again, Uncle”
Catherine implored, trying to keep her spirits even. She willed herself not to
be sad at the thought of leaving this family behind, of never returning to England. Nor would she allow her thoughts to stray to Jamaica and of what awaited her
there. “Is it a fancy new pair of shoes for dancing?” Matthews guessed
mischievously. “No!” Catherine exclaimed in delight. As she finally held forth
the promised gift to her uncle, a small doubt crept into her mind. She
desperately wanted to please her uncle, to show her affection for both him and
his family with the token she offered. Catherine bit her lip nervously as Matthews
grabbed the offered present with his large hands. He opened one eye in a joking,
tentative wink, but both eyes immediately flew open in astonishment at what
they found there. “Catherine…” the lieutenant whispered softly. In his hands
was a beautiful oil painting of the Matthews clan, executed brilliantly by
Catherine; Matthews himself sat proudly in the foreground, Mrs. Matthews stood
behind, her hand resting lovingly on his shoulder, and at their feet sat the
three sons of their union. Matthews’s eyes swept from one detail to another,
astonished at the beauty of the painting, the love so clearly reflected in each
pose. He ran his hands over the painting, marveling anew at his wife’s great
beauty, undiminished after twenty years of marriage; he was taken aback by the
great changes in the sons he had not seen for a year. Unaccustomed tears came
to the lieutenant’s eyes and his words caught in his throat.
“Well, Uncle,” Catherine said
nervously: “What do you think? Are you… are you pleased?” Lieutenant Matthews
looked at Catherine with great pride; “It is by your hand, Catherine?” he asked
quietly. “Yes, Uncle” Catherine spoke shyly. “I tried my very best…..” she
trailed off uncertainly. The lieutenant came to his feet and wrapped his niece
in an enormous embrace. Catherine returned his hug with great affection, tears
falling from her eyes at his response. “There is but one thing wrong with it,
Catherine” Matthews said as he pulled back slightly. Catherine’s brows knit
together seriously, “Oh what? What can it be uncle?” she asked worriedly. “You missed
a most important part of the Matthews family. You have forgotten to paint
yourself” he said simply. At his words Catherine’s reserve broke and her tears
fell in earnest. Matthews held her in his arms, gently rocking her as though
she was a little child again. “Oh dear girl, my own dear girl” he repeated over
and over as she wept her loneliness, frustration and fear into his comforting
breast.
On this second evening when the tap
came, Catherine was ready. She opened the door to her cabin at once and found a
grinning Tom Foster at her threshold. “Good evening, miss” he said shyly. “Good
evening Tom,” Catherine responded with warmth. “Shall you escort me to the captain’s
table?” she asked with a smile. “Yes, miss, if you please” the young boy
answered with great pride. Catherine stepped forward and once again took the
cabin boy’s arm. He led her, unselfconsciously this time, through the
passageways of the quarter deck to Captain Knight’s dining room.
When Catherine entered the room,
every eye turned to her in frank admiration. Her golden hair was carefully
arranged in a twisted knot at the base of her neck, and held in place by a blue
silk ribbon shot through with threads of gold. Her empire gown of ivory silk
was elegantly trimmed at the waist with the same ribbon, and against her throat
rested a heavy gold locket. She shone like a rare jewel in the light from the
cabin’s candles. The men at table were visibly struck by the beautiful figure
before them as they came to their feet. Catherine blushed slightly as she took
in their appraising glances. She thanked Tom for his assistance and quickly
seated herself at the table, carefully avoiding any look to the head of the
table where the captain stood. Catherine was resolute she would make a success
of tonight’s supper. After last night’s miserable attempt at this same table,
and her morning argument with Captain Knight, she was determined to pass this
evening’s gathering with decorum and civility. Catherine caught her uncle’s eye
and he winked broadly at his niece; she grinned quickly in return as she settled
her napkin in her lap.
“I am glad to have you join us once
again” the captain said in his low voice. Catherine steeled her nerves a moment
then looked to the head of the table where he sat. “I thank you for the
invitation, sir” she said quickly; “You are most generous.” Her eyes were
caught and held by his a long moment. In the candlelight his eyes seemed almost
black; two inscrutable pools of glittering light. She could feel the heat
rising in her face as he took a frank, appraising look at her. Finally, with a
slight nod, he turned his gaze away and began issuing instructions to the
porter for the evening meal. Catherine gave a small sigh of relief and settled
in to enjoy the gathering.
As the courses were unveiled,
Catherine marveled again at the quality of the food set before them. The dinner
was as fine as anything she had enjoyed at a country manor, but with one
difference: the company was by far superior here onboard the
HMS Triton
.
There was none of the old, worn out society talk that she encountered at every
‘good’ table she visited at home in England. All around her, the officers spoke
with intelligence and great wit. This was no collection of rough sailors as
some would have led her to believe. The men of Captain Knight’s crew were well-read,
thinking men capable of deep conversation, as well as of action. Each engaged
Catherine in turn with details about the ship, the duties they performed, and
how they came to sail aboard the
Triton
. Every man spoke with warmth and
enthusiasm and it was clear to Catherine that each had been carefully chosen and
trained by Captain Knight. It was obvious they all held the captain in the
highest regard and she tried to reconcile this idea with her own image of
Captain Knight.
From the other end of the table,
Captain Knight was experiencing a similar difficulty. Although he did not
engage Catherine directly in conversation, he caught every word she spoke to
her tablemates. He was surprised at the depth of the questions she asked about
the ship and the work she had viewed while escorted by her uncle earlier in the
day. She seemed to have caught every detail and was deeply interested to know
more, to understand how all the pieces fit together. Knight tried to resolve the
notion of this eager, inquiring mind with the haughty, proud indifference he
had met with earlier. He could find no explanation that suited him as he listened
to her conversations with the others.
“Miss Gibson,” a young midshipman
began, “I must compliment you on your artistic skill. Lieutenant Matthews has
been proudly showing off your painting to us all” he finished with a smile.
Matthews beamed at his niece and Catherine bent her head in embarrassment. “She
is a fine painter, is she not?” Matthews enthused. “She even managed to make an
old tar like me look a respectable gentleman!” he said with great mirth, and
the men all joined in on the laughter. “Indeed,” said the deep voice of the captain
in acknowledgement, “You are a painter of great skill, Miss Gibson.” Catherine
looked at the captain, then back to her uncle before speaking: “You have seen
the painting as well, captain?” she asked.
“Yes. And I thought it a very fine
work. You obviously have a great talent to share” he said with sincerity.
Catherine did not know how to respond to this generous comment and only nodded
her head in small thanks. After a moment’s pause she spoke aloud; “I hope that
I might be allowed to complete some paintings of the ship while I am onboard,
Captain Knight, if you are agreeable?” Captain Knight looked at her, and then
gave another of those rare smiles that so completely transformed him. “I would
be most honored if you would” he agreed. Catherine smiled in return and felt some
of her former anxiety slip away from her. She returned to her meal and the
conversation of her companions with renewed enjoyment.
At length, the evening drew to a
close, and talk at the table turned to their destination of Jamaica. The men debated on the length of time it would take to reach Kingston, the weather
to be encountered
en route
, and the changed sights they would find on
their arrival at the busy harbor. As they spoke, Catherine seemed to withdraw
into herself. Matthews watched his niece guardedly, concern writ large all over
his face. Captain Knight noted the change in both of their behavior and watched
the pair with curiosity. Matthews was as open and honest a man as Knight had
ever served with, but something was obviously being held secret between the
lieutenant and his niece. Knight felt a prick of annoyance at this mystery that
was playing out on his own ship but he would not seek explanation from either
Matthews or the girl; his sense of personal honor and his regard for Matthews
would never allow it.
As the discussion of Jamaica continued, the boatswain attempted to engage the lovely Catherine in this talk as well: “You
must be excited yourself, miss, to see the many changes in Kingston since last
you were there.” Catherine’s face burned red as she attempted a response: “You
are mistaken, sir,” she replied haltingly, “I shall note no change as this will
be my first trip to Jamaica.” Conversation around her seemed to stop completely
as each man took this in with surprise. “But I understood,” the boatswain
continued in confusion, “That is, Lieutenant Matthews said your father has
lived there some fifteen years?” Catherine wrung her hands in her lap before
replying shortly, “Yes. It is true my father has long lived in Jamaica. But I … I have been away at school. I have never visited the island during his
time there.” Her words hung uncomfortably in the room as all looked on in
astonishment. Even Captain Knight could not keep a look of immense surprise
from his face. For a family of their stature, a trip to Jamaica was not a difficult thing to accomplish. That such a journey had never been taken,
that fifteen years had passed since father and daughter had seen one another,
was a complete shock, even to men who were used to long separations from their
families. The painful silence continued until Lieutenant Matthews snapped into
action: “I fear, dear Catherine, we keep you too long at table after such a
busy day. I know you must be tired after my dragging you about the ship all
afternoon. Come, I am sure the officers will excuse you.” The men all murmured
assent and rose to their feet as they watched Catherine, her face now pale and
drawn, as she stood and took her uncle’s arm. As the two turned to leave,
Captain Knight caught her gaze. Catherine read his curious look and feared what
he might speak; but Knight was a man of honor and said only: “I thank you
again, Miss Gibson, for joining us this evening. It was a great pleasure that I
hope we may repeat?” Catherine inclined her head in gratitude and gave a small
curtsey to the captain. “Indeed, sir. I look forward to it. Good evening gentlemen”
she said politely as Matthews led her from the room.