Miss Whittier Makes a List (17 page)

Spoken like that, it sounded so bald. She stared into the
Madeira
. Perhaps it is good to lay one
’
s cards on the t
able, she thought. It would
b
e
hard to do otherwise with
present company.

“
Is that wha
t
a woman wan
ts
?
”
Spark asked, leaning forward with both elbows on the table now, his eyes intense.
“
Sufficient income and a mal
e
—
any male
—
as long as he breathes?
”

She thought of her list again, weighed the probability of ever seeing this man again once they reached
Portsmouth
, and sailed ahead fearlessly.
“
Do you know, Captain, I once assembled a list of the qualities I wanted in a husband?
”
She blushed when he chuckled.
“
Silly, wasn
’
t I?
”

“
That would depend on what the list contained. You don
’
t
strike
me as an empty-headed chit.
Irritating
, I ow
n
, but not slow of wi
t
, Lady Amber.
”

As she looked into his disconcerting eyes, Hannah wished he would not call her th
at.
“
One
thing was that he love me enough to place my welfare before his own.
”

“
Did I say something terrible?
”
she asked, her eyes wide with distress.
“
Oh. I meant no offense. I would not for the world hurt him.
”

The captain shook his head.
“
I think that what you wish is what everyone, man or woman, wants. Few have the temerity to list it
.
My congratulations.
”

“
But
 
... why did he leave like that
?”
she asked, bewildered.

The captain sighed and filled her glass again, this time to the top. He pushed aside his own wineglass and pulled forward a tumbler, which soon was brimming with
Madeira
.
“
He
’
ll
have to te
ll
you himself, Lady Amber. I don
’
t uncloak others
’
intimacies. God knows, I can
’
t understand my own
.”

It was a quixotic comment,
and she knew better than to fo
ll
ow up on it. Hannah sipped her
Madeira
, the pleasure gone out of the d
rink. The captain downed his t
umbler of
Madeira
and tipped the bottle toward his glass again. He looked
at her,
his eyes faint with amusement.

“
You probably have something on your list about men who
drink
to
o
much.
”

“
Well, no, actually
,
”
she said,
“
but I could certainly add a rider.
”

He did not pour the wine, but set the bottle upright and pushed it away, clearing a space on the table in front of them.
“
I really had another reason for asking you here, beyond
table talk and cornering you with my limp wit
.
”

She watched him, her eyes wary.

“
And don
’
t look like that!
”
he protested, throwing up both hands.
“
I h
ave no designs on your person! What I need is some help.
”

“
Ask away then,
”
she replied, trying and failing to keep the tremulous relief from her voice.

He noticed it anyway, and touched her hand.
“
Lady Amber, you needn
’
t worry about preserving your virtue on this ship, not while I command. I know this i
s a difficult situation for you,
but we will not
make
it worse. Please believe me.
”

“
I do now,
”
she replied softly.

“
It is this, then. I am shorth
anded since my last encounter with the French. I would like to use my midshipmen for other purposes, but I must maintain a watch in the lookout. Can you do that for us
?”

She considered his request.

“
I didn
’
t think of it until this morning
’
s littl
e diversion in the rigging. If you could take one watch a day,
p
erhaps even two, that would help me.
”

Hannah nodded
.
“
I would be glad to.
”
She hesitated then.
“
There is one condition,
sir.
”

“
Fire away.
”

“
I will not call down to tell you I have spotted American vessels,
”
she said.
“
But I can
look for the French.
”

He took her hand again to shake it.
“
Very well, Lady Amber, very well. Your terms are not onerous, and I do respect your Federalist tendencies. Tomorrow then, the forenoon watc
h? I know you will miss the oakum,
but after all,
England
is at war. You may use my glass.
”

“
I shall do it
,
sir.
”

She slept well that night, full of plum duff and too much poached Madeira, eaten off Wedgwood and drunk from Waterford crystal. The
hammock
rocked her to sleep, and she succumbed to a pleasant dream that may have included a curly-headed man, but which, upon awakening, she could not quite recall.

Hannah put her hands behind her head and wriggled more comfortably in the captain
’
s nightshirt. I should be practically bleeding with homesickness, and yet I am not. She considered the matter, staring at the deck overhead. My life has been so circumscribed, she thought. Everything I have done, has been at the instigation of others. But
now
...
I do not know what will happen.

The knowledge did not frighten her, and she wondered why, but only for a moment. It is that I trust Captain Sir Daniel Spark, she thought. He is a hard man in a hard service
,
but he is fair. He runs an orderly ship. She turned onto her side, and stared down at the cannon. I wonder if he can fight? She swallowed and felt the hair on her neck raise. More to the point, can I?

“
Well, H
ann
ah Whittier, thee can climb a rigging,
”
she told herself as she carefully stepped onto the gun and then the deck below.
“
Such knowledge can only be expanded.
”

She dressed quickly and opened the door. The Marine clicked his heels and stood at attention, then held out a sma
ll
parcel for her.
“
From Trist, ma
’
am,
”
he said.

She took the package and went back into her cabin. She read the note:
“
For a change from the vanilla extract, Lady Amber. Yrs, Spark,
”
and opened the package. Chortling with pleasure, she took out a bottle of extract of almond. She sniffed its sharp scent and
dabbed
a bit on her neck.

Cookie had th
e green coffee beans ready for h
er to roast, and she made short work of her morning
ritual
, humming to herself. Cookie sniffed the air suspiciously, then looked into his pantry
, when he thought her att
ention was occupied elsewhere. Hannah smiled to herself as he located his own almond extract, and could make no complaint, or demand an extra peeling of potatoes.

The air was brisk with the feeling of a more northerly latitude as she came on deck with the captain
’
s coffee. He
stood
as usual on the
quarterdeck
, his glass
train
ed on the distant hor
izon. He wore the heavy woolen b
oat cloak that swept to his ankles
,
pulled back to reveal his impeccable whites. He turned around at her approach and nodded a greeting.

She set the mug on the deck by the gangway as usual, and as usual, he crossed to the rail and squa
tt
ed gracefully beside her as she sat on the rung of the ladder. She watched as he took a sip and pronounced it successful.

“
You could get yourself a cup, too,
”
he offered.
“
This really is excellent brew, Lady Amber.
”

She made a face.
“
I do not c
are for it, sir. It makes me jitt
ery and keeps me awake. And Mama claims I am not fit to live with when I am cross.
”

“
I would not doubt your mother for a moment,
”
he said after a
good
swallow. He sniffed the air around her appreciatively.
“
I think I like the almond even
better
.
”

She grinned up at him.
“
Except that I smell like dessert.
”

“
Exactly so
,
”
he replied.
“
Do you know what I like to do first when I come off a long cruise?
”

She shook her head, secretly pleased at his sudden talkativeness.

“
I drink about a quart of water that comes fresh from a well, and then I have my housekeeper make me an almond cake with gooey icing, which I eat all by myself.
”

She clapped her hands in delight.
“
You do not share?
”

“
I might, with the right person,
”
he said, then drained the rest of the coffee and handed the mug back to her. He nodded, and pointed to the aft hatch.
“
And there your oakum awaits. Lively now, Miss Whittier.
”

He turned back to stare at the ocean again
,
the interview over. A smile on her face, Hannah took the mug below deck and then returned to her task of picking oakum. She shivered in the early morning breeze and willed the sun to w
ar
m the deck soon. Sailors holystoned the deck around her, rubbing the already spotless planking with sandstone chunks the size of prayerbooks and then sluicing it
down
with seawater.

“
Hannah, think what an oakum expert thee is becoming!
”

She looked up in surprise at the sailor closest to her on the deck.
“
Adam!
”
she exclaimed.
“
Oh, sit and
talk!
”

He shook his head, his eyes on the bosun
’
s mate.
“
I daren
’
t. Are they treating thee well?
”
he asked as
he
continued by the hatch on his kn
ees, scraping the deck.

“
Oh, yes. And I will
b
e sitting in the lookout soon, keeping watch for the French.
”

He chuckled.
“
Who
’
d have thought it? Not I, surely. Well, I do not believe thee was ever partial to sewing samplers, was thee
?”

“
Oh, thy sisters have tattled,
”
she said and impulsively reached down to ruffle his hair.

“
Belay that! Ship
’
s discipline!
”
called Mr. Futtrell in ringing tones from his watch on the lee side of the quarterdeck.

To her embarrassment, Captain Spark looked down at them and frowned.

“
He
’
s my friend,
”
she protested.

“
And he is my crew,
”
the captain reminded her, biting off his words.
“
Mind your manners, Miss Whittier! You may tousle his golden mane all you choose, once you
’
re back in the
United States
.
”

The other sailors on their knees laughed and Adam blushed a rosy pin
k
.
“
Oh, Hannah, thee is a rascal,
”
he mut
t
ered, and continued along the deck.

Hannah cast a speaking look at the cap
tain, which was entirely wasted,
because he had already turned his attention back to the sea again.
“
Golden mane, indeed,
”
she muttered t
o herself.
“
This is Adam Winslow, whom I grew up with.
”
She nourished her feelings of vast ill-usage until the sun rose higher and warned the hatch she sat on. Then she abandoned herself to the pleasure of another day
’
s sailing, wishing she could stretch like a cat and curl up for a nap.

At four bells, the midshipman in the lookout scampered back down to the deck and reported to Captain Spark on the quarterdeck. Hannah sat where she was, then tucked the rest of the oakum in the burlap bag at her feet as Spark took off his boat cloak at last and came down the gangway toward her.

“
Well, Lady Amber, it is time for you to tempt the fates again. Mr. Futtrell? Will you fetch my straw hat from the great cabin, and my glass, and bring that copy of
Ships of Nations
?”

“
Aye, sir,
”
the lieutenant replied and hurried below.

He stood beside her on the main deck
,
and she pa
tt
ed the hatch.

“
You could sit down, sir,
”
she invited.

He looked at her in surprise, his eyebrows high arched.
“
Never,
Miss Whittier. A captain does not sit on his deck
,
especially on a hatch.
”

“
Don
’
t you ever get tired?
”
she asked.

“
I would never admit to it. Ah thank you, Mr.
Futtrell
. Sir, please take my place on the weather side until I regain the deck again.
”

He clapped the hat on his head and picked up the telescope, which he hooked onto his belt. He grasped the
book
in one hand and
nod
ded to Hannah.
“
After you, Lady A.
”

She climbed the rigging, mindful that the captain was right behind and probably observing her at uncomfortably cl
ose quarters. The thought made h
er blush. She paused where the yardarm crossed the mast, feeling the old, sick fear of yesterday returning.