Miss Whittier Makes a List (9 page)

She blinked her eyes in surprise as he closed the door to the cabin.
“
What an odd man,
”
she said out loud. That was more words than he had said to her before. She was still marveling at his loquaciousness when his orderly entered with the eternal basin of gruel and coffee.

She wrinkled her nose at the coffee.
“
I do not know how anyone manages to drink this,
”
she said as the little man placed the tray on her lap.
“
Does thee boil it for hours?
”

He stared at her in surprise.
“
Of course, miss. Is there any other way?
”

She sighed and took a sip. The orderly shook his head and left the cabin. Before she gave up on the coffee, there was another knock. It was the ship
’
s surgeon, with white trousers and a black-and-white checked shirt draped over his
arm.

“
Daniel informs me it is moving day,
”
he said after a perfunctory tug on her nightshirt and a professional scrutiny of her shoulders.
“
The cabin boy died of the bloody flux in the
Caribbean
, so we have his clothes for you.
”

Her eyes opened wide.
“
Thee does not think they are contaminated?
”

He chuckled.
“
No! You may find the smallclothes a bit perplexing, but then, not many slop chests have clothes for the female fo
rm
on His Majesty
’
s warships.
”

She blushed and accepted the garments. The surgeon smiled and returned to the door.

“
When you
’
re dressed,
come into the companionway, and I
’
ll escort you to your new quarters,
”
he said.

Hannah climbed out of the berth and tugged on the smallclothes, refusing to be embarrassed by them. The shirt, heavy cotton worn soft from many washings, was a loose fit, which pleased her
enormously
. As she buttoned the shirt, she was grateful for once for her own
slim form
. Wearing that loose shirt, there would be nothing remotely enticing about her figure. As small as they were,
the trousers were a little long,
but fi
tt
ed her nicely across the hips. She pulled them up, tied the drawstring at the waist, and tucked the shi
rt
into the pants. It was
a simple matter to roll up the tr
ouser legs.

She stood barefoot on the deck, enjoying the feel of wood under her bare feet, and relishing the relief of no stockings.
A person could be almost comfort
able in this rigout, she thought. A glance in the small shaving
mirror
attached to the bulkhead only confirmed Captain Spark
’
s pithy observation about her skin, but revealed nothing about her clothes. Somehow they would have to do.

As she left the cabin, the sentry outside the door clicked his heels together sma
rtly, presented arm
s, and then relaxed again. Eyes wide, she admired his red coat, which was stretched across his chest without a wrinkle, and then
turned away
in confusion when he winked at her.

“
Oh, dear,
”
she
murmured
under her breath, and looked up to see the s
urgeon leaning against a cannon,
watching her obvious
embarrassment
.

They stood in the waist of the ship, with rows of guns made secure with a system of ropes and pulleys. The gunpo
rt
s were closed, but it was not dark, because the gun deck was open to the main deck above, like a skylight cut into a roof.

“
This is a frigate,
”
the surgeon explained,
“
with forty guns, eighteen to a side, and two
carronades
on the main deck and two bow chasers. We are not a ship of the line, but a commerce raider.
”

He led her down a companionway aft from the silent guns, and opened a door just beyond the last gun. She peered inside, taking in the gun there, too, the ha
mmock slung above it, the gunport
secured. She looked back at the surgeon for explanation.

“
When we clear the decks for action, the gun crews knock down these bulkheads, and your cabin
bec
omes another part of the gun deck. So does the captain
’
s great cabin, and most of the other quarters.
”
He patted the gun under the hammock.
“
Miss Whittier, you are now residing on a killing machine. The
Dissuade
is a shark in interna
tiona
l
waters.
”

Hannah shuddered and eyed the hammock dubiously.
“
Suppose I should fall out of this thing?
”

“
Then you have the cannon underneath to break your fall,
”
the surgeon replied, smiling at her wary expression.
“
Come, come, Miss Whittier! Have a little confidence in yourself!
”

“
Very well, sir,
”
she said.

She looked around the tiny cabin and saw only a small sea chest. The surgeon opened it.
“
There are some more clothes in here, and whatever els
e that little beggar owned. Thi
s was not his cabin, of course. He slept on the floor in the galley. You have merely dispossessed two midshipmen.
”

“
I am sorry for that,
”
she said, noticing the ring bolts where the second hammock must have been secured and wondering how on
earth
there w
as room for two in a space for l
ess than one. She looked in the sea chest, noting the extra
shirt
and canvas trousers, folding knife, and wooden flute. It was so little by which to remember a life.
“
How old was he?
”
she asked as the surgeon squeezed past the cannon and stood in the doorway again.

“
He was ten,
”
Lease said. His face was devoid of emotion, as though he steeled himself against a greater pain.

“
So young,
”
she
murmured
as she touched the flute and then closed the chest gently, wondering what was camouflaged by the surgeon
’
s toneless voice.

He nodded.
“
That
’
s the way of it
.
Captain Spark went to sea at ten. He has been more than twenty years in the navy, and all of them during the wartime.
”

“
Thee cannot be serious,
”
she said, start
led.
“
What kind of life is that?
”

The surgeon merely managed a small bow in the narrow opening of the door.
“
Who said it was a life? We live to serve the guns
,
and that is war, my dear.
”
He looked beyond her
to
the great hulk of the gun.
“
Perhaps we would all fare worse on land. Good day, my
dear
. Go on deck, if you wish.
”

She nodded and he closed the door.
Hannah
sat down on the little chest and looked around her. She would only be able to stand upright because she was short. The gun was secured to the deck by
a series of pulleys and tackle,
necessitating that she watch her step to avoid stubbing her toes.

Hannah eyed the hammock
for another minute, then rose
. She stared at the gun, then climbed onto it and then into the hammock. Holding her breath, she lay back carefully and expected to be dumped out by the ship
’
s movements.

Nothing of the so
rt
happened. The hammock swayed gently from side to side and enfolded her in its generous cloth embrace. She relaxed and closed her eyes, perfectly at peace with herself as she listened to the shipboard sounds ar
ound her, the creak of the wood,
the rhythmical scrape as the men holystoned the deck above. Every now and then, someone laughed, and voices murmured. Above this she heard the steady tread of someone on the quarterdeck, and then the humming of the wind in
the riggings. It was a pleasant,
low-pitched sound that seemed to
harmonize
with the slap of the water as the
Dissuade
cut through the sea.

When Hannah woke, she was still in the enveloping grasp of the hammock, swaying with the rhythm of the frigate cutting through the water. There was only the faint light of afternoon coming through the tiny porthole to indicate the passage of time. It was well that people kept watches aboard a ship, she thought as she lay there, or we would lose all sense of time at sea.

She lay there a moment longer as an
enormous
feeling of well-being washed over her. Her shoulders and knees still pained her, but she was alive and whole, and that was more than enough. I really should thank the captain for his kindness to me, she thought.

The idea took hold as she swung one bare foot idly outside the hammock. I should just march boldly on deck and express my appreciation, she thought, and then climb
ed carefully out of the hammock,
onto the gun, and to the deck. Someone
—
it must have been the ship
’
s surgeon
—
had placed another jar of ointment on top of the sea chest, and a hairbrush. She smiled at such a simple pleasure and untwined her braid. Humming to herself, she brushed her hair gingerly at first, and then more forcefully, when she discovered that her sunburned scalp was on a rapid mend. She replaited her hair, pleased with its chestnut color and thickness and imagining that her exposure to the relentless sun had given it those lighter hues that twinkled through it in the last light of the afternoon.