Forsaken Dreams (17 page)

Gripping the brim, she proceeded across the deck and spotted Magnolia battling her parasol. Eliza had managed to find another bottle of brandy in the sick bay to lock the woman’s tongue, but with the Union frigate absconding with most of their rum, she didn’t know how much longer she could appease the girl. Surely Magnolia wasn’t cruel enough to ruin Eliza’s life when there was no alcohol to be found on board?

A gust of wind tore the parasol from Magnolia’s hands, sending it bouncing in the air on its way out to sea. Mable, her slave, dropped the load of books she carried and caught the parasol just in time, handing it to her disgruntled owner, who snagged it from her with a scowl. Moses darted toward them, picking up the books for Mable and handing them to her. Her cheeks reddened like raspberries on chocolate as she nodded her thanks.

Eliza couldn’t help but smile at the budding romance. The thought of which drew her gaze to Blake at his usual spot on the quarterdeck. He’d filled the role of first mate as if he’d been born on a ship. How he’d learned all the names and positions of the sails and when they should be raised or lowered, furled or unfurled, she had no idea, but the crew leaped to task whenever he shouted an order. Wind swept over him as he stood conferring with the captain, flapping his white shirt. His dark eyebrows knit together at something the captain was saying, but then he saw her, and his forehead relaxed into soft lines.

Chastising herself for being caught staring at him—yet again—Eliza positioned herself at the starboard railing and gazed out over the blue expanse of sky and sea. She’d never realized how many shades of blue there were: azure, cobalt, indigo, navy, turquoise, cerulean, teal, beryl. And each so beautiful and unique, appearing at the whim of sun, cloud, and wind. As well as the depth of the sea, Captain Barclay had told her.

Closing her eyes, she drew in a breath of briny air tainted with the odor of fish. She fingered the locket hanging around her neck. Thoughts of her mother were interrupted by the clipped gait of the colonel’s boots coming her way. Her heart leaped.

“Another fine day, is it not, Mrs. Crawford?”

“It is indeed, Colonel. The ocean grows more magnificent each day.”

“I hear it’s even more beautiful off the coast of Brazil.” The brig flopped over a wave, showering them with salty spray and causing them both to laugh.

Eliza brushed the moisture from her skirts as the colonel’s expression sobered. “May I join you, or do you prefer to be alone?” he asked.

If ever there had been a time for her to deny his request, it had been two weeks ago when he’d first asked the same question. But too much time had passed, too many strolls around the deck, too many conversations of happier times in the South before the war, and now Eliza could not imagine denying herself the only thing she looked forward to on the journey. Even though she knew it was unfair to them both. Oh what a weak woman she was! Always led by feelings and not by reason. She should make an excuse that she needed to think, to pray—to do the right thing for once in her life! Instead, she faced him. “I would love the company, but surely you have duties to attend?”

“Ah, you won’t get rid of me that easily, Mrs. Crawford. Besides, with a clear sky and a steady wind, there’s not much to be done at the moment.”

That moment turned into several minutes as the colonel shared with her the reason he started this venture to Brazil. Eliza found herself mesmerized by his words; the inflection of his voice when he spoke; his confident, resonant tone; how the sunlight reflected the ocean’s blue in his gray eyes; and the way the wind batted the tips of his coal-colored hair.

“Forgive me, I’ve gone on and on about my hopes for Brazil,” he said.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting a simple life, Colonel. Not after what you’ve endured. What we’ve all endured.” Eliza sighed and held down her bonnet against a burst of wind. “To work hard, reap the fruit of your labors, raise children, and live in peace. Peace from others lording it over you, peace from oppression and hatred.” Yes, Eliza could well understand that. She longed for that kind of life, herself, as well.

“So, you
were
listening to me.” He smiled.

“Always, Colonel.”

His eyes sparkled pleasure at her response as he leaned on the railing and cocked his head. “Now, what of your dreams, Mrs. Crawford? I would love to hear them.”

But she couldn’t tell him that her only real dream was to escape the scorn, the hatred toward her in the South. The sun spread sparkling ribbons over waves, and she lowered the brim of her hat against its brightness. “Like you, I simply wish to put my past behind me and start over.”

“But you still have family in the States. Why have they not come with you?”

Eliza bit her lip. “We have become estranged, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.” Understanding flashed across his eyes. “No doubt your father did not wish you to become a war nurse.”

Though that was not the reason for the estrangement, it was true enough to allow Eliza to nod in agreement.

The brig rose over a swell, and he touched her elbow to keep her steady. “I’m sure he had your best interests at heart.”

She wouldn’t tell him that it was her father’s own interests, his own reputation, that led his heart. A fact that still weighed heavily on Eliza. Had he ever really loved her? Or was all his meddling, his smothering, his guiding merely a way for him to control her, mold her into the perfect daughter of a prominent solicitor?

Blake hated that he’d somehow caused the sorrow burning in Eliza’s golden eyes. Gold like the sun with flecks of silver that sparkled when she laughed. He must bring back her smile. Scanning the deck, he spotted Mr. Dodd pointing to his treasure map and spouting off to a group of passengers. “Well at least you’ve not got your heart set on a chest of gold like Mr. Dodd.”

Clutching the brim of her hat, whereupon ribbons and feathers hopelessly flailed about, she glanced toward the ex-lawman and rewarded Blake with a grin. “Indeed. I am not one for fanciful tales. Can you believe it? Treasure maps and pirates!” She chuckled.

Blake scratched his chin. “And apparently they buried their chest of gold right outside of Rio de Janeiro.”

“I hope he didn’t pay overmuch for such a forgery.” She gave him a sly look. “Though it is rather amusing.”

“Then, I take it, you don’t believe him?” Blake’s attempt at lightness fell flat when, still staring at Dodd, the lady’s face tightened. “I find him uncomfortable to be around. But if he does find gold, the better for him. Perhaps then he will keep his eyes off the ladies.”

“Yes indeed.” The man’s obsession with women had not gone unnoticed by Blake. “Let me know if he bothers you, and I will handle it.”

She smiled at him shyly and lowered her gaze. Such innocence from a married lady. He enjoyed every moment spent in her company. More than any of the ladies he had courted before the war. When he had thought himself too wounded, too damaged, for any possibility of finding a wife, Eliza Crawford had rekindled hope within him for the first time in years. If only she could overlook his weakness.

Yet the look in her eyes at the moment exuded more respect than pity. And he felt her admiration straight down to his boots. Wind gusted over them. Loose strands of her hair danced over her shoulders in a wildness that was so much like the lady herself. Brave, free, uninhibited. He’d never met anyone like her.

A shout drew his gaze to Miss Magnolia, who was scolding her slave—for some minor infraction, no doubt. After her tirade, she settled onto one of the heavy crates the captain had brought on deck for the passengers. The young lady’s gaze drifted above and remained there so long, Blake followed it to find Hayden, stripped to his trousers, his chest gleaming with sweat, working on one of the halyards.

“Odd that she stares at a man she claims to despise,” Eliza offered with a chuckle.

Blake cocked a brow at her, noting her eyes were fastened on the man as well. A spike of jealousy caused his annoyance to rise. “Our stowaway is a handsome figure, is he not?”

A coy grin toyed on her lips. “He is no match for you, Colonel.” She immediately swept her gaze to sea. “Forgive me. That was far too bold. I fear my thoughts have escaped my mouth again!”

Another endearing quality of hers. “I’m afraid I cannot forgive you, madam.” For it meant that, despite his limp, despite his mad episodes, she found him agreeable. And that alone gave him the impetus to ask her to receive his courtship. He wanted to know her better. Wanted to have an understanding between them that excluded all others. She was, after all, only one of four unmarried women aboard, and he saw the way the other men looked at her.

Yet, was it fair of him to pursue her when he had the responsibility of the entire colony on his shoulders? Yes, he’d be busy, especially after arriving at Brazil, but she’d proven herself more than capable of handling any situation. And with her by his side, with her wisdom, skill, bravery, and kind heart, Blake knew he could tackle anything.

After glancing around to ensure they weren’t going to be interrupted, he took her hand in his, heart thundering in his chest more than it had on any battlefield. “Mrs. Crawford, I know this is sudden. I know you may think me completely mad, but I would be so honored”—he hesitated, shifting his stance—“you would make me so happy”—he cleared his throat—“if you would allow me to court you.”

Instead of the expected smile, the joyful glimmer in her eyes, horror glazed over them then eased onto her face, tightening her features and parting her mouth. Tugging her hand from his, she backed away as if he’d just asked her to climb to the top yard.

C
HAPTER
12

S
tripped to her petticoats, Eliza ran a damp cloth over her face and arms in an attempt to rid herself of the salty film that seemed permanently glued to her skin. Though she tried, she could not get the colonel’s request to court her out of her mind, out of her thoughts. Or out of her heart. Thank God one of the sailors had interrupted them with a complaint of a rash, which was soon followed by a string of infirmities from others that had kept her in the sick bay the rest of the day. Safe from having to answer the question to which her heart screamed,
Yes!
but to which her mind screamed,
No!

Yet … was a courtship possible? Could one tiny mistake several years in the past ruin her chances for happiness? She had thought so. “Oh Lord, I don’t know what to do,” she said out loud, not really expecting an answer. Not really wanting to know the answer if it meant the colonel was not a part of her future. Which was probably why she wouldn’t hear one. She dipped the rag back into the basin of water. The door opened, and she swerved about, covering herself.

“Oh, forgive me, Eliza.” Angeline entered the tiny cabin and quickly closed the door. “It’s terribly hard to find privacy aboard this ship.”

But Eliza had lost all thoughts of modesty when her eyes latched onto the fluffy bundle in Angeline’s arms. “Oh my.” She stepped toward Angeline and ran her fingers over the black fur. The cat gazed up at her with amber-colored eyes. “Where did you find it?”

Angeline eased into the single chair and set the feline on her lap. “Below in the hold. I went to get some flour for Cook, and I found this wee one pouncing on a rat. A rather large rat, I might add.” She chuckled, and Eliza thought how comely she was when she smiled. Which the lady didn’t do very often.

“Most women would have swooned at the sight of a rat. You impress me.” Eliza knelt to caress the cat, who began purring under so much attention.

“I’ve been exposed to much worse.” Angeline’s tone was far too nonchalant for such a statement.

Eliza squeezed her hand. “We’ve all been exposed to things these past few years that no lady should have to endure.” Though Eliza had a feeling Angeline wasn’t talking about the war at all. There was something in her demeanor, a sorrow, a worldly knowledge that had stolen the innocence from her eyes. Eyes that now bore shadows beneath them.

“I notice you don’t sleep well,” Eliza said, bringing the lady’s surprised gaze to hers.

“Forgive me for waking you. I try to be quiet.”

“I’m a light sleeper.” Eliza sat on the trunk beside Angeline. “But that isn’t why I mentioned it. Perhaps I can find some medicine to help you rest?”

“Nothing helps. I’ve been this way since … well, since the war.”

Eliza nodded her understanding. The dreadful war had changed a lot of people—for the worse. “It must have been horrible to lose your father. Who took care of you?”

“My uncle.” The woman seemed to choke on the word. “Then I was on my own.”

Eliza wondered what happened but kept silent.

“I did many things I’m not proud of,” Angeline added numbly, as if to no one in particular.

“You are not the only one.” Eliza sighed.

Angeline’s brow wrinkled, and she looked at Eliza, first with curiosity and then with shame. Finally, she gazed down and stroked the cat.

“What will you call her?” Eliza attempted to lighten the mood.

“It’s a he, I believe. And he’s quite skinny. I fear he hasn’t been eating well.” The cat leaped from her lap and slinked around the cabin. “I’m going to call him Stowy since he’s our stowaway cat.”