“Is that what he told you? That it was a pirate attack?”
Alicia thought back to what Jacob had told her. “He never actually said it was an attack, only that Eric’s death was a result of being in the company of pirates.”
“There were no pirates!” Blake roared. “Eric was on a privateer’s ship at the time.”
“Then where did Father get the idea it was pirates?”
Blake glared at her. “In his eye, they were the same.” He turned away briefly, took a deep breath before facing her again. “Tell me, Alicia, did he ever explain what happened to Daniel?”
Alicia shook her head. “When his name came up, he’d close himself off, go down to the water. When I asked Anna about it, she’d get so sad. It got to be that I stopped asking. I assumed he went to the water because Daniel also died at sea, only they never recovered his body.”
“Daniel didn’t die. To this day he’s very much alive.”
Alicia gasped, tears filled her eyes. “If only Jacob had known that. He’d have been so—”
“He knew, Alicia.”
“But he couldn’t have. I saw the pain in his eyes when he’d stand on the beach. He looked so empty, so sad. If he knew Daniel was alive, he’d have gone looking for him; he’d have stopped at nothing for his son.”
Blake exploded, eyes wild.
“He had the chance! He had years to find Daniel, and instead he did nothing! I hope he went to the grave with that guilt rotting away at him.”
Alicia’s jaw went slack.
“He’s the only father I remember and he was a good man. You have no right to talk about him like that.”
“Oh, I don’t, do I? Well, you know nothing of that man you called father! And Daniel is better off without him.”
“You bastard! I watched
that man
enough times to see him wipe away tears he didn’t think I’d seen. He and my mother both would sit at night and pray for their boys. He loved both of them. Don’t you dare stand in judgment when you know nothing of how he felt.”
Out of breath, hands on her hips, she challenged Blake as she’d never done before. He didn’t seem to notice. He matched her stance and his voice wasn’t any quieter than hers.
“I know exactly how he felt! Unlike yourself, I don’t have to think I know what the man was feeling because he told me straight out just what he thought of Daniel.”
“And what was that?” she demanded, jamming a lock of hair behind her ear when it fell over her face.
“That it was Daniel’s fault Eric was dead.”
Alicia paused, blinked. “What?”
Blake turned to the window, placed a hand beside it. He stood silent and brooding for so long Alicia didn’t think he’d continue.
“Daniel had a love of the sea, and it called to him as nothing he’d ever experienced before. The sea, the endless horizon, the fresh air. It was all he wanted, to simply own a ship and command his own crew. But he was afraid to tell his father because Jacob had never hidden his dream of both his sons taking over the blacksmith shop. It took Daniel a long time to broach the subject to his father.” Blake slapped his hand against the wood. “And when he finally found the nerve to tell his father about his dream, Jacob didn’t listen. Not really. He convinced himself it was a lark, that if Daniel went to sea, he’d soon tire of the water and come home. Because of that, he asked Eric to go along with Daniel when he found work on a privateering vessel, thinking a month or so would do it.”
“Why would Jacob send Eric on a privateer’s ship if he thought them no better than pirates?”
Blake’s laugh was mirthless. “It wasn’t until after Eric died that Jacob felt that way about privateers. Until then, far as I know, he didn’t have any objections to privateers.”
“Was Daniel on the ship when Eric died?”
Blake nodded. “Daniel saw it all. It was him who took his brother’s body back to Port Royal.
“Daniel was a broken man when he carried Eric’s body home. He felt responsible for his brother’s death; it weighed like bricks on his shoulders. He couldn’t eat, sleep. It took three days to sail to Port Royal, and he spent those days at his brother’s side.”
Silence fell heavily. In her mind, it was easy to picture. Easy yet heartbreaking. What must that have been like for Daniel?
Blake turned to Alicia and his eyes reflected an anguish the likes of which she’d never seen.
“What happened next?” she asked.
“The hardest thing Daniel ever did was carry Eric into the house. Anna wept, clung to Eric’s lifeless hand. Jacob wouldn’t even look at Daniel.”
Blake turned to look out the window, but Alicia knew he wasn’t seeing the water past the glass.
“Daniel tried to explain, but Jacob didn’t want to hear it and Anna was too devastated to listen. Her weeping broke Daniel’s heart.”
“It was an accident.”
“Well, you’d never know it by Jacob’s reaction. He told Daniel he’d destroyed the family and he’d never be forgiven for that.”
“What did Anna say?”
“Honestly, I don’t think she heard the argument. Her focus was on Eric at the time. She was weeping over his body, touching his face …” Blake pinched his eyes closed. “Daniel couldn’t bear to see Anna so upset, and he went outside for air. Jacob followed. He told Daniel just what he thought of him and of what he’d done to them. He told him never to come back.”
“And Daniel simply accepted that?”
Blake opened his eyes, latched onto hers. “No. He stayed for the funeral, though not in the house. Jacob forbid it. But he went to the funeral, paid his respects. He went to see Anna one night when Jacob was asleep. Daniel and Anna had a good talk. She never blamed him, but until the day he died, Jacob continued to blame Daniel. It’s why he never went back.”
Alicia’s heart squeezed with the pain the Davidsons had seen.
“Anna missed him so much; she’d have given anything to see him again.”
Blake turned to her, and his brown eyes were wet.
“It killed Daniel to be away from her. He missed her with his whole being.”
Suddenly everything fell into place, and the missing pieces she’d hoped for were now a poison that was destroying what she’d held dear. Her stomach roiled with the truth.
“You changed your name.”
“Daniel was never me, he was who my father wanted me to be. Jacob wanted to tie me to the blacksmith shop, wanted me to be like Eric, who loved the shop as much as he did. But I didn’t, and he let me know that it was my selfishness that had lead to Eric’s death.
“So I took my middle name and my maternal grandmother’s maiden name. I wanted as little to do with Jacob as he did with me. I left and, other than his funeral, have never been back.”
“Is that why I don’t remember seeing you at Anna’s burial?”
“Jacob knew I’d come back for her. He was waiting for me on the docks. He told me I’d broken Anna’s heart and that I didn’t deserve to go to her grave. He said there was nothing left in Port Royal for me.”
“But you’re his son,” Alicia whispered.
The fury that had exploded was spent, and Blake’s shoulders fell, as did his voice.
“No, I’m not. Not anymore. Even before Jacob died, he was as dead to me as I was to him.”
After Blake ordered her out of the cabin, Alicia went to the helm. She dropped onto a crate and pressed her palms to her cheeks. Blake’s words whirled in her head with a dizzying speed. How could Blake be Daniel Davidson? She looked up, caught Vincent and Nate watching her, and knew they’d heard. A strained laugh escaped her. She dropped her hands into her lap.
“Until my father died, I thought I was Alicia Davidson. Now I’m not sure where I came from or what my name really is. I was told to find Blake Merritt only to find out that isn’t his real name either and he’s my father’s son. If your names aren’t really Nate and Vincent, I’ll ask you to tell me now so I can absorb it all at the same time.”
Nate’s lips twitched, and Vincent smiled. Alicia uttered a sigh. “It’s not funny, I know that. My father never said a word in his letter. Did you know?” she asked.
“I have some things to tend to. I need to see to it that the crew is kept busy.” Nate offered her a warm grin and squeezed her shoulder before going to see to the men.
“He’s efficient,” Alicia commented.
“No, he simply prefers to keep his nose out of everyone else’s business,” Vincent said. A frown creased his wide forehead. “It can be a most annoying habit.”
The weight of Blake’s words sat like an anchor in her stomach. “I hurt him, Vincent. I never meant to hurt him.”
The dwarf brought his attention back to her, the lines on his face smoothing out. He sat beside her, legs dangling, and patted her hand.
“I know you didn’t. As I’m sure Blake will realize when he settles down.”
“I doubt that.” She hung her head, which was suddenly too heavy for her neck. “He isn’t known for being forgiving, is he?”
“He’ll forgive you; he’ll simply need some time to work up to it.”
A piercing crash resounded from Blake’s cabin.
“I beg to differ,” Alicia muttered and jumped when something flew against the hatch.
“I need to go—”
Vincent grabbed her arm. His hand may have been small, but there was strength behind it. “Leave him.”
Alicia wrenched her arm away, ready to throw something herself. “He’s upset because of me. I want to help.”
Nate strolled onto the deck. He crossed to the hatch and opened it, then jumped aside to avoid being hit with a flying chair.
Holding up a bottle, he warned, “Hit me with anything, and I’ll drink the damn rum myself.”
The noise from the cabin stopped and Nate took a few steps down, passed the bottle into Blake’s waiting palm, and slammed the cover into place. Then Nate strolled back, resumed the helm. His eyes held no judgment, but his tone left no room for argument.
“I don’t think it wise to go down anytime soon.”
It was the most time she’d spent on deck since coming aboard. However, she hadn’t felt right about staying at the helm and distracting Nate and Vincent from their duties, so she’d moved to the front of the ship. Though the crew left her alone, she felt their stares like sticky fingers on her neck as they went about their tasks. Even Lewis, who was charged with scrubbing the deck, kept to himself.
She’d had hours to fret about Blake. Daylight was waning and now a thin veil of cloud spread across the horizon, catching the russet and golden tones of the sunset. A fiery trail of sunlight blazed on the sapphire water. There was enough wind to toss Alicia’s hair against her cheeks, but not enough to soothe her mind.
She’d dwelled a good part of the afternoon on the fact that she’d upset Blake, and while she was sorry for that, she was now focused on another point. He’d lied to her. Perhaps not to her face, but he had neglected to mention his being Jacob’s son and he’d had more than enough opportunity to do so. If he had told her from the beginning, they both would have been spared the ugly argument that had taken place earlier.
And then there was her father. Could he not have written, “If you need help, seek out my son”? Did that mean Blake was right, and Jacob hadn’t considered him a son any longer?
“It doesn’t make sense,” she muttered into the breeze. Her father had, until the day he died, pined for both his sons. She hadn’t lied to Blake about that; she’d witnessed the grief play across Jacob’s face. There was no doubt both boys had been deeply loved. And since the son who claimed to hate his father had come to the man’s funeral, Alicia knew that there was more to Blake’s feelings toward Jacob as well.
Alicia slapped her hand against the side of the ship, her frustration simmering like a banked fire. She couldn’t remember a time she’d ever felt so ineffective. If only she were back at the blacksmith shop, she could hammer and pound on steel, work out her distress until her muscles ached and her arms were too heavy to hold a hammer.
Here she was but a guest, and an unwelcome one at that. Alicia realized, with a tug of her heart, that was part of her turmoil.
She’d never shown a man any interest before because she’d never been interested. Blake was different. He was tall and strong, and from the little she’d been able to see, his crew was well treated and he had their respect. He was helping her despite the fact he didn’t want to. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted him to like her.
She’d tried to convince herself over the years that it didn’t matter if men didn’t look at her, that she was doing what she loved and that was more than adequate. But the hurt of their indifference would surface sometimes. Why couldn’t they look past her dirty hands to the woman underneath? Did it matter so very much that she was scarred? That she didn’t wear dresses every day and fuss with her appearance? Was nobody ever going to bother to get to know who she really was?
She’d begun to hope Blake would. She raised a finger, traced the uneven tissue of her scar. He’d never seemed bothered by it; she’d never caught him staring at it the way some people in Port Royal did. And yet, in bed, he hadn’t wanted her to get any closer. Did he find her revolting? Surely not, surely she hadn’t mistaken the desire she’d seen in his eyes.
“And what would I know of a man’s desire?” she muttered.
The scrape of brush against wood suddenly stopped. She pinched her mouth closed, cursing herself for speaking aloud when she knew Lewis was never very far away. She glanced back and her stomach clenched when her eyes met Lewis’s. He quickly resumed his deck washing but the damage was done. A cold, slimy feeling had settled over Alicia and she walked away, very much aware that his eyes never left her as she did.
She ate the evening meal in friendly silence with Nate. Vincent was sleeping in order to take the night watch later. From the back of the ship, she marveled when the sky darkened, turning into a black canvas filled with hundreds of sparkling white jewels. Not so very far away, she thought, her sister was under the same sky.
Sam. Fanny had said she would be thrilled to see her, but Alicia couldn’t help thinking that Sam would also be sad her sister didn’t remember their life together. For Alicia it was different. She was jubilant to have family and desperately wished she could remember them, but as she didn’t, her heart couldn’t be as easily bruised.