The Scarlet Kimono (Choc Lit) (7 page)

There were several other problems to overcome though. For one thing, she shared a bed with Kate, who was a light sleeper, and for another, what if she fell asleep herself and didn’t wake up until morning when the ship had already left? The thought terrified Hannah, but as she lay in bed listening to the sounds of the night she realised she was far too agitated to fall asleep.

‘Oh, move over, do! You take up so much space,’ Kate grumbled and jabbed a sharp elbow into Hannah’s side. Hannah was about to retaliate as usual, but stopped herself just in time. The sooner Kate went to sleep, the better.

‘Very well.’ She scooted over to the far side of the bed and prayed that Kate was tired out from all the wedding preparations. Hannah’s heart was thumping so loudly she felt sure her sister would hear her, but Kate turned over and soon began to snore softly, leaving Hannah a prey to her emotions.

She pretended to be asleep herself, until she was sure her sister wouldn’t wake up. Then she waited a little while longer. Finally, Hannah was about to ease out from under the covers when, to her surprise, Kate stopped snoring and began to do just that. Hannah froze and tried to make her breathing sound deep and even. One limb at a time, Kate crawled slowly out of bed and tip-toed across the room. In the moonlight, Hannah saw her sister grab her shawl and some shoes before disappearing, and then all was quiet.

She became aware that she had been holding her breath and let it out with a whoosh before sitting up. She could hardly believe her luck and hoped Kate wouldn’t be back any time soon. Just in case, however, she grabbed a spare blanket and arranged it under the covers to look like a human shape. With any luck it would fool Kate at least until morning. Even then, she probably wouldn’t notice a thing since she barely spared Hannah a glance.

I bet she’s gone to dally with Captain Rydon
, Hannah thought and a stab of misery tore through her.
Well, let her. Soon she’ll be married to Henry Forrester and I hope he sees through her wiles right quickly
, her mind added savagely. Somehow, the thought of an unforgiving Henry cheered her up, although she still felt sorry for him. She hoped he knew what he was doing.

She retrieved her bundle from the clothes chest and left the room. Several of the floorboards on the landing creaked, but Hannah knew from experience which ones to avoid. She managed to make her way downstairs in silence. She wondered which way Kate had gone and prayed that her sister had chosen the garden route. A sudden burst of barking confirmed this, and Hannah smiled to herself when the noise stopped abruptly. It would seem Kate had also been stealing bribes.

It took only a moment to climb out through one of the kitchen windows, which Kate had left conveniently open. Hannah sped along in the shelter of the wall over to the nearest foliage. The large, shaggy dog was lying in the middle of the lawn, contentedly gnawing on Kate’s offering. He barely lifted his head to look in her direction, but Hannah threw him her own treat for good measure. Then she heard whispered voices nearby and stilled.

‘Rafael, I shouldn’t be here. Must you really leave?’

‘Kate, my lovely Kate, you know I have to. And you can’t be so cruel as to send me on my way without something to remember you by. Sweetheart, I have thought of nothing but you for weeks. Your eyes, your smile … I can’t endure another minute without …’

‘No, really I shouldn’t … oh! Rafael …’

The whispering turned into small whimpering noises and grunts and Hannah clamped her teeth together hard and turned away. She didn’t care what favours Kate chose to bestow on the captain. Soon her sister would be married, whereas Hannah needed to make haste.

Quickly, she changed into Edward’s clothes. The shirt was slightly too large, but topped by a waistcoat it hid the few curves she possessed. The breeches were also a bit on the generous side, but were easily secured by a belt. The only thing that remained to be done was to cut her waist-long hair up to shoulder length and plait it. She had brought a pair of shears for this purpose and stuffed the leftover tresses into a hole in a nearby tree trunk. Then, to be on the safe side, Hannah rammed a hat down onto her head and smeared some dirt on her cheeks, although she didn’t think anyone would look twice at her in this outfit.

She tip-toed over to the gate that led out into the little alleyway and pushed back the bolts. Fortunately, it opened a crack without the hinges squeaking too much. Hannah squeezed through and pulled it shut behind her. She couldn’t do anything about the bolts, but since the house was locked she didn’t think it mattered. With the sack in one hand, she began to run in the direction of the harbour.

She only looked back once.

Chapter Eight

Northern Japan, August 1611

Taro sat cross-legged on the dais, outwardly calm and infinitely patient. Inside, however, it was a different matter.

He should have been concentrating on what his vassals were saying. Each one was brought forward in turn with this petition or that complaint, as was the custom. Normally he would listen carefully before forming as fair an opinion as he could and passing judgement. Today, he barely heard them.

If his people noticed that his answers were more vague than usual, no one dared to comment on it. At one point he saw his most trusted advisor, Tadashi, frown at something his lord had just said, and Taro forced himself to concentrate properly for a while.

‘Wait.’ He held up a hand. ‘Could you repeat that, please? You were mumbling.’ Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tadashi’s shoulders relax as the petition was dealt with efficiently. When this was done, Taro rose abruptly signalling the end of the session. ‘You will excuse me, I have other matters to attend to this morning. The rest of you return tomorrow, if you please.’ He gave a small nod and everyone in the room bowed low.

Although his words had been polite, everyone knew they were a command, not a request. No one argued with a
daimyo
, that was unheard of. As a feudal lord, Taro’s power was absolute. If he had told Tadashi to cut off the last petitioner’s head, it would have been done instantly, without hesitation. For that matter, had he ordered Tadashi to commit suicide,
seppuku
, the man would have obeyed just as readily.

Being a
daimyo
wasn’t easy, but it was something which had been bred into him for as long as he could remember. A
daimyo
could in theory do whatever he pleased, but with this freedom came the burdens of justice, benevolence, courtesy and honour. Taro’s father had believed that benevolence and wisdom were the most important requirements for a ruler and he had impressed this upon his son. Taro therefore always tried his best to be magnanimous and fair in his dealings with his clan and vassals.

As everyone filed out of the long, high-ceilinged room, Taro stayed motionless on the dais. His let his eyes wander, taking in the beautiful gold-leaf screens, painted with a variety of fierce animals, that covered the walls. His gaze continued to the ornately painted ceiling and intricately carved roof beams. None of this opulence had any effect on him. He’d seen it all before and although he normally took pride in his exquisite surroundings, today he felt only emptiness inside.

What’s wrong with me
, he wondered, sinking down onto the soft silk cushion once more and leaning his chin on one hand. He should be happy and fulfilled, now that he had everything a man could possibly want – land, power, wealth, a lovely wife and, through his marriage, alliances with other powerful
samurai
families. But there was still something missing.

He knew it all boiled down to Hasuko’s continued refusal to let him into her thoughts. She was very clever, he had to admit, doing everything that was expected of her without protest and usually with alacrity. But something about the way she looked at him wasn’t right. She made him feel insignificant. As if he were in the presence of a queen and not worthy of the honour she bestowed on him. He didn’t like it. He had never felt inferior to anyone in his life, not even to the
Shogun
. No, he didn’t like it one little bit, but there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.

He didn’t know why it should matter. She was just a woman, one among many. There were others who could please him whenever he wished – like his sister-in-law for example, who persisted with her suggestive glances – but they meant nothing. Hasuko was his wife. She owed him deference, and although outwardly she gave it willingly, he was certain that this was just an act. He clenched his fists, but tried not to give in to the anger that simmered inside him.

Yanagihara came slowly into the room, the only person in the castle who would have dared to intrude on the lord’s solitude. He walked with the aid of a beautifully carved cane. Taro noticed the old man’s back curved forward as if his head was becoming too heavy for the rest of his body. The deeply set eyes, however, were as alert as always, the gaze intelligent and sharp.

‘My lord?’ Yanagihara said and bowed as far as his old back permitted.

Taro forced his mind into the present and stifled a sigh. ‘Yanagihara-
san
. What can I do for you?’

The old man’s face crinkled into a tiny smile. ‘Nothing, my lord. I came because you have need of me. Your spirit is restless,
neh
?’

‘How did you …?’ Taro caught himself in time. He should know better than to ask such a stupid question. The old man had probably had a vision. ‘Yes,’ he said instead. ‘Can you help me?’

The old man answered with a question of his own. ‘Have you been dreaming lately?’

‘Dreaming? Well, actually, yes. Last night I dreamt of a
kami
who wouldn’t leave me alone. She tore at me, trying to pull me down into … oh, I can’t remember. A void perhaps.’

‘She? The spirit was a female?’

‘Yes, most definitely. Her shape was clearly defined although she was surrounded by tongues of fire.’

‘Ah, I thought so.’

Yanagihara remained silent for so long, Taro wanted to shout out loud, but a
samurai
had to remain calm at all times, so he waited patiently. At length he was rewarded.

‘I have the answer, my lord.’ Yanagihara nodded, as if satisfied with himself. ‘It is the foreign woman. She must be coming closer and her influence is beginning to take hold.’

‘Foreign woman?’ Taro had expected his dream to have something to do with Hasuko and had forgotten all about the
gai-jin
. ‘Oh, you mean the one you had a vision about a while back?’

‘Indeed, my lord. She will affect your life, I’m sure of it. I have seen her myself recently. That was partly what brought me here today.’

‘And what was she doing, when you saw her?’

‘Still standing on the ship, but laughing this time, not looking at me. She seemed less agitated.’

Taro shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Why should a woman I’ve never met be affecting me? It doesn’t make sense. I have enough trouble with the women around here, some more than most.’

Yanagihara drew himself up haughtily and prepared to turn away. Taro had often seen him do this whenever his visions were laughed at or scorned. ‘Wait,’ he said, holding up one hand. ‘I didn’t say I don’t believe you, it’s just that I find it unlikely, but you have been right before. I shouldn’t doubt you.’

Yanagihara relaxed and turned back. He nodded once more. ‘We shall just have to wait and see. Try to think of other things, my lord. Go and have a bath and massage, let the serving ladies pamper you, entertain you. The world is full of women, and this particular one is still far away. I will tell you when I sense her presence coming closer.’

‘Thank you. Yes, I’ll take your advice.’ A relaxing bath, some food, then a visit to his wife. He would overcome her reluctance, somehow. Yes, that was what he would do. The dream had unsettled him, that was all. No woman had the power to make him miserable. He wouldn’t allow it.

Chapter Nine

Plymouth, Devon, 29th June 1611

The Plymouth quayside was shrouded in a fog as thick as pease pottage, which blanketed the streets and muffled all sounds. Hannah thanked God for its protection, but shivered at the eeriness of it all the same.

There was something about fog which made her feel unreal, as if she was walking through a dream world. A nightmare even. She didn’t like it. The swirling mass came rolling in from the sea, drifting this way and that. The wisps of moisture seemed to be possessed by restless spirits, reaching out their insubstantial claws to grab at passers-by. She muttered a swift prayer to ward off any evil.

Hannah knew Edward’s clothes fitted her tolerably well, but it felt strange to be wearing boys’ garments. Added to this, the pair of old knee-length boots, which he had recently outgrown, were slightly too big. Compared to walking with a long skirt her legs were wonderfully unrestricted, although the breeches chafed in places she wouldn’t normally notice. She ignored the discomfort and lengthened her stride to what she hoped was a more manly one.

As Hannah rounded a corner and turned onto the main thoroughfare, a flesh and blood hand shot out of the darkness. It pulled her into the shadows before she had time to protest, and she cried out in fright. Her heart leapt into her throat and her stomach turned to ice.

‘Lookin’ for a good time, lad? It won’t cost you much, seein’ as how it’s prob’ly yer first time.’ The voice was silky, but the hand that held her was a hard vice clamped around her wrist, dragging her inexorably closer. ‘I like first-timers, I do …’ A cackle of laughter erupted near Hannah’s left ear and she was hauled towards a massive bosom. The overwhelming stench of some flowery scent, coupled with the woman’s own body odour and fetid breath, was almost too much for Hannah. She gagged and gasped for breath.

‘No, leave me be!’ Hannah panicked and fear gave her added strength so that she managed to free herself from the grasp. She took to her heels and ran without looking back, the cackling ringing in her ears. She had known being abroad at night wouldn’t be easy, but she thought that by dressing as a boy she would be spared unwanted attention. It had never occurred to her she’d be propositioned by the ladies of the night. Obviously, her disguise worked better than she had thought.

Hannah stayed as far away from the lights of the taverns as possible and kept to the shadows where she hoped no one else would notice her. None of the shops were open and the only people about were drunken sailors wending their way from one alehouse to the next, singing raucously. Hannah made sure to keep well away from them.

‘Oi, there!’ The shout coming from somewhere behind made her jump and scuttle into a doorway. Her heart lodged in her throat again, but she soon realised the man hadn’t meant her. His call was answered by another. She heaved a sigh of relief and continued on her way, hefting her bundle up on one shoulder.

‘I can’t turn back now,’ she muttered. ‘I’ve come this far.’ But it was only by sheer will-power that she managed to put one foot in front of the other. Her conscience screamed at her to end this madness and turn back. She clenched her jaw in determination and carried on towards her goal. The alternative – marriage to Mr Hesketh – didn’t bear thinking of.

During the day, the port was a bustling hive of activity and whenever Hannah ventured down there she was almost deafened by the noise. Traders cried their wares from stalls or shop doorways and sweating dockers loaded or unloaded cargo while calling to one another. Among the crowds, sailors of all nationalities could be heard shouting to each other in unintelligible languages. Porters carried baskets or scurried by pushing barrows, yelling for people to get out of their way. Merchants and their customers discussed deals in loud voices. Now, they were all gone and Hannah could hear her solitary footsteps echoing loudly on the cobbles. It was as if she was in a different place altogether.

She reached the far end of the harbour at last. Two ships, the
Elizabetta
and the
Sea Sprite
, lay anchored side by side here, barely visible through the clouds of fog that drifted silently over the water. Their shadowy bulks moved slowly up and down, cradled by the sea. Hannah could hear the creaking of ropes and the protesting squeak of the block and tackle. The smell of tar and caulking invaded her nostrils, as well as the salty tang of the sea. She had lived in Plymouth all her life, and there was nothing unfamiliar about these sights and sounds. Except for the fact that she had never encountered them in the dark of night before of course.

Both ships had been chartered by her father for this venture to the other side of the world. It was a journey of such magnitude that Hannah could barely imagine it. Two more ships, anchored at the other end of the harbour, would be joining them as well, she knew.

‘We’re going beyond the sunset,’ Jacob had joked when Hannah had dared to ask how far he was travelling. It seemed a very apt description to her.

Jacob was to captain one of the ships – although she wasn’t sure which one – and Hannah was determined to go with him. She would be safe with Jacob. Captain Rydon was in charge of the other ship and since Jacob was in command on this voyage, Hannah assumed he would have the larger vessel. Accordingly, she made her way cautiously towards the
Sea Sprite
and crouched behind some barrels on the quay. From this vantage point, she observed the ships in silence for some time.

‘You need to be ruthless if you wish to prosper.’
Her father’s words echoed through her mind now as Hannah peered out from her hiding place. She was certainly following his advice, but she doubted very much he would approve of her doings this night. It was one thing to urge a son to go out into the world, but daughters were meant to stay at home.

‘Well I won’t,’ she muttered rebelliously. ‘Not if it means I have to marry Mr Hesketh.’

The
Sea Sprite
lay in darkness except for a single lantern, which appeared to be moving around somewhere near the quarter deck. The man carrying the light walked around the perimeter of the ship, obviously checking that all was in order. Other than this, no one stirred either on deck or on land. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Where was everyone?

When the man retraced his steps, Hannah took her chance. She grabbed her bundle and crept towards the gangplank. It wobbled slightly as she scurried up and onto the ship’s deck, but she made it across safely. The sound of footsteps echoed in the stillness of the night and she hid behind a thick mast, trying to make herself as thin as possible.

‘Who’s there?’

The gruff voice was terrifyingly close. For a heart-stopping moment Hannah waited for the man to discover her presence, but he didn’t. Instead she heard his footsteps retreating while he muttered imprecations under his breath. Hannah waited for what seemed an eternity, hardly daring to breathe. Finally she deemed the coast to be clear and headed for the main hatch down to the storage area at the bottom of the ship.

Hannah had been on enough of her father’s ships to know her way around perfectly. Without mishap, she made it down below deck and stood still for a while to listen once again. She couldn’t detect the sounds of any other human beings, only the faint slapping noise of the waves outside. The stale air below deck made her recoil slightly. The odours of unwashed bodies and foul substances assailed her, but she soon became used to it.

Her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness and in a nearby corner she made out the shape of a bucket. Hannah helped herself to it, knowing it would come in useful during the next few days.
I should have thought of that before.
Then she continued further down into the hold, shuddering as the darkness enfolded her. The various shapes of the cargo loomed all around her – crates, kegs, sacks and barrels. It was unbelievable that such valuable goods were not being better guarded, she thought, but perhaps all the sailors had wanted to take this opportunity to enjoy their last night in port. Or perhaps they just slept deeply and she’d been lucky not to wake them. Either way, she sent up a prayer of thanks.

Something brushed against her leg almost at knee-height, and Hannah stifled a scream.

‘
Miaooow
.’

She let out her breath in a harsh gasp. ‘Oh, shame on you, you scared the life out of me,’ she whispered. The ship’s cat circled her legs and she welcomed his presence, hoping he would keep the rats at bay. She bent to stroke the sleek animal and he purred to show his appreciation of such attention.

‘Now where do you suggest I hide? Found any good places, Kitty?’ she whispered.

‘
Miaow
.’

‘You’re not much help. I suppose I’ll have to search for myself then.’ It was a relief to have someone to talk to, even if it was just a cat, and Hannah relaxed as she began to look for a likely hiding place. Fortune had smiled on her this far, surely all would be well now. She just had to keep quiet.

At last she found a small space where she could crawl in behind a pile of barrels. Cramped and dark, the smell from the bilge water permeated the floor from underneath. Her hiding place was only just big enough for her to lie down if she curled herself into a little ball, but it was the best spot available.

Hannah resigned herself to patience. If she didn’t endure this, all her endeavours would have been for nothing. Surely she could stand it for just a few short days? She stowed her bundle next to her and settled down on the hard planking.

Sleep proved impossible, however. Soon after she’d found her hideaway, the crew began to return to the ship. Her guess that they’d been enjoying their last night on land proved accurate, as their loud voices and some raucous singing confirmed, but shouted commands soon silenced them. Hannah couldn’t hear what was being said, but she knew they would have to be up before dawn to catch the tide. She didn’t envy them their sore heads then.

Hannah wriggled around, trying to find a comfortable position on the thin blanket, but her thoughts wouldn’t give her any respite. She began to wonder if she had lost her mind entirely. What sensible girl would stow away on a ship going on a dangerous journey to the other side of the world? It was complete madness, and yet she couldn’t bear the thought of marrying Mr Hesketh, giving him the right to continue where he’d left off the other day. She shuddered violently at the memory.

Another thing occurred to her. By running away like this, she would be going where Captain Rydon went. If she had stayed behind, her chances of ever seeing him again would have been slim. Very slim indeed. ‘We’ll be gone for years,’ she’d heard Jacob say, and by then Hannah’s father would have found her a husband. Whether it was Mr Hesketh or someone else was immaterial.

Captain Rydon had admired her courage. ‘You have spirit,’ he’d told her. Well, she would show him further proof of it and perhaps, just perhaps, he would come to admire other things about her as well. What did she have to lose other than her life now?

Jacob had a soft spot for Hannah. Although she knew he would be very angry, she was sure she could persuade him to take her along once he had recovered from the shock of finding her on board. Besides, he wouldn’t have any choice. Hannah didn’t have any intention of being found immediately. She’d watched enough departures to know there were always smaller boats around who would be only too willing to take her back to shore in disgrace. No, she had to stay hidden until they were well out at sea.

Her eyelids began to close at last and she smiled in the darkness. Jacob would protect her. He might even be glad of her company.

If only she could get through the first few days undetected, she’d be fine.