Virginia Henley (29 page)

“I’m afraid he’s occupied at the moment, ma’am.” He hesitated. “His daughters are with him.”

“Well, I’m sure if you told him that the sister of his partner, Mr. O’Reilly, was in his waiting room, he would see me,” she ventured.

“Oh, I’m pleased to meet you, madame. Mr. O’Reilly is a great favorite around here. I’ll tell Mr. Bolt right away that you are here.”

She was shown into an office with large, ugly furniture.

Isaac Bolt was in his sixties with graying mutton chop whiskers. The eldest daughter was quite pretty, but the younger one had slightly protuberant eyes with hooded lids. Kitty knew immediately that she was very shrewd. Kitty held out her hand to Isaac Bolt and smiled. “I’m Patrick’s sister, Barbara. How do you do, Mr. Bolt?”

“A pleasure, my dear. These are my daughters. Alice is the pretty one, and this is Maude. Maude is the fey one, but what she lacks in beauty she makes up for with brains.” He laughed heartily and Maude stood up on tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. “Exactly so, exactly so, Maude. What service may I render you, Miss O’Reilly?”

“I’m going to join Patrick in America. I would like passage to Charleston on the first available ship.”

“I do admire an adventuress. Let’s see now: Big Jim Harding is sailing tomorrow or the next day. I can issue your tickets right here.”

“How much is the passage, Mr. Bolt?”

“Well, let’s see now. It’s forty pounds, or if you wish a cabin to yourself and first-class service, it’s fifty pounds.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” said Kitty, carefully extracting fifty pounds from her purse.

“Are you traveling alone?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yes. You see, my maid took sick on the journey from London, so I left her at our house in Bolton,” she improvised quickly.

“I see. Well, just a moment and I’ll validate this ticket for you. Now, you must stay with us tonight. We’re on our way home now. My girls will be delighted to have you, my dear.”

“Ah—well, I was planning to put up at the Adelphi Hotel,”
she lied, “but you know how they frown on women traveling alone.”

“Just so, my dear, just so.”

Kitty smiled to herself as she sat down to dinner. Boiled meat, boiled potatoes, boiled cabbage. It was all so unappetizing. Kitty realized it was fortunate she hadn’t developed a delicate palate. She marveled at Isaac Bolt, who seemed to have the digestion of a horse. When dessert arrived, he exclaimed with relish, “Ah, spotted dick!”

Kitty laughed aloud, not at the quaint name he had given it, but at the fact that the pudding also was boiled.

After dinner, her father insisted Alice sing for them. He requested all the mawkish, sentimental Irish ballads and Alice delivered them in her high, too-sweet voice, while her father beamed fatuously. The evening seemed endless, until Kitty wished she had spent the night under a hedge. Somehow the evening came to a close.

“I’ll take you down to the ship in my carriage in the morning and see you safely aboard. Maude here will show you to a guest room. Breakfast is at seven sharp. Alice, come.”

When they were alone, Maude looked at Kitty and said, “Excruciating, wasn’t it?”

Kitty’s lips twitched appreciatively and she came close to liking Maude. On impulse Kitty said, “When I came into the office today, what did you whisper to your father?”

“I said, ‘If that’s Patrick’s sister, I’m a Chinaman!’”

Kitty blushed vividly. “Then why did he let me continue with the deception?”

Maude shrugged. “Don’t worry about Father; his whole life’s a deception.” She jerked her head toward the stairs and said, “He’s having her, you know.”

“You don’t mean … you can’t mean … his own daughter? I don’t believe it!”

Maude laughed. “Believe it! I’m the youngest of twenty-one children he’s had out of four different wives. When the last one died, the family all got together and decided to put a stop to him having droves of wives and children. There’s twenty-one of us to divvy up when he goes to that great shipyard in the sky, so Alice was the logical sacrifice.”

“But that’s unheard of!” said Kitty.

Maude chuckled. “Aye, unheard of, but a common enough practice all the same. Think now, surely you know one or two families where a widower has one of his daughters fill his wife’s place?”

“Only socially,” protested Kitty.

“Socially and privately,” assured Maude.

“Does Patrick know what’s going on?” asked Kitty, scandalized.

“I’m certain he doesn’t; however, we all could stand on our heads and smoke Indian hemp and he wouldn’t show a flicker of interest in us personally. He’s all business. In fact, you are a very big surprise to me. I’ve often wondered about Patrick’s woman. I pictured either a toffee-nosed daughter of a peer, or a plain-faced girl as rich as Croesus. I never thought he’d let his heart overrule his head in a million years.”

“Well,” Kitty said with a laugh, “that’s a very pretty compliment. Thank you.”

“Save the thanks, lass; you aren’t wed yet!”

Kitty took one look at the captain, Big Jim Harding, and felt terrified. He was a huge man with a barrel chest. He had a full beard of golden curls, but his head was shaved bald. When he raised his voice to shout orders to the men, it could be heard from one end of the ship to the other. His laugh was full-bellied and his mouth showed the glint of gold teeth. “Jemmy! Jemmy! Take this lady to the small cabin next to mine. Ma’am, I’ll be sailing on the evening tide, I’d be obliged if you can keep to your cabin until after we sail.” He nodded a curt dismissal and Kitty followed the cabinboy below decks. The cabin was small with a neat wooden bunk built into the wall. There was a tall sea chest, which doubled as a table with a stool beside it. There was no cupboard or wardrobe for her clothes, but only wooden pegs on the walls. The floor was bare boards without covering, and the room boasted only three things to add to her comfort: an oil lamp, a tin bowl for washing and a chamber pot. Kitty was quite pleased with the cabin. It smelled salty fresh. The floorboards had obviously been scrubbed with seawater, and she was thankful the bed was clean. When she lay down on the bunk to rest, the gentle rocking motion of the water lulled her to sleep. She awoke when Jemmy brought her supper. The food was good. When she finished there was a knock on the door. Captain Harding entered and filled the room with his presence. Kitty gave a little gasp of fear, at which he laughed. His presence was so overpowering in the small cabin, Kitty could hardly breathe. He was so male, it was tangible in the air.

“Are you Isaac Bolt’s woman?” he asked bluntly.

“Of course not!” she said angrily. “I’m no one’s woman!”

“Then how’s your sex life?” he said and grinned.

She gasped. “Captain Harding, how dare you show me such disrespect?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Go on with you, I’m just pulling your leg! Don’t you think I know how Victorian girls are brought up in England? Damned unnatural. All them clothes you wear from your earholes to the floor. I tell you, seductions have become damned difficult, so take that worried look off your face,” he said with a laugh.

“I assure you, Captain Harding, I never …”

“I’ll bet you never,” he said, grinning. “You don’t know what you’re missing. Why, do you know, in certain parts of the world the young women run about naked?”

She was sure he enjoyed shocking her, so she said repressively, “Please, Captain, I should like to be alone. Was there something you wished of me?”

“Call me Big Jim. Do you know why they call me Big Jim?”

She paled visibly.

“No, no, it’s not what you’re thinking! Mine’s no bigger than the next man’s.” He laughed, then winked. “It’s just harder!”

“Good night, Captain Harding,” and she blushed over his name.

After he had gone, she found that she was trembling. “Such a coarse, uncouth man. So vulgar and … and … male!” she said to herself. She feared she would be raped in her bed before the night was over, and lay for hours not daring to close her eyes. She was awakened by a knock on the cabin door.

She was amazed to find it was morning. She let Jemmy in
with her breakfast and said, “I was afraid it was the captain.”

“You are never afraid of the captain, are you, ma’am? He’s a wonderful man!”

“Yes, I am afraid. He’s so big and coarse and vulgar. He scares me out of my wits with that shaved head of his.”

“Oh, his looks are deceivin’, all right. I could see where he’d frighten you if you met him in a dark alley, but once you get to know him, he’s a real gentleman.”

“Gentleman? That’s not how I’d describe him! What do you mean?”

“You should see him in port when he walks down the street. If he meets a little girl, he gives her a flower; a little lad, and he hands out money.”

“Really?” she asked.

“That’s the captain. Now, eat hearty before it’s stone cold!”

Kitty pulled up the little stool to the table and cracked open her boiled egg. The tea began to slosh about in the cup and splashed over into the saucer. The plate slid about on the tray, and the tray slid about on the table. The table seemed to be heaving up and down, and all at once her stomach was keeping time with it. She moaned and covered her mouth. She feared she was going to be sick, but as her insides churned miserably for such an interminable length of time, she began to fear that she wasn’t going to be sick and obtain blessed relief. She arose and as she moved toward her bunk, the floor went up under her right foot and down under her left. At last she vomited into the washbowl. All seemed well for a moment. She wiped her mouth on the towel and leaned against the wall. She began rolling with the ship, and the nausea arose again. Acid, stinging her throat; sour smell assaulting her nostrils, she vomited again. She shuddered at her own nastiness and sank down upon her bunk.

Jemmy took away her dirty bowl, ignoring her protests that she could clean up her own mess. She drank a little water and lay down again. The seasickness was with her all the next day. She refused all food but kept down some water.

Late in the afternoon, Captain Harding came into her cabin. “You need some fresh air. Come on, now, out of there and get up on deck.”

“Please, just leave me,” she begged feebly.

“No chance. You are going up if I have to carry you.”

She got off the bed under her own steam. She went slowly up the steps to the deck, and as she did so Captain Harding below her was given a delicious display of ankles. He reached up to caress one of them, but Kitty felt too wretched even to protest. The brisk wind smashed her in the face! She struggled to the rail and began to retch. In an instant he was holding her. One arm secured her safely, while the other held her stomach rigid and miraculously her guts stopped trying to turn themselves inside out. He massaged her knotted stomach muscles until they began to relax. Even though she felt so sick, she didn’t want any man seeing her vomit. As she looked up at him, she saw his mouth curved with compassion and was very thankful for his help. She heard him murmur,
“Pauvre petite.”
She thought vaguely that he was too uncultured to speak French.

“Now,” he said briskly, “once around the deck. Take my arm. I wouldn’t want you to be swept overboard.”

The entire crew leered at her as she made her way along the deck. They looked more like criminals than sailors. One man was standing so close that she knew she would have to walk around him if she was to avoid brushing up against him. Jim Harding’s arm shot out and the man was sprawled on the deck. Kitty noticed the captain had fists like hams, and the impact had made a sickening thud. Not one word was exchanged.

He searched her face for some sign of color, but although the wind whipped her cloak and hair about, her pallor was almost ethereal. The protective urge soared in his breast as he bent his head to caution her, “Never walk alone, day or night. Never forget to secure your cabin door.”

She nodded her understanding, afraid to open her lips. He feared she would faint, but at last they had circled the deck and he led her down to her cabin. He went into his own cabin and returned with wine. “Drink this, slowly now. It will stay down better than water, and it will restore you. Good girl! Now then, into bed with you and sleep the clock round. I’ll have Jemmy bring you dry biscuit to nibble on; that won’t make you queasy.” He turned swiftly to the door and bade her, “Lock this after me.”

She whispered “Thank you” so low she wondered if he had heard.

It was into the second week before her seasickness departed. She kept to her cabin unless Captain Harding was free to take her up on deck. Sometimes in the evenings he would invite her to dine with him, and after interminable days of her own company, she was glad to do so. Her eyes widened in surprise the first time she had dined in his cabin. Snowy, starched cloth and napkins, tall silver candlesticks, heavy lead crystal goblets and Sèvres china graced his table. The captain himself was attired in a very formal dark suit and stiff shirt, which made him look uncomfortable rather than elegant. However, he had done it for her and she was glad she had worn the pale green woolen dress and the dark green velvet cloak. Watching her, he said, “The eye also dines.”