Dawn on a Distant Shore (29 page)

She let out a harsh
laugh. "You are not looking for more trouble?"

"Not exactly on
the lookout, no. But expecting more than we've run into. There was a whaleboat
full of soldiers on the river--that's what startled Hannah into falling out of
the canoe-- and they never even looked hard at us."

A thoughtful look came
over her. "Well, you were traveling with a child. And you have changed
your clothes since you left Montréal."

"You think a
change of clothes could hide Robbie MacLachlan in a crowd? Or my father, or me,
either? If they're looking for us, they ain't looking very hard. It just don't
feel right."

Elizabeth was more
herself now that he had given her something to puzzle through. He could almost
see the thoughts flying behind her eyes. "Wouldn't Pickering or Moncrieff
have heard if the search had been called off?"

"I don't know.
The thing is, we can't walk into the garrison and ask if they're looking for
us."

"But Will could
inquire," Elizabeth said, glancing out of the windows. "If only he
would come back."

"Aye, well. In
the meantime I was thinking that it's time Pickering's surgeon took a look at
Curiosity," said Nathaniel. "See what he can do for that cough of
hers. We'll all go."

"But surely the
Providence
would be safer? Perhaps the captain could be persuaded to sail this evening
..."

Nathaniel shook his
head. "I ain't comfortable taking you to the
Providence
until we've
had a close look at her. Seems to me that the
Isis
's our only choice for
tonight."

Elizabeth closed her
eyes for a moment, and then she nodded. "I'll talk to Curiosity and get
the children ready. You'll arrange it with Pickering?"

He nodded.
"There's no time to lose, Boots."

"There never
is." She cast him a sidelong glance, her color rising again. "There's
an old acquaintance of yours on board the
Isis
. We saw her arrive today,
with all her baggage."

Nathaniel raised an
eyebrow. "There's nobody on the
Isis
who interests me, Boots. It's
just a place to spend the night, is all. With you."

"Good," said
Elizabeth, her eyes snapping a silver-gray warning at him in spite of her
smile. "I am so very glad to hear it."

Hawkeye carried Hannah
to the
Isis
, but when Robbie offered the same service to Curiosity, she
chased him away from her sickbed with a croaking laugh.

"My legs is
working just fine," she told him. "It's my chest that ain't
cooperating." And she walked down the gangplank straight backed, her basket
over one arm and a handkerchief pressed firmly to her mouth. Moncrieff popped
up beside her as if to offer his assistance and she sent him scuttling with a
single sharp glance.

On any of Québec's
streets they would surely have drawn attention to themselves for they made a
strange, straggling procession. But the boatyards of Forbes and Sons Enterprises
were private, and they had no audience beyond a great yellow slug of moon and
the watchmen whose lanterns bobbed around the perimeter of the warehouse like
fairy lights. And still the short journey seemed very long indeed, so that
against Elizabeth's shoulder Lily might have suddenly doubled in weight.

The
Isis
herself was almost completely dark. Elizabeth was the last to step on board,
just behind Nathaniel. Pickering was there to meet them with a few hushed words
of welcome; before she could make out much about the ship at all they had been
hurried down a companionway. Elizabeth did take note of this: no simple ladder
for the
Isis
, but a proper staircase in a graceful curve. Under her hand
the banister was as smooth and cool as marble, dark wood polished to a high
gloss, inlaid with ivory in an intricate geometric pattern.

It turned out that
their destination was not the Great Cabin, which was in the possession of Miss Somerville.
In a whisper Pickering informed them that she had already retired for the
evening; Elizabeth tried not to look relieved to hear this news as she assured
the captain that she did not mind at all. A servant boy waited for them in a
puddle of candlelight. He wore a flat cap with
Isis
embroidered on the
rim in scarlet, and he opened a door with a bob that was meant to be a bow.

At first Elizabeth
could not quite believe that this would be the
Isis
's second-best living
quarters. Even Nathaniel let out a grunt of surprise and Robbie whistled softly
under his breath.

"The stateroom,"
said Pickering. "It serves as a sitting area. There are cabins at each corner,
as you see."

Curiosity pivoted on
her heel, taking in silk cushions on built-in sofas, a rosewood spinet, a
dining table and sideboard of highly polished cherrywood. A dozen candles in silver
sconces reflected in the mahogany paneling and a broad expanse of casement
windows that opened onto a gallery. Curiosity fingered the draperies of damask
and brocade, and ran her hand over the matching bolsters and cushions on the window
seat. "A hard life these sailors lead," she muttered.

But Pickering seemed
not at all insulted. "The
Isis
often transports persons of some importance,
and for extended periods," he explained. "There is an obligation to
make them feel at home. When we had the honor of escorting the Duchess
Dalyrimple to join the duke in Bengal she had the Great Cabin, of course--but
these were her daughter's rooms."

"Then I guess
it's about good enough for my grandchildren," Hawkeye said dryly. "I
don't suppose those Dalypimple girls slept on the floor, did they?"

Robbie laughed out
loud and in response Hannah began to stir on Hawkeye's arm. There were a few
moments of hushed activity as they moved the children into one of the corner
cabins. Hannah disappeared into a feather bed piled high with counterpanes, and
there was even an ornately carved cradle large enough for the twins, made up
with linen that smelled faintly of lavender.

When Elizabeth came
into the main sitting area, Curiosity was sitting on an elegant bow-backed chair
covered in striped silk, studying the stateroom and the cabin boys who had appeared
to lay out platters of breads and cold meats. She had little to say but
produced a steady wheezing cough that Elizabeth liked not at all. Moncrieff and
Robbie had put their heads together in front of a painting of a pack of hunting
dogs, but she managed to catch Captain Pickering's eye and direct his attention
toward Curiosity.

He cleared his throat.
"Mrs. Freeman," he began. "My surgeon sends his regrets that he
could not be here to greet you personally, but he has a difficult case that requires
all his attention."

Curiosity narrowed one
eye suspiciously. "Does he now." The long dark fingers fluttered, as
if to indicate that more information would not be unwelcome.

"One of the
midshipmen with a splinter lodged in the flesh of his upper arm. It was some
days before he thought to seek out attention and I fear it is come away badly
infected. Hakim Ibrahim would be very thankful for your consultation on the
wound--if it is not too much of an imposition."

"I believe he was
planning to drain it this evening," added Moncrieff, studying a point on the
wall well above Curiosity's head.

She scanned their
faces one by one. "I don' know, I truly don't. Do I look so simpleminded?
Everybody so eager to send me off to see the Hakim, makin' up stories for me to
swallow whole."

Pickering flustered
visibly, but Hawkeye laughed.

"Well, Christ,
woman," he said. "We could just tie you down to let the doctor have a
look at you. Though I expect you'd give us a tussle."

To Elizabeth's relief,
Curiosity produced a reluctant smile. "You hardly one to talk, Dan'l
Bonner. I remember Cora threatening you with a rope more than once when you was
fevered."

"Och, aye,"
said Robbie, glancing between the two of them. "Ye're gey stubborn, the
baith o' ye. P'rhaps ye could open a school for mules once ye're hame agin
safe. But today, Curiosity ma dear, ye're fair wabblin' wi' fever. Will ye no'
take aid and solace when it's offered in friendship?"

"I do wish you
would," added Elizabeth softly. "I am quite worried about you."

Curiosity pushed out a
ragged breath and then raised one shoulder in defeat. "All right, then. If
it'll set your mind at ease. I suppose it won't hurt me to drink his fever teas
though I ain't ever yet seen a doctor who knew anything worth knowing about
herbals. ... Lord knows I'm willing to be surprised. Captain, you'll have to
show me the way to this Hakim fellow of yours. Elizabeth, I expect you'll cope
without me."

"I'll do my
best," Elizabeth agreed, suddenly aware of Nathaniel at her back and his breath
on her hair.

"Have ye any
objection tae company along the way?" Robbie asked Pickering. "She's
a bonnie ship, and I expect we'll ne'er see the like agin."

To Elizabeth's
amazement, both Hawkeye and Nathaniel seemed just as interested in the prospect
of exploring the ship. She caught Nathaniel by the sleeve. "You won't go
off to the
Providence
, will you--"

"Not until Bears
comes back," he promised. The look in his eyes was as warm as his touch.
He whispered, then, "Don't go to bed without me." And they were off,
leaving her suddenly alone in the splendid cabin.

For a while she simply
sat, overwhelmed by fatigue. In another life she might have examined the violin
laid to rest in its case on the top of the spinet, the coat of arms above it,
or the portraits that lined one wall. A young man in brown velvet with an
elaborately curled wig seemed almost to be scowling at her in the flickering of
the candlelight. And why not? What was she doing here?

Elizabeth got up and
took a turn around the room, her feet sinking into the deep Turkish carpet.
There was a long shelf of books on the wall with the predictable treatises on
weather and navigation, but there were other volumes, too. Novels with well-worn
spines,
The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling; Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded;
The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews; The Castle of Otranto.
Equally
well thumbed were the Shakespeare tragedies and what seemed to be a full set of
Moliére in the original French. There was much more: Aristotle, Dante,
Cervantes, Machiavelli, Newton, Bacon, and Galileo. Elizabeth was intrigued in
spite of herself, and newly curious about the captain.

With a sigh, she
turned her mind to more practical matters: she ate some dried fruit from the
platter on the sideboard, checked on the twins once and then again, sat for a
little while by Hannah's bedside simply watching her sleep, sorted through
their baskets, folded clothing, and made ready for a hasty departure should that
prove necessary. After a moment's hesitation she rang for the cabin boy and
requested hot water. This he produced in very short order, along with a
message.

"Ma'am. Hakim
Ibrahim sends word that Mrs. Freeman is sleeping and he wants to know may he
call on you in the morning?" It came out in an earnest tumble.

"Please thank the
Hakim," Elizabeth said. "I will look forward to his call."

She was almost sorry
to send the boy on his way, but there was the hot water and it was growing
late. Elizabeth found that she did not have the energy to take on laundry; that
would have to wait until they were safely on board the
Providence
. Instead
she had a quick bathe, changed into her nightdress, and brushed out her hair.
By the casement clock she saw that Nathaniel had been gone forty minutes. It
was a mystery to her that even sensible and rational men seemed to find gun
decks and cannons endlessly interesting.

A deep settee with an
abundance of pillows was inviting, but her nerves were strung tight and she could
not relax: Runs-from-Bears and Will had been gone three hours.

With her shawl around
her shoulders Elizabeth went to the long wall of draperies that had been pulled
closed before the transom windows. They put her in mind of Aunt Merriweather's
morning room at Oakmere; she might pull them apart and find a lawn that sloped
down to the rose gardens, and beyond them, a sea churning in shades of emerald and
evergreen. But when she slipped between the panels Elizabeth found only the
river, caught up in the moonlight. A hundred masts poked into the night sky, a
web of bony fingers out to snare a moon riding just out of reach. A shimmering
of candlelight came through the draperies so that she could make out her own
vague reflection in the glass, too pale and the unruly mass of her hair crackling
around her head. "Our very own Medusa," Aunt Merriweather had often
declared, convinced that Elizabeth's hair was the result of willful extravagance.
But it pleased Nathaniel, and so she left it.

A wide bench ran the
length of the windows, piled with velvet bolsters, faded to ivory and plum and
indigo in the half-light. It was a comfortable spot; she could rest a little, until
Nathaniel came. He had plans for her. And she had plans for him, too--they presented
themselves in bright, disjointed images. Her own appetites still surprised and
unsettled her, although they had been together for more than a year now.