Smuggler's Kiss (10 page)

This time when the ship docked at Cherbourg, no one locked me in the cabin. I didn’t try to escape. I stayed quietly on board and watched the sights and sounds of the foreign harbour; the ships coming and going under the French flag, the small boats bringing in fish, the French women who came to haggle, bargain and carry the fresh goods home to their families.

I ate the French food that the men brought on board and some of it was familiar. My father had, after all, employed a French chef when we spent the season in London last year.

We set sail again on a bright late-October morning, nosing quietly out of the still harbour into the fresh choppy sea beyond.

Jacob approached me where I stood in the bows, looking out towards England. ‘Skipper’s orders, Isabelle,’ he said with an apologetic grin. ‘You’re to take a turn with the chores.’

I stared at him, thinking he was joking for a minute.

‘Chores?’ I asked, mystified.

‘We all takes turns,’ Jacob explained. ‘Helping in the galley, swabbing the decks, cleaning the latrines, mending the sails; there’s always work a-plenty to be done. Skipper said to offer you a choice, but thought you might like to help out in the galley.’

I bit back the indignant objection that rose to my tongue: that these things were servants’ work, and that I was a lady. That these chores would spoil my hands and break my nails. Will was far above me in the rigging, but I knew just how he would look at me if I spoke the words aloud. He never shirked his share of the work, for all he must be as well-born as I.

‘We’re all equals on board
The Invisible
,’ Jacob added as though he could read my thoughts. Perhaps they were written clearly enough on my face for all I hadn’t voiced them. ‘You’re one of us now, and need to take your turn.’

I looked at Jacob’s rough, kindly face and realized I had no wish to be rude or offensive to him, even if Will wasn’t listening. He’d been more than kind to me. ‘Very well,’ I said slowly, pushing myself upright from where I’d been lounging against the ship’s rail. ‘I’ll help in the galley.’

If Jacob was surprised at my easy capitulation, he didn’t say so. He merely nodded in the direction of the galley and I headed over, opening the wooden door and stepping down the steps into the low kitchen and mess area.

The cook, a thin, wiry man with greying hair, looked at me over his shoulder and went back to chopping a large piece of meat with a cleaver. I heard a disparaging sniff. ‘I get the short straw then,’ he muttered.

‘The short straw?’ I asked walking towards him. ‘I’ve been asked to help you.’

‘That’s what I’m talking about. Just my luck to get the fine lady.’

‘Why does everyone think I’ll be useless?’ I asked, annoyed.

‘Because you are?’ the cook returned. Then he roared with laughter at the expression on my face. ‘Go on, then. Prove to me you’re not. There’s a pile of dishes to be done in the sink there. You can heat the water in this kettle. When you’ve finished those, the potatoes need preparing for dinner.’

I filled the kettle in silence and put it over the fire to heat. Then I stacked the dishes ready for washing and scrubbed all the tables which were full of crumbs and grease from the last meal. I tried not to ask the cook where anything was, hunting for it myself, determined to make him change his mind about me. Once the dishes were washed, wiped, stacked neatly away and the potatoes were carefully scrubbed and ready in a cauldron of water, I turned to the cook, knowing the work had taken me a very long time. He was leaning against the counter, watching me, his stained apron removed and thrown over a table.

‘Is there anything else that needs doing?’ I asked, bending down to stroke the galley cat who purred up at me.

Instead of replying, he held out his hand. ‘I’m Harry,’ he said.

Tentatively, I shook his hand. He smiled.

I worked in the galley every day after that. The skin on my hands roughened, the potatoes stained my skin, and my nails broke. But the strange thing was, I had a real sense of satisfaction in the work. It was far from arduous; a couple of hours a day at most. Perhaps I once might have found it too much but not now. When Will came in and saw me working, he gave me an approving nod, and forbore to taunt me. Jacob rewarded me with a smile. I was pleased and chose not to ask myself why I was seeking their approval.

The bright sun shining through my windows woke me very early one morning. I got up, combed my hair, washed my face, pulled on my shirt and hated breeches, and stepped out onto the deck. The skipper was at the wheel and gave me a nod. A man called Fred, whom I’d heard referred to as the pilot, was busy with various instruments.

It was a still morning, the sun still low but already bright in the east and surprisingly mild for early November. I stretched a little and breathed deeply, feeling inexplicably that life was good.

Will emerged from the hatch to my left. He slept below decks with the other men; a place they’d never allowed me to see on the grounds that ‘it wouldn’t be fit’. I was restricted to the open deck, the galley, and my own cabin.

There was a shout from far above us. Giving Will a wave, the look-out began to descend the rigging, as nimble as a monkey. Will nodded and swung himself into the rigging, preparing to climb up. He paused and looked at me. He hadn’t greeted me; until that moment I didn’t even think he’d seen me. There had been a tacit truce between us since our return from the haunting. ‘Come up with me?’ Will asked. ‘There’s a fine view.’

I looked upwards to the look-out far above us and shuddered. ‘Certainly not,’ I said.

Will grinned. ‘I dare you,’ he said softly.

I shook my head. ‘I’m not going to fall for that,’ I told him.

‘It’s not as difficult as it looks,’ he assured me. I shook my head. ‘What a shame,’ he said, looking disappointed. ‘I’d an idea you’d more courage than that.’ He began to climb. I stood there feeling I’d failed in some way.

‘Oh very well,’ I sighed, grasping a rope and taking a step up. ‘But you’d better make sure I don’t fall.’

I glanced up as I spoke and caught sight of a triumphant grin on Will’s face. I knew I’d been manipulated. But I began to climb anyway. Perhaps I was pleased that he wanted my company, or perhaps I was keen to test the new strength I felt in myself: the result of all the walking and work. It could have been a mixture of the two, but whatever it was, I found myself stepping nervously from rope to rope, grasping the hold above me firmly, and following Will’s instructions as he led me higher and higher into the rigging.

‘The trick is not to look down,’ he told me, climbing beside me, showing me where to step. ‘Just look up.’

I did as he said and kept climbing, but soon my arms and shoulders were aching with exertion. They began to tremble. ‘I need to rest,’ I said, puffing for breath. ‘This is hard work.’

Will shook his head at me. ‘No upper body strength,’ he said. ‘Did you never climb trees?’

I stopped climbing and stared at him in astonishment. ‘
Trees?
’ I asked. ‘You can’t be serious? Walks within the grounds on fine days with great care not to muddy our gowns was the most we did.’

I saw he was laughing at me. Of course he knew I hadn’t climbed trees.

‘It explains a great deal though,’ said Will.

I looked at him suspiciously. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked, expecting the worst.

Will laughed. ‘Nothing unkind, for once,’ he said. ‘Truly, I was just thinking such an upbringing explained your weakness and lack of adventurous spirit.’

‘That wasn’t unkind?’ I asked hauling myself up a step or two further. Will kept pace with me easily.

‘But you must have felt hemmed in,’ he said. ‘No wonder you were unhappy.’

‘Unhappy?’ I echoed. ‘I wasn’t unhappy! I had a wonderful time. I learned with my governess, we had tea with Mama and Papa; I had kittens and many toys. I learned music. And once I left the schoolroom, there were balls, theatre and concerts, dinners, breakfasts, picnics—oh! Every manner of entertainment! I had a wonderful time and am certainly not an object of compassion.’

Will frowned at me, puzzled. ‘But then why … ?’

Before he could finish his sentence several things happened in quick succession. A gust of wind broke the stillness of the morning, catching the sails and tilting the ship. The rigging swayed. My foot slipped and as I caught myself from falling by clutching at the ropes, I looked down. At the sight of the deck far below, little ant-sized people scuttling around on it, a burst of sick giddiness rushed at me, turning my muscles to wet porridge. I swayed and moaned. My stomach churned. The strength leeched out of my hands. Their grip loosened. I was going to fall; nothing could stop me.

Will’s arm caught my waist, holding me tightly against him. ‘I told you not to look down!’ he said in a matter-of-fact voice. I clung to him, eyes tightly shut against the dizzying drop, still fighting the nausea.

‘Isabelle!’ said Will sternly and shook me a little. ‘Look at me!’ I took a breath and opened my eyes. Will’s face was very close to mine. I stared into his eyes. The early-morning light was catching them, showing up tiny green and hazel flecks in the blue. They were calm eyes and the sight of them steadied me.

‘Breathe,’ Will commanded. I did as he said and felt my strength return slowly. ‘Good,’ Will said. ‘Keep looking at me. Isabelle, you can manage this climb. You’re quite safe.’

‘Please don’t let me fall,’ I whispered.

‘I won’t,’ he said. ‘But you don’t need me. There are plenty of strong ropes here to hold on to.’

I kept my eyes on him, mesmerized by his closeness. I could see all the tiny flaws in his skin; a nick where he’d cut himself shaving; the fading bruise on his right cheek where I’d hit him. It took my mind off the dizzying drop beneath me.

‘Can you climb again now?’ asked Will. His voice sounded as though it were coming from a long way away, not right in my ear. ‘We’re nearly there.’

I nodded, and broke eye-contact, looking up as far as the next rope. Will released me, and slowly, painfully, I began to climb again. I was shaking like a leaf in a storm now, which made it much harder. I had to stop and rest between each step, breathing deeply, trying to calm my fears. The ship swayed, each motion magnified a hundredfold up in the high rigging.

‘Just make sure you don’t look down again, and you’ll be fine,’ said Will encouragingly. I nodded, but still couldn’t speak.

After an eternity, we reached the look-out. It was little more than a rough wooden seat attached to the mast with ropes to hold on to. I climbed into it and clung tight. Will hung in the ropes at my side, apparently quite at his ease so far above the deck. When I glanced at him, he grinned. I sat on the swaying platform and closed my eyes, wishing I was safely down again. I was already dreading the descent.

The breeze was freshening, and I could feel the mast we were attached to swinging one way and then another as
The Invisible
dipped in the growing swell.

‘I must have been mad,’ I said wonderingly, opening my eyes. ‘What on earth made me attempt such a climb? What were you thinking of, encouraging me?’

Will chuckled. ‘You have a spirit of adventure and daring hidden somewhere inside you,’ he said. ‘Though you hide it even from yourself. I was trying to help it emerge.’

‘You’re entirely wrong,’ I assured him. ‘I have no sense of adventure whatsoever. All I want is a quiet life. I wouldn’t mind if I never experienced anything exciting ever again.’

‘You cannot possibly be that hen-hearted,’ said Will. ‘I refuse to believe it. Just look how much you enjoyed our trek across the heath and the escape from that cottage.’

I sent him a look of dislike. ‘You know perfectly well I hated every moment of it,’ I told him, reproachfully. ‘You treated me abominably. Why?’

‘Perhaps I had reasons of my own that were not entirely fair to you. But have you asked yourself why you behaved so badly yourself? And wondered whether that affected my treatment of you?’

Instead of snapping back an indignant denial, I pondered my memories of the walk. ‘I was out of my depth, out of everything I’ve ever known,’ I said slowly. ‘I have been since I came aboard. I’ve found it difficult to … ’

‘Not behave like a spoiled beauty?’ asked Will.

I scowled at him, but he was smiling and there was no malice in it. ‘Come let’s have peace and agree to make a new start,’ he said, holding out his hand.

I peeled my fingers, numb with gripping so tightly, off the rope and grasped his hand. I remembered what Jacob had said about winning the men’s trust.

The shaking was subsiding now and I was feeling less unwell. ‘What happened to me?’ I asked. ‘I was fine and then suddenly … ’

‘Vertigo,’ said Will. ‘Some people get it, some don’t. Most would during a first climb this high. I did tell you not to look down.’

I shuddered at the memory. ‘You didn’t think it worthwhile to mention that to me beforehand?’ I asked.

‘It might have put you off and that would have been a pity.’

I rolled my eyes.

‘Don’t let me go, Will. Oh please don’t leave me,’ mocked Will in an exaggerated, high-pitched girly imitation.

‘I never said such a thing!’

‘Oh yes you did! And clung to me in a most affecting way. I’d no idea you had such feelings for me.’ Will grinned and his eyes were dancing with mischief.

‘I should never have accepted that handshake,’ I retorted. ‘Would you like a matching bruise on the other cheek?’

‘She’s offering me violence! And after I saved her life too!’

‘What is it about you?’ I asked him seriously. ‘From time to time, I come close to liking you. Only a very little, of course. Not the kind of warm overflowing feelings I can see you are imagining, so don’t flatter yourself! But whenever I think you may have some redeeming characteristics after all, you manage to make me hate you again. A really fierce kind of loathing and repulsion that starts right here,’ I indicated my belly, ‘and spreads all over me. It’s quite a talent you have. I’ve never disliked anyone quite that intensely before.’

‘Oh, you don’t hate me really,’ said Will cheerfully, nudging my foot with his. ‘You’re just pretending to yourself.’