Easton's Gold by Paul Butler

understanding.
    â€œBut, my dear…” I say slowly, shaking my head.
    â€œMy lord, who did you see that you thought I could marry?”
    â€œI told you,” I say, “I was only
hoping
to find such a man.”
    â€œWhere, my lord?” She suddenly stands. Sinews stand out in her beautiful neck. “Where were you looking for a gentleman? In the middle of an ocean?”
    â€œWe are going to a new land,” I say quickly. “It is perhaps possible that among the planters there…”
    But Gabrielle has stopped listening. She circles away from the bed and strides to the door, her hands folded over her chest.
    â€œTemper does not become you, my dear,” I say, and immediately I hate the voice I hear. I sound like a petulant old man, and I resent Gabrielle for reducing me to this.
    Gabrielle has turned toward me, her eyes alive with anger.
    â€œYou meant to marry me to the captain.”
    â€œGabrielle! What nonsense! How could you even think of such a thing?”
    â€œYou meant to give me to him in return for the passage.”
    She turns back toward the door, opens it and glances back once more. Her dark eyes fix on me for a second, her expression a combination of pride and reproach. This scalds me far worse than any words she might have chosen.
    She disappears into the corridor beyond the cabin, and I hear her quiet footfalls beyond. I sit still for some while, a throbbing pain in my chest.
    __________
    G ABRIELLE STARES THROUGH THE porthole at the sloshing grey waves. The ship rocks and pitches. Although they still follow the coast, Gabrielle feels lost and unanchored.
The Marquis was my only friend
, the thought comes to her again and again in waves,
and I am going to the other side of the world.
    There is a soft creaking outside her cabin door again. It seems Philippa is back. At first Gabrielle can’t even be bothered to turn to the door.
Let her stand there listening for a hundred days if she wants to.
    Then she tries to imagine what this journey will be like day after day, isolated as she is.
Will I not be begging even for Philippa and Maria to speak to me before long
? She turns slowly and watches the cabin door. There is another creak.
    Gabrielle’s muscles tighten and her breaths grow rapid. She knows she has made up her mind.
    Gabrielle rushes the entrance. It takes only four bounds. She flings open the door, grabs hold of Philippa’s forearm and pulls her inside, shutting the door after her.
    Philippa cowers in front of her, her hands held over her face. Her skin has gone very red and her eyes are huge, like those of a child listening to a story.
    Gabrielle takes half a step toward Philippa, and Philippa dodges to the side. Gabrielle makes another move, and Philippa repeats the evasive action. The same thing happens twice more until Gabrielle feels as though they are a pair of fighting crabs.
    â€œWhy were you outside my door?” she demands, grabbing Philippa by the forearm again.
    â€œI wasn’t,” Philippa gasps, trying to back away from her.
    â€œYou were. You were today and you were yesterday. What are you expecting to find?”
    â€œNothing,” says Philippa, moving toward the door and pulling Gabrielle with her.
    â€œThere must be something. There must be a reason.”
    â€œNo, there isn’t,” Philippa says, twisting her forearm this way and that, trying to loosen Gabrielle’s grip.
    â€œDon’t go,” says Gabrielle, trying not to sound threatening. “Tell me what you were doing there.”
    But Philippa has backed into the door and is reaching behind with her free hand for the handle.
    Gabrielle tries to hold Philippa, but Philippa has the door open and wriggles her forearm like an eel. Gabrielle gives up and lets her go. She catches a final wild stare from Philippa, then she closes her cabin door.
    She hears Philippa clatter up the three-step ladder, turn and run along a corridor then clomp