rum.
"I do not have a head for strong spirits, Captain, and if I'm needed during the night it is best I have my wits about me."
He grunted an assent, but went ahead and poured himself more rum. Her eye was caught by a glint of silver on the shelf next to him as she followed the movement of his arm.
"Is that your betrothed, Captain Fletcher?"
It was the framed miniature of the young woman, and Fletcher reached for it and passed it over to Charley.
"A swan," she murmured.
"Miss Sarah Dixon," Captain Fletcher added, frowning down at the portrait when Charley passed it back to him. He drank some more.
"When are you to be wed?
"We have not set a date. We are not officially betrothed, because Miss Dixon wished to wait until I returned from my voyages. I cannot fault her. She is a popular young miss, and no doubt is enjoying her flirtations and friendships."
Charley's eyebrows rose. This did not sound like a love match to her, but these two beautiful people appeared made for one another like matched bookends.
"But enough about my life," Fletcher said, and refilled his cup. "Tell me about Charley Alcott--who is he, and what does he want?"
"I want to go to Jamaica," Charley said briskly. The captain's eyes were brighter, his movements looser as the rum took hold of him, and she wondered if she should excuse herself. However, he was not being aggressive or loud, and he seemed genuinely interested in her--or rather, Mr. Charles Alcott.
"Now, Charley, you are not being open to all the possibilities. A young man such as yourself could do very well in the United States! There are fine physicians there you can apprentice to, and you could settle in a better climate than Jamaica. Has no one told you how unhealthy life in the West Indies can be?"
"Thank you, Captain, for your concern. Yes, I know the Indies can be dangerous--fevers and poisonous snakes are just two of the dangers I've been warned of--but it is where I wish to go. It is part of Britain, and that makes it part of my home. The United States is an interesting experiment, but it will not last. Even now you are facing the might of the world's finest navy. I would not bet money on America in this horse race."
"Really?" Captain Fletcher grew very still, and Charley wondered if she'd said too much, antagonizing her captor again. She needed to learn how to keep her opinions to herself or she might find herself clapped in irons. On the other hand, if he found her opinions obnoxious enough, he might let her go. Or kill her. At the moment both options seemed possible.
But he just smiled and took a drink.
"'Free trade and sailors' rights!' That is the rallying cry of America for a reason, Doctor. We will not bow to tyranny, and we have a navy that's vigorous and prepared to take on all enemies of freedom. We did not yield to Barbary pirates or the French when they encroached on us, and we will not yield to Britain."
"Nonetheless, Captain, England is my home and my country. Perhaps I will emigrate to Canada after I study with Dr. Wilson in Jamaica, if I seek a better climate."
Captain Fletcher shook his head.
"You have no idea what a frozen wasteland Canada can be, Doctor. You think you have experienced winters in England, but I assure you, they are nothing like the winters north of the United States! No, you would be far better off seeking a more moderate climate, like that of Maryland."
"Is that your home?"
"Aye. Baltimore, Maryland. Finest seaport in the United States and home of the best crabs you ever ate."
"You miss it, don't you?"
"It is an odd thing, Doctor. When I am at sea, I miss Baltimore. When I am in Baltimore, I miss being at sea." He shrugged, and grinned at her again.
He looked younger this evening. The rum combined with his relaxed attitude took some of the tension out of his frame, and his frequent smiles contributed to his attractiveness. It would be easy to stay here, looking at Handsome Davy, sharing this moment between shipmates. Too easy.
"I do not have a head for strong spirits, Captain, and if I'm needed during the night it is best I have my wits about me."
He grunted an assent, but went ahead and poured himself more rum. Her eye was caught by a glint of silver on the shelf next to him as she followed the movement of his arm.
"Is that your betrothed, Captain Fletcher?"
It was the framed miniature of the young woman, and Fletcher reached for it and passed it over to Charley.
"A swan," she murmured.
"Miss Sarah Dixon," Captain Fletcher added, frowning down at the portrait when Charley passed it back to him. He drank some more.
"When are you to be wed?
"We have not set a date. We are not officially betrothed, because Miss Dixon wished to wait until I returned from my voyages. I cannot fault her. She is a popular young miss, and no doubt is enjoying her flirtations and friendships."
Charley's eyebrows rose. This did not sound like a love match to her, but these two beautiful people appeared made for one another like matched bookends.
"But enough about my life," Fletcher said, and refilled his cup. "Tell me about Charley Alcott--who is he, and what does he want?"
"I want to go to Jamaica," Charley said briskly. The captain's eyes were brighter, his movements looser as the rum took hold of him, and she wondered if she should excuse herself. However, he was not being aggressive or loud, and he seemed genuinely interested in her--or rather, Mr. Charles Alcott.
"Now, Charley, you are not being open to all the possibilities. A young man such as yourself could do very well in the United States! There are fine physicians there you can apprentice to, and you could settle in a better climate than Jamaica. Has no one told you how unhealthy life in the West Indies can be?"
"Thank you, Captain, for your concern. Yes, I know the Indies can be dangerous--fevers and poisonous snakes are just two of the dangers I've been warned of--but it is where I wish to go. It is part of Britain, and that makes it part of my home. The United States is an interesting experiment, but it will not last. Even now you are facing the might of the world's finest navy. I would not bet money on America in this horse race."
"Really?" Captain Fletcher grew very still, and Charley wondered if she'd said too much, antagonizing her captor again. She needed to learn how to keep her opinions to herself or she might find herself clapped in irons. On the other hand, if he found her opinions obnoxious enough, he might let her go. Or kill her. At the moment both options seemed possible.
But he just smiled and took a drink.
"'Free trade and sailors' rights!' That is the rallying cry of America for a reason, Doctor. We will not bow to tyranny, and we have a navy that's vigorous and prepared to take on all enemies of freedom. We did not yield to Barbary pirates or the French when they encroached on us, and we will not yield to Britain."
"Nonetheless, Captain, England is my home and my country. Perhaps I will emigrate to Canada after I study with Dr. Wilson in Jamaica, if I seek a better climate."
Captain Fletcher shook his head.
"You have no idea what a frozen wasteland Canada can be, Doctor. You think you have experienced winters in England, but I assure you, they are nothing like the winters north of the United States! No, you would be far better off seeking a more moderate climate, like that of Maryland."
"Is that your home?"
"Aye. Baltimore, Maryland. Finest seaport in the United States and home of the best crabs you ever ate."
"You miss it, don't you?"
"It is an odd thing, Doctor. When I am at sea, I miss Baltimore. When I am in Baltimore, I miss being at sea." He shrugged, and grinned at her again.
He looked younger this evening. The rum combined with his relaxed attitude took some of the tension out of his frame, and his frequent smiles contributed to his attractiveness. It would be easy to stay here, looking at Handsome Davy, sharing this moment between shipmates. Too easy.
Similar Books
