A/N: Sorry that it has been so long (Happy New Year!), I just wanted to get this chapter right as it is the first one which will not be from Sophie's point of view. Mock exams are currently happening so don't hold your breath.
Spying, Suspicion and Secrets.
The skies had grown dull since yesterday. Where once there had been clear sky and pure blue there was now just deep grey as if even the heavens were mourning the lack of someone who should have been strolling along the deck. Jack shook his head and stopped his idle staring into the distance. Surveying his vessel he saw two forms, the shorter imitating the taller. Mr Calamy was stood very still, a spyglass in one hand and the other balled up in a fist. Even from behind Jack could see the hard lines set into his frame. He was evidently brooding about Miss Carson-Beaumier. Mr Blakeney turned upon hearing his captain draw closer, the young midshipman was more serious than Aubrey had ever seen him in his life. The older did not turn but politely muttered "sir." It saddened the captain to see Peter like this, his family history had obviously not stopped the pair from getting close, perhaps too close. It wouldn't do for his lieutenant to be depressed the whole way home or worse; happily in love. At first Jack had thought the young man was just glad to have someone his age on the ship who didn't look up to him or give him orders, after a few weeks of noticing how Mr Calamy stared after her he had deduced the truth; his lieutenant was pining for a lady. Of course that was if she was a lady, he knew the kind of people who were employed for spy work. People who would do anything for money, girls from brothels and a like. That was not the impression he got from Sophie, but all the same he was not comfortable with a strange, possibly damaged, woman being courted by one of his officers. However, he would have preferred for her to not have been poisoned, he found that she was intelligent and courageous but stubborn and too self reliant for a respectable woman.
"May I?" He held out his hand for the spyglass and Peter stepped back. Aubrey looked into his face and saw years added, he had bags under his eyes and a frown that looked like it had been carved out of stone.
"Mr Calamy, I relive you of the watch." He said jovially with more gusto than the situation deserved.
"Thank you sir." came the young man's flat and lifeless reply.
"Get some sleep Calamy." He instructed as the young man touched his cap and walked off without a word. He sighed knowing that even now his lieutenant was walking to the sickbay. Ruffling Mr Blakeney's hair he returned to the spyglass.
Will was constantly being told to be serious and not to treat his duties like little games he used to play with his friends in England. Today he found this very easy. No mater how hard he tried the young midshipman could not find anything to be happy about, there was nothing that could bring a smile to his face, although earlier Will had looked less sad because there was no sign of the Acheron, but Peter had seen and it just made him look even more angry and sullen. Now the captain was at his side instead of his friend, Will knew that Mr Calamy was just going to sit by Sophie and look morosely at her pale face. Peter often did when he was free and only left when he was ordered by Doctor Maturin because he needed sleep or it was his turn on watch. Since three days ago the watch had been doubled, officers were on duty almost all the time and each senior member of the crew was carrying a loaded pistol as Captain Aubrey was not taking any chances. Nobody was any the wiser as to who had attacked Miss Carson-Beaumier but such an open attempt on her life was taken very gravely by everyone, particularly Will who now counted himself as a close friend of the aforementioned victim. The normal hustle and bustle continued as it always had and always would, despite the heavy hearts of so many on board. Will could not help but eye each and every person suspiciously and his heart was constantly thumping. He knew, as did everyone, that there was a poisoner and murderer in their midst and it put everyone on edge including the captain who was tentatively tapping his foot and scanning the horizon. Even though Will was only young he understood; an enemy in plain sight, be it a French man of war or not, was much less terrifying than one that stood in the shadows and fought with poisons.
It was not the first time that Peter had felt so utterly useless, now there was nothing he could do to help the doctor, just as there had been nothing he could do when his father had been forced to leave. The irony was not lost on him. He was desperate to help the very person who had caused such ruin to his family. If Mr Calamy hadn't been so stoic a person a hysteric laugh may have escaped him. He viewed the ship in a very detached way, as if he was dreaming the small, wooden world around him and now he seemed to see how precarious their existence was. One outbreak of illness could decimate the crew, one run in with an enemy vessel and they could be blasted to smithereens, one death could destroy his life too. He continued his morbid thoughts until he reached the infirmary. He was both repulsed and drawn to the lightly breathing woman lying in a hammock. He swallowed as he regarded the dark stain blossoming out from the cut at her side. It was dark, darker than blood should be and was slowly seeping along the bandage and into the already crimson dress. Peter thought that it was a shame the dress had been ruined as it suited her well, it accentuated the auburn in her hair and was flattering to her figure... he realized what he was thinking and shook the thoughts out of his head. Sophie was pale, too pale and her face would seem relaxed to someone who hadn't looked too closely. Peter did nothing half heartedly and of course was, at that moment, intently studying every inch of her face. He recognised that she was in pain but also that if doctor Maturin gave her any more laudanum she would have ingested a dangerous amount and so said nothing to the man who was reading some botanical papers at the other end of the room. Every few minutes Maturin would look back over at the woman and then return to his notes with a dark look on his face and pity in his eyes. Peter returned to brooding whilst holding Sophie's cold, lifeless hand between both of his. He closed his tired eyes and simply hoped that she would recover, there was nothing more he could do. Peter was not especially religious, he hadn't properly prayed that week (which would infuriate his mother who was devoutly protestant), but he found himself beseeching God to give the woman strength enough to survive, to fight, maybe even to beat the daemons that stalked her dreams, and, though he could not admit it, he prayed that she would open her eyes and love.
He prayed that she would love him.
A/N: I hope you all found this an awww chapter and that you enjoyed my third person writing, it's different to how I normally write but it was fun to see it from different character's perspectives. I know that this is short but it would ruin the ending to write from say Maturin's point of view after that last line (again awww!) and I'll be returning to Sophie's point of view next time anyway. Please please please review (I will love you forever!) and private messages are always welcome.