Chapter 13

"I may be in the middle of a mighty squall with a rapidly sinking ship," Daniel sighed as he paced in the kitchen.

"Hmmm?" Martha hummed. She was cooking dinner and hardly listening to him.

"Carolyn," he explained. "She accosted me and demanded an explanation yesterday."

"Oh…" Martha nodded, still not really paying much attention.

"I lied…dear heavens, I've lied more over this one matter than I ever did in life! I couldn't rest last night at all, I despise lying to her. I did not anticipate that it would be this blasted difficult."

"Lied…about what?"

"Martha, you are not listening at all," he sighed.

"What…oh no, I am, I'm listening," she assured him and turned to find him staring at her. "So you lied, again. You should be getting quite good at it by now," she remarked.

"This is not a laughing matter," he scolded her.

"Who's laughing?" she shrugged. "What'd you tell her?" she asked after a moment.

"That my spectral peers have certain rules and interests when one spirit forms an attachment to a mortal. Not entirely untrue, but now she believes that I am being reprimanded for it and being called away frequently."

"And you're not in trouble?"

"Not in the least. They are curious busy bodies but they cannot reprimand me. My affairs are my own. Unless I draw unnecessary attention to the spectral community, I may do as I please."

"Ohhh," she chortled. "You are in trouble. Maybe not with any ghost but you certainly will be with her when she finds out."

"Yes, I am aware. I did not intend…"

"Men," Martha grumbled. "You're all the same, alive or dead. What women want is honesty…"

"These are hardly normal circumstances," he said, quickly. "And I am doing this for the both of us…"

"Either way, you've got yourself into a whole lot of trouble…and me, too, I'm covering for you!"

"I cannot be entirely sure, of course, but I am fairly certain that she believed me. I sensed no animosity last night when we talked. I don't believe that I am entirely forgiven, but…"

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if she's still suspicious," Martha said. "She's not stupid, you know and she's had enough experience with lying men, like her husband for one, to know one when she sees one," she explained.

"Blast," he grumbled again and paced around the room. He crossed his arms and held one hand to his beard in agitation. "Confound it all, I never intended for this drive a wedge between us," he said.

"Oh, it's done that alright."

"Not at all helpful, Martha," he stared at her for a moment.

"I didn't know I was meant to be 'helpful'. This was your idea. I was bribed into being part of it," she held up her hands.

"I hardly forced you into keeping my secret. And you agreed with me at the time that unless I can master this ability, then there is little point in promising any sort of future to them."

"I'd say you've already done that, like it or not. I don't know how they'd cope if you just up'ed and left for good. No, you're stuck with them and with me for a long time, promise or no promise," Martha told him.

"Yes…and all I've done is upset them."

"You'll have to fix it and soon. The tension between you two is so thick I could cut it with a knife and serve it up for lunch and save myself the trouble of having to cook something."

"And what do you propose that I do to 'fix it'?"

"Me?" Martha exclaimed. "Well, I don't know. It's not my mess, is it?"

The Captain gave an exasperated sigh and began pacing again.

"And will you stop that? You'll march a hole right through the floor and we don't need any more repair bills," she snapped. "If you want to set things right, there's an easy enough way of doing it without damaging the kitchen," she said.

"And what is that?"

"Just tell her the truth, for heavens sake! You were wrong to lie about it at all, so just admit it and tell her what it's all been about before you dig yourself into an even deeper hole…err…metaphorically speaking, I mean! She'd understand if you just told her what's really going on. You'll only make it worse for yourself if you keep lying…."

"I do not believe that I am wrong," he interrupted her. "If this is all I can give to her, then I see no reason in giving her cause for further optimism…"

"Maybe not…"

"If I can offer her less than even that even spineless cad Claymore, there seems little point in further pressing my case…"

"Mrs. Muir and Claymore?!" Martha scoffed. "Now you know that about as likely as an artic winter in Florida," she said.

"That's as may be. But he, along with any other man living, could offer her a life which I cannot, as much as it galls me to admit it. I will not offer her what I cannot possibly give, not until I am sure."

"Sounds sensible enough when you say it like that but it's not done you much good so far, has it? And you were counting on her not noticing all your disappearances, weren't you?"

"I confess, I was," he admitted.

"Well, it backfired," she said, bluntly.

"Indeed. Though at least my control of this ability is vastly improving," he said.

"So, how long now?"

"Let us find out," Daniel said and held out his hand.

"Dinner isn't going to just cook itself, I can't just stand around and…" she sighed and he simply stared at her. "Oh, fine," she sighed and walked over to him. She grabbed hold of his wrist none too gently and he took out a pocket watch from his jacket.

They said nothing, standing there in silence as they both watched the seconds tick by on his old pocket watch.

"Look, if this goes on much longer, dinner won't be worth eating," Martha said once five minutes had passed.

He waved a dismissive hand at the old stove and the spoons in the pans began to stir themselves.

"Show off," she grumbled and they continued to stare at the watch.

"Almost eight minutes…aren't you an overachiever," Martha said, genuinely surprised when her hand finally passed right through his wrist. "Have you been hiding things from me too?" she asked.

"Anything is possible, Martha, if one has sufficient inducement."

"And the stubbornness to boot," she added. "Both as stubborn as a mule the pair of you," she lamented and returned to the stove. "Not going to disappear again, are you?" she turned to ask him.

"No, I don't believe so," he said, thoughtfully, "I feel perfectly fine."

"Then why'd you go all…ghost-like again?" she asked, struggling to find the right word to describe it.

"I could feel the strain on my abilities and though it best not to overtax them and thus force myself to vanish. If I cease the ability before I am completely overtaxed, I need not dematerialise to recharge my powers."

"Yes, we've had enough of your vanishing acts, I think," she said.

"Agreed," the captain nodded. "Well, thank you for your assistance and I shall leave you to dinner," he said and then vanished.

"There he goes again," Martha muttered and rolled her eyes. "I should be the one writing a book in this house with everything that goes on," she scoffed.