NOTE: This chapter is for Margaret, who has become rather partial to Captain Beaumont. Purely platonic, of course! But she has asked questions about him which I am now answering. All great fun! HUGS and thanks for your insights!
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Ghosts Of Christmas Present
"She certainly looks trim enough." Daniel stood back to thoughtfully survey what he'd revealed after tossing back the leaf-choked covers from the sailboat.
"Are you sure?" Carolyn regarded the small, bobbing craft dubiously. "I mean, it doesn't look very seaworthy. I wouldn't trust it."
"Oh, no. She's surely trim and as right as a trivet," Seaman Applegate reassured her cheerfully, kneeling beside the craft. "I've made well sure of that. I've taken her out a few times and she's very responsive to the tiller."
For the first time, Daniel regarded the hapless spirit with something close to approval. It baffled and concerned him how suddenly they seemed to be in total accord.
"Aye, she'll handle well enough." He nodded thoughtfully. "But she'll need some cleaning. A shame we can't take her out today. We're out of time."
"If you say she needs work, my Captain, Sir…" Applegate nodded, jumping to his feet. "Happy to be the man to do it for you." He grinned as he saluted haphazardly.
He watched his Captain eagerly, looking like a worried dog who'd finally brought something worthwhile home to his master. He'd found a task that he could accomplish. He waited in trembling anticipation.
Beside them, Mr Peabody was stretched out in a patch of fall sunshine. He yawned widely. With a cat's disdainful expression, he looked utterly dismissive of anything that involved water.
"Careening and making her ship-shape, ready for the spring, would be a good winter pastime for someone…" Daniel mused, stroking his beard as he looked over the boat's elegant lines with a critical eye.
"Mr Peabody and me will see to it, Sir," Applegate reassured him breathlessly, ignoring the cat's sharp glare of dismissal. "We'll have her gleaming in no time at all. You'll see. My word on it!"
"I'm sure you'll do a marvellous job, Elroy," Carolyn reassured him. "What could possibly go wrong?"
"Plenty," Daniel replied shortly, looking his former crewman up and down. "I cannot believe I'm even contemplating allowing you to stay here. But it seems we do stand in need of a good, honest caretaker to look after the place when we're not here. And since you've already been performing the job satisfactorily…"
He shook his head as he passed a hand over his eyes. "So far…"
Applegate stared at him, seeming lost for words. Tears gathered in his eyes and he sniffed mightily. His mouth opened but nothing came out. His bottom lip began to tremble.
Seeing the evidence of his gathering distress, Carolyn hurried to say, "And I'm sure Elroy won't ask to be paid for his services. Not a single penny. All he wants is a secure roof over his head."
She glanced down at the cat. "And for Mr Peabody."
"Oh, no, Sir and Lady…" Applegate breathed, recovering himself. "Just being here to be of use to the two of you will be good enough for me. I won't let you down."
He turned to Daniel, swiping a haphazard cross on his chest with one hand. "Cross my heart and hope to die, Sir."
"Well, you got that part right…" Daniel huffed his chagrin. "I cannot find it in me to object. Much as I may wish to."
He fixed the hapless seaman with a critical glare. "I will come by from time to time, just to check on you. I do not expect to find a burned-out shell because you have been careless with the fire or anything else flammable. If I do I will consign you to perdition and let the devil have your blasted soul. Is that clear, Seaman Applegate?"
"As crystal…" Elroy pulled off his tasselled cap, clutching it between his hands in ecstasy. "Oh, yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I'm so happy you're gonna let me stay here and look after the place for you. Both me and Mr Peabody. We'll be as quiet as mice. You won't even know we're here when you're here because it won't look like we're here at all." He grinned happily.
"If you agree follow my orders to the very letter," Daniel instructed sternly, walking a circle around his erstwhile crewman. "I will consider it on a trial basis only. Come the summer, if you have slacked off in any way then I will wash my hands of you for good. You may have one last chance to prove yourself useful to me."
"Oh, you will not be sorry, Sir!" Applegate beamed with joy.
He snapped another salute, nearly knocking himself over backwards. He began to dance. "You hear that, Mr Peabody? We can stay! We got a house with our very own peoples!"
"I'm already regretting allowing it," Daniel sighed. "Fortunately for you, Mrs Muir's heart is kinder and more sympathetic than mine. You should be thanking her, not me."
The seaman's watering eyes turned to Carolyn. "Oh, thank you, my Captain's pretty lady! You are a lovely lady. Anyone can see that. I swear I won't let you down."
"Are you crying, Seaman Applegate?" Daniel stopped walking to lean closer in disbelief. "In front of a woman?"
"Who, me, Sir? Oh no, Sir!" Applegate sniffed manfully, swiping his cap across his eyes before pulling it onto his head again. "Ready and waiting to be of service, Sir! Just say the word!"
"You could be nicer to the poor man…" Carolyn whispered to her husband. "He is trying very hard to get on your good side. I think he'd die for you if he wasn't already dead."
"Why should I?" Daniel turned to her. "He's a dolt and a fool. I half expect the place to be burned down come spring. He has the whole of the winter season to do his worst. From experience, I have little faith in his fulsome promises to do better next time. I had three years of them and he kept not one."
"Well, he seems to have managed quite well up until now," Carolyn pointed out reasonably, looking back to the upper cabin where the chimney was smoking nicely. "I have faith in him."
"Good for you," Daniel growled. "I do not."
"I'll make you so proud of me, Sir. You'll see," Applegate reassured him happily. "I'll take care of the camp just like it was my very own. For my peoples."
"That is exactly what I'm afraid of…" Daniel raised his disbelieving eyes skyward, shaking his head in despair.
※※※※※
Three Months Later:
"I never thought that spending time telling you my stories would give me such a thirst," Lucius Beaumont complained, leaning forward in the wheelhouse's rump-sprung armchair to refill his glass from Daniel's Madeira decanter once more. "Why cannot your dear wife be happy with just one story and have done with it? She seems determined to wring me out like a wet sail cloth."
He slanted his friend a narrow-eyed look, where he sat behind his desk. "Or it is that you do not satisfy her, so she must turn to the swashbuckling tales of a real man? Remember the time when we took on that pirate ship off the coast of Jamaica and bloodied their noses?"
He chuckled gleefully as he warmed to his theme. "And we took their treasure. The same treasure you gave up for your wife to buy this house. Now that's the sort of thing a man was supposed to write about!"
He sat back to draw deeply on the excellent cigar his good friend had thoughtfully provided as a required part of his bribe. He blew a series of contented smoke rings into the air, watching Daniel's darkening expression through the fragrant screen without concern.
"Blast your eyes, man," Daniel replied without heat, laying aside his quill pen. "Try to keep a civil tongue in your head and you promised that treasure was to be our secret. You took your share swiftly enough and used it well."
He sat back in his chair as he retrieved his own cigar from the ashtray at his elbow. He tapped the ash from the glowing end before lifting it to his lips. He also drew on it with deep satisfaction.
He sighed. "I'd forgotten how good these are."
Of course, living as he now did now, in an almost exclusively female household, it had been too long since he'd enjoyed a good cigar in such convivial masculine company. He knew he'd missed the soothing nature of the old habit even if the companion could be irritating at times.
He grimaced at his good friend. "And you know better than to ask such private questions of me. Curb your interest in my love life, all is very well. This is simply a business arrangement between us. I have a line-up of eager ghosts, all willing to tell me their stories if you pike."
"Yes, yes, I know, I know…" Lucius chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't go all Captain Blyth on me. I will say your Carolyn does not have the look of a new wife who is unsatisfied in her marriage. I saw her walking in the garden when I arrived and she was smiling that woman's smile of contentment. You must be doing something right."
"Keep your blasted eyes to yourself, is my advice," Daniel told him levelly, pointing his cigar like a warning finger. "Even if the season of goodwill to all men and ghosts will soon be upon us, we still have boundaries in this house and you will keep to them or suffer the consequences."
"Yes, yes, you've already told me…" Lucius nodded as he waved a dismissive hand. "For us all to remain undiscovered by some beaky-nosed, impertinent human, all ghosts are to confine their presence to the wheelhouse unless express permission had been given otherwise."
He shrugged. "I merely observed your wife's soft beauty through yonder window."
He waved a hand toward one of the small attic windows that overlooked the front garden. "You can't blame a man for looking at such a pretty woman. I might've been dead for over a hundred years, but I still have eyes."
He laughed. "But yes, I will behave myself. You always did run a tight and ordered ship. I'll respect that whenever I'm aboard."
"Yes, well, you'd do best to remember it, as well. As to your stories, they are becoming very popular and well read," Daniel told him. "There is a rising cry for more and we will oblige. I thought that was what you wanted. To see them set down in print."
"Well, yes…" Lucius took a long drain on his glass. "But as sappy, romantic fiction for women?" He shook his head as he puffed on his cigar. "God's teeth, I had thought to have more blood, fire and brimstone. A swashbuckling man's book for men to read."
"You're under-rating yourself as always." Daniel finished his cigar before picking up his pen again. "In Carolyn's first book, Captain Joshua Harrington has proven himself to be exceedingly popular with the ladies."
"That name I must object to once again!" Lucius stabbed an outraged finger at him. "'In A Captain's Arms' indeed. The man was a bumbling fool and had no clue what to do with any woman, in his arms or out of them!"
He puffed furiously on his cigar. "You knew how much I hated him when I first told you my story! But you used him anyway. He was wetter than a damp squib and a coward to boot."
He threw his hands wide. "He was no captain and is thankfully no ghost," he grouched with a twist of his lips. "You had your Captain Figg, I had Harrington. The man came near to killing us all, at one point, remember?"
"Yes, I remember. I watched it all unfold from the stern of Figg's ship as he sailed quickly away from the brewing danger. That storm had you in its thrall and no mistake. I don't know how you escaped nearly foundering on the reef. But it was a good name for a romantic hero, I saw no reason to change it," Daniel admitted. "Now it is in print and irretrievable."
"Well, I say you used it deliberately, just to annoy me. I am very aware of the spread of my incognito fame. Just yesterday, I found my own wife sighing over that blasted book! She tried to hide it when I came into the room, but I'd already seen it."
He leaned over to stub out the butt of his cigar. "She marvelled at the hero's name, remembering my disastrous Harrington, but decided it was nothing more than a simple coincidence by the author. She then said she loved me but could wish I was more like him!"
He laughed shortly. "That man had the blasted good fortune to die of extreme old age in his own bed. An undeserved end to a sorry career."
"Oh, Lucius…" Daniel chuckled as he rested his forehead in his upraised hand. "What a cut to the quick…" His shoulders moved. "Maybe you should look to the care of your own wife, before passing intrusive remarks about the health and welfare of mine."
"Yes, well, you can laugh! I tell you I almost blurted out the truth right then and there!" Lucius sighed deeply. "To be compared to a paper cut out of a failed sea captain brought back to dubious life in the pages of a woman's love novel…"
He set his teeth. "The pain of it came near to unmanning me. I could almost feel that damned cannonball ripping through me all over again."
He waved a hand at his side. "I know you keep telling me I have no need to remember the agony of that shot. That I could dismiss it totally and move on. But I keep it around to remind me that I was once a red-blooded man bent on grasping life joyfully with both hands and bending it to my will. I sorely miss those days. At least I knew what to do with any woman I got my arms around."
"I understand. It was the same for me until Carolyn came into my life." Daniel nodded. "Very well, I will promise that in our next book, the hero will have a name you may admire. Or your wife can, at least."
"Well, I say, blast your eyes, my friend…" Lucius replied with feeling, draining his glass before reaching for another refill and a fresh cigar. "All right, remind me. Just where are we in this next story?"
※※※※※
That evening the three Gull Cottage adults lingered at the dinner table, savouring their coffee and port. The children were already in bed, safely out of the way of the thorny discussion that needed to be had.
"Well, what are we going to do about Christmas this year?" Martha finally posed the question that had been avoided for the last few weeks. "We can be thankful your parents were away and our Thanksgiving was quiet. But we can't just go on ignoring the inevitable. The season will be here before you know it."That evening the three Gull Cottage adults lingered at the dinner table, savouring their coffee and port. The children were already in bed, safely out of the way of the thorny discussion that needed to be had.
"Well, what are we going to do about Christmas this year?" Martha finally posed the question that had been avoided for the last few weeks. "We can be thankful your parents were away and our Thanksgiving was quiet. But we can't just go on ignoring the inevitable. The season will be here before you know it."
"I wish I knew how to find the right answer," Carolyn shook her head slowly. "I know we cannot go on avoiding my family forever. It wouldn't be fair to them or us. But what can we tell them?"
"I doubt there is anything we can tell them that they would understand. And Cousin Harriet's last visit cured me of ever willingly associating with any of them again," Daniel replied with conviction.
He grimaced as he placed a hand over hers. "But I do understand they are your parents and they deserve your love and consideration. You should be free to celebrate with them. I will not stand in your way."
"Last Christmas, Captain, with that dream you gave us all, was certainly eventful enough for me," Martha replied, shaking her head as she collected their used dishes into a pile and stood up to carry them to the sink.
"I know it's been over two years since I last celebrated the holiday season with Mother and Father." Carolyn sighed, feeling a tension headache developing. "And they have been very patient. But I can feel them wanting to make some kind of move to visit us again. They love seeing their grandchildren and what better time of the year?"
"Then you must invite them to stay for the holidays," Daniel decided firmly. "This is your house, after all. I shall solve the thorny issue for you both by absenting myself until they have gone. Especially if they arrive with Harriet in tow."
He shook his head. "I would not be responsible for my actions where that interfering busybody is concerned. The Spirit Island camp and the dubious company of Elroy Applegate and his blasted cat holds more appeal if such a thing were possible. There are projects enough to keep us occupied."
"But I don't want that either. Now we are your family, too…" Carolyn put an imploring hand on his arm. "It wouldn't be fair if you weren't here to celebrate this Christmas with us. Candy and Jonathan would be so disappointed if you went away. They love you."
"As I love them. But there would be too many pitfalls, my dear." Daniel shook his head. "Too many dangers of someone slipping up and allowing the truth to escape as it almost did the first time Harriet descended on us, uninvited. Then we would all be well and truly scuppered. Every man and his dog would be nosing their way into our lives. You do remember the trouble we had with that deplorable Paul Wilkie? His ilk would never give up if they uncovered me."
"When you put it like that…" Martha shook her head as she walked back to the table and sat down.
"Yes…" Carolyn nodded miserably. "We can't have a repeat of what that awful man tried to do to us."
Daniel shrugged. "Then, to my mind, it's already settled. I shall make myself scarce and you will invite your parents for Christmas. There will be other Christmases." He tried to keep the sound of disappointment from his tone.
"But there will never be another one like this," Carolyn replied sadly. "Please, let me think about it overnight. Maybe I can come up with something that would work."
"Very well…" Her husband sat back, folding his arms. "But I will not allow you to pull yourself about trying to please everyone and making yourself ill. If I must go away, then go away I will."
※※※※※
The following morning, Carolyn sat alone at the desk in the bedroom, trying to read through the pages of elegant copperplate writing Daniel had set down after his last session with Lucius. But the words swam before her eyes.
She put one hand to her forehead, trying to ease the increasing pain of her tension headache that had not abated overnight. She was no closer to an answer about her parents and she knew Daniel would be expecting one when he came home.
He'd already made up his mind on the difficult subject. If he vanished on her, saying it was for her own good, she would have no way to recall him until he was good and ready to reappear.
Unaware of her rising inner turmoil, her husband had gone with the children to the snowy field outside the town to choose which tree they might like for Christmas. Of course, with Claymore's grudging permission to cut down a single tree on his property.
Daniel knew his great-nephew had just foreclosed on the field when the previous owner's elderly widow could no longer keep up the payments. He'd encouraged Carolyn to telephone him and ask for the tree. Claymore had reluctantly agreed, saying he intended to cut down the rest and sell them over the festive season for a handsome profit.
"Maybe, Claymore does have a heart, after all…" Carolyn looked up, watching the light snow falling past the window. "Bah, humbug…"
She sighed. "If only we could get him to pose as Daniel again. But what point would it serve? We cannot go on forever that way. Not after the last time."
Daniel swore he'd done nothing to his great-nephew beyond reminding him again that he could have a family if he ever decided to participate instead of constantly meddling in affairs that did not concern him. Maybe there was something in that.
"But somehow I doubt Claymore will be able to keep it up for very long…" Carolyn shrugged, turning back to the pages of written work, trying to make sense of them.
She wanted to make their first Christmas together as a family very special. She had yet to find the one gift that would take his breath away.
What exactly did one buy for a super spirit who was also a man? It was a thorny question she was no closer to answering and time was running out. Maybe she should be the one talking to Lucius Beaumont to see if he had any ideas.
"If that was my only issue…" Carolyn propped her chin in her upraised palm.
She knew she should do what was right and pick up the telephone receiver beside her and invite her parents to Gull Cottage. But the whole idea was fraught with unforeseen difficulties. She had no way of knowing what Harriet may have told them about her last, unwelcome visit to the house. About her meeting with Claymore while he was posing as Carolyn's lover, Captain Gregg.
The whole tissue of half-truths and prevarications was balanced precariously. She wished she could tell her parents about Daniel. Introduce them to the man she loved with all her heart and clear her conscience. But how could she explain him and his world that they would believe a word of it?
Her father was such a practical man, not given to flights of fantasy. Banking and the stock market were things he understood and believed in.
And her mother simply wanted what was best for her only child. Carolyn knew secretly marrying a man-ghost was certainly not what Emily Williams had in mind for her daughter's future.
"Owen Mitford…" Carolyn sighed, pulling a discontented face as she visualised her late husband's best friend. The man her parents were sure she agree to marry as soon as she came to her senses. "Oh, I have no idea what to do…"
Her ongoing state of troubling indecision had begun to pull at her, making her feel unwell. If he knew, Daniel was capable of getting out his awful recipe for golden willow bark elixir again in his certainty it was a cure-all. She doubted she could tolerate the smell, let alone the taste of it.
"Men…" She sighed again as she glanced at her copy of the finalised contract with Hanover. It was for six more books.
In the last month, they'd been very busy completing the final draft of "The Ghost of Spirit Island" and it had been polished into the finished manuscript and posted that very morning. That title made the third book of the six Annabelle Grant had been contracted to write.
The second was to be published any day now. Martha had been keeping a close eye on the monthly orders, Lorrie Hammond had been placing down at the General Store. She could happily report rocketing sales and she made very sure the town's ladies were kept informed of the existence of an exciting new author for them to read. No hint of Carolyn's involvement had surfaced so far.
"Life could be so good…" she finally admitted, knowing she could change nothing without throwing her new life into disarray.
She knew she should be content with her life as it was now. She still managed to write a few articles for Feminine View, though the magazine had recently moved on in its requirements.
Carolyn understood she would feel no loss if they decided to no longer publish her work. After the fiasco with Maiden Voyage and her shocking encounter with the truly awful Ellsworth Gordon, she had no intention of submitting any of her current writing, however successful.
Unfortunately, her family was still happily indulging in what they saw as her fantasy of becoming a full-time writer. They were so sure she would wake up one day very soon and admit defeat. She would then return to Philadelphia and settle into being a housewife and mother once more.
"I can't think of a worse fate…" Carolyn shook her head.
But if a single member of her family caught a sniff of her current, runaway success in the world of romantic fiction, they would bring disaster. No matter how much she wished she could tell them. Harriet's outraged attitude had stymied that faint hope.
She glanced again at her contract. At least Hanover understood the need for complete discretion when it came to the actual names of their writers. She had made that very clear from the beginning that her name was to be kept out of all public view.
Heaving another sigh, she went back to massaging her aching temples. Why did everything suddenly feel so wrong when it should seem so right?
Martha appeared in the open doorway, carrying a lunch tray. "Coffee and tuna fish sandwiches," she said, walking to the desk. "You didn't eat any breakfast. You look like you could use some food."
"I really don't think I feel like eating right now either…" Carolyn apologised, passing a hand over her eyes.
"You didn't eat much of last night's dinner," the housekeeper replied, assessing her closely. "And you looked so well when you both came back from your honeymoon trip to the camp. You were positively blooming."
She frowned as she put the tray aside. "I know the issue over what to do about your parents is causing you grief, but are you sure you're not coming down with something?"
"Maybe it's just a head cold..." Carolyn pressed a hand to her warm cheek, wishing the room would stop spinning. "I'll admit I do feel rather tired."
"Well, I say you've been doing far too much since you both got back," Martha stated firmly. "Burning the candle at both ends and staying up 'til all hours. I know it's not a problem for the Captain, but he doesn't need to drive you so hard. It takes a man not to notice when his wife is feeling under the weather."
"He doesn't make me do anything I don't want to," Carolyn defended loyally. "We're just trying to keep ahead of our readers."
"They'll all still be there whether you publish this month or the next," Martha told her, walking around the desk to apply the back of her hand to Carolyn's forehead. "Well, you do feel a little warm. Maybe it's that nasty Virus X come back again. We shouldn't take any chances."
She indicated the telephone on the desk. "Do you want me to phone for the doctor?"
"Thank you, but no," Carolyn replied firmly, frowning at the device. "I'm only tired. Maybe I do need to close my eyes and get some rest."
"Good." Martha stood back, folding her arms. "Then why don't you take the afternoon off and put your feet up? I doubt anyone will mind. You need to make some time to pamper yourself. Christmas will still arrive in its own time."
"The idea is very tempting…" Carolyn looked longingly toward the bed. "But we still have so much to do…"
"Go and get under the covers. I'll see to everything else," Martha ordered, pointing toward the bed. "And if the Captain has anything to say about it when he gets back with the children, he will have to answer to me."
"Are you by any chance, trying to mother me?" Carolyn stood and stretched, doing as she was bid, slipping off her shoes and dress before turning back the covers. "I already have one of those."
"Someone has to," Martha reassured her with a smile. "Now, you lie back and try to get some sleep. I'll keep the rest of them downstairs when they get back. They can help me with a few chores. I like to see a man taking his turn at washing the dishes."
"That's something I would like to see, too…" Carolyn murmured, feeling better as soon as her head hit the pillow.
"Oh, the Captain will be dancing to my tune soon enough," Martha assured her stoutly, tucking in the covers before moving away to close the curtains. "Just like the last time you were not well."
She picked up the lunch tray. "It'll do him good to be taking orders from a woman once in a while and help out. There's always housework that needs doing. I'll keep him on his toes, don't you worry." She left the room quietly, shutting the door behind her.
"You make it sound so easy…" Carolyn turned her cheek against the pillow and drifted toward sleep almost instantly. "I like the sound of dancing with the Captain at Christmas. He does waltz so very beautifully…" she whispered. "That would make such a lovely Christmas present for us both…"
She frowned in her sleep. Behind her closed lids, everything around her suddenly began to shimmer and float…
※※※※※