Chapter 15

After spending most of the day in the surrounding towns running errands, Carolyn returned to Gull Cottage late that night.

"The wanderer returns," the captain drawled. He appeared standing at the foot of the stairs just after she'd closed the front door, quietly behind her.

"Well, hello to you too, Daniel," Carolyn retorted. She dropped her bags and boxes by the old wooden chair, fumbling with the considerable number of them.

"We thought you'd weighed your anchor and jumped ship," he added and she rolled her eyes.

"It took a little longer than I'd thought it would…and there was traffic," Carolyn explained.

She then took careful steps up the staircase so that she didn't disturb anyone else in the house and made her way to her bedroom. Predictably she heard no footsteps behind her but once she opened the bedroom door, she saw him sitting in the chair by the fireplace, which was already lit and burning in the grate.

There was a familiar book resting on the arm of the chair and an empty glass on the small table, suggesting he'd been sat there for some time before she arrived home.

Carolyn took off her jacket and folded it over the back of the chair at the dresser before she sat down.

"And was it a successful venture?" he asked.

"Very successful," she nodded. "The car is fixed…until it decides to throw a fit again. I managed to schedule a plumber to come and fix the washing machine tomorrow and I managed to convince Claymore to pay for it…well, part of it anyway," she shrugged and toed off her heels.

"And how, pray, did you accomplish such a feat?"

"By reminding him that he's turning over a new leaf and that a certain someone would be very unhappy if he suddenly changed his mind," Carolyn replied, dryly. "And if I have to move out because I can't manage the upkeep of his house, then he'd never find another tenant willing to live in a haunted house."

"Blackmail is beneath you, madam," he drawled.

"Not when it comes to the bills it's not," she retorted. "And not when it comes to your blasted nephew, either."

"Touchè," the Captain raised an eyebrow. "You may have enjoyed yourself, galavanting about town and taking to blackmail, but I on the other hand broke no laws, and was forced to console those two poor abandoned children of yours."

"…my what?" Carolyn laughed.

"Aye, indeed, they were inconsolable and they wept enough to fill a schooners hull."

"Now, that may not be monetary blackmail, but it's certainly an attempt at emotional blackmail," she said, sarcastically.

"I, a blackmailer? No, I shall leave that to the females of the world. I, however, was perfectly sincere."

"Uh huh. So…are they asleep? These poor, abandoned children?" she asked.

"Yes, they are," he said. "It was not easily accomplished, either. It took half the night to console those grief stricken children," he said seriously.

"Well, I appreciate your efforts," Carolyn replied shaking her head.

"Such a cavalier attitude," he shook his head.

"I know," Carolyn said, biting back a smile. "I just don't know how I'll possibly get over it."

He shot her an unamused glance but said nothing.

"Well, I'll go and check on my poor, inconsolable children. I'll be right back," she said, grabbing her house coat on the way.

The Captain, meanwhile, picked up his book to occupy himself until she returned.

"You were right," Carolyn announced, returning to her bedroom. "They look absolutely devastated," she clarified when he looked at her, confused. "All tucked up in bed and fast asleep like that. They'll never get over this."

A glass of their usual Madeira floated over to her and she didn't so much as blink as she reached out to take it. "Thank you," she said, taking a sip and sitting down by the fire in the chair opposite his.

"Now you begin to understand just how trying my evening was," he said.

"Oh, I can only imagine," she scoffed. "And you've only had Coleridge to keep you company," she added, recognising the book he was now placing on the arm of his chair.

"Yes, and he's rather a dull conversationalist, despite his literary talents."

"I don't think we can blame him for that; he's been dead for a hundred and thirty years."

"That is no excuse," he replied, dryly.

"Sea charts don't tend to be very talkative, either, I don't suppose," she said, noticing the small stack of his artistic charts resting on her writing desk.

"No, they don't, however they may prove to be useful in other ways," he said.

"How do you mean?" Carolyn asked.

"Well, I have drawn a great deal of them and they are all, of course, accurate."

"Accurate in the last century," she said, dryly.

"Quite," he acquiesced. "If money is such an issue, perhaps you could sell some of them. Some of them are quite old, and even the most recent are rather beautiful. There must be a market for charts, perhaps when you travel to Boston again," he said. "You could claim that a a friend drew them and wishes an intermediary to sell them."

Too stunned for words, Carolyn set down the glass of Madeira and stared across at him for a moment in silence. He simple stared back and said nothing.

"You want me to sell your sea charts?" she managed to clarify.

"I do not want you to, but in lieu of any other alternative it seems the best solution given the…limitations of my situation," he explained.

"I never asked you to help," she said, quietly.

"Yet, I am offering regardless," Daniel said.

"Are you sure? It's very generous of you, and I'm not ungrateful, but…well, I know how much you love those charts and…"

"I can always draw more," he shrugged.

She knew as well as he did that it wasn't an easy offer for him to have made and he certainly wouldn't have done it on a whim. It wasn't easy to consider parting with his beloved sea charts but if it would help Carolyn and the children, then for them, he'd make the sacrifice.

"When one has little need for sleep, there really is an over abundance of time," he continued. "And this is my ship, I should be able to assist in financial matters and it irks me to be of no use whatsoever. If fortune is with us, between your writing exploits and my charts, it may provide more stability for you and the children…Especially as you seem to have an unfortunate relationship with your frequently faulty, modern appliances…"

"Well, I…" she began to protest.

"And I'm hardly an expert in good manners, I realise that, but when one is offered assistance, I believe the typical response is 'thank you'," he said.

"…Thank you," Carolyn said, genuinely touched by his offer. "But…"

"My mind is made up on the subject and I'll hear no more about it," he said, picking up his book again just to prove the point. "Should they prove to be valueless, I've plenty of trinkets hidden about the place you can take," he finished without looking back at her, instead he was focused intently on the open pages.

"Daniel?" Carolyn said.

"Hmmm?" he hummed, still not looking at her.

"Thank you," she told him with a smile of genuine sincerity and love.

"You're welcome," he replied.