Author's Note: This is the second to last chapter with Eamonn, in case you were wondering.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Sharon had left her surrey at the livery stable, per Eamonn's request. She had arrived not quite an hour ago in town, after dropping off Sean and Tara at the Big House. Priscilla had been understanding about her request, for needing the afternoon. She had referenced Deacon Paul, and then various errands in town.
When she arrived in town she went to the Rectory and met Deacon Paul. He was having issues with a skin rash, and Sharon had offered a cream that might help. They visited for a while, and then she headed out to meet Eamonn.
She hoped she had dressed correctly for the sailing trip. Sharon had decided on a day dress of pale blue polished cotton, with a rounded neckline that covered her collar bone, and long sleeves. The collar, bodice, and cuffs were embordered with pale green scroll work. The dress had no bustle; Sharon was not sure that trying to manage a bustle and a boat – not that she knew how big the boat was – she decided to play it safe.
Her hat was a wide brimmed straw hat, with a blue-ribbon tie. Eamonn had asked her to meet him at a chandler's shop at the wharf. It was a short walk from the Chart House, and as she came closer to the wharves, she smelled the scents of fish and water. It reminded her of the Irish coast.
Eamonn had been waiting for Sharon, being worried that she would decide not to spend the afternoon with him. If that was the case, he would be sad, even as he would have understood. She was a married woman, and her husband had rights and could dictate her actions.
He wished he could get a good read on Heath, and his feelings for Sharon. Eamonn had seen how close he was with Sean and Tara, and he had always been polite and cordial with Sharon. He had done some research on Heath's work on mining reform and admired him; in some ways he was a good man.
Eamon though could not contemplate spending a great deal of time in Heath's company. He wondered again what Heath's and Sharon's interactions were like when they were alone. His thoughts were broken when he saw Sharon coming down the walkway.
Sharon turned the corner and paused, as she saw Eamonn standing in front of the Chandler's shop. He was wearing lightweight brown trousers, with a plain linen shirt, and jacket of a woven brown and cream fabric. She noted how handsome he was, admiring his body before she could help herself.
It came to her that she was treading a very fine line with this afternoon. This was not lunch in a public place, but rather they would be alone in close quarters – it was probably small boat. Their sailing trip could be misconstrued; Heath's admonishment, about no dalliances, weighed on her mind.
However, this was not a dalliance, Sharon told herself, rather just an afternoon with an old friend. She trusted Eamonn completely, and his comment about him leaving Stockton was at the forefront of her thoughts. Who knew when she would see Eamonn again, and she did not want to miss any of his company.
"Is M'Lady interested in sailing the river? I can offer an afternoon cruise complete with refreshments, and a private viewing of some sketches." Eamonn had felt a welling of joy when he saw Sharon coming towards him. He took his hand, and after bowing properly air kissed it.
"Well now I might be, but what can you tell me about the excursion?" Sharon gave him a saucy look, liking how happy he looked. "Just so you are aware I know this very dashing Royal Navy officer – what do you think his thoughts would be on this cruise." She laughed and Eamonn thought it sounded like bells ringing.
"He would totally recommend the cruise! The river views are not to be believed." He declared with a knowing smile, and a gleam in his eye. "I am so glad you came." Eamonn would have taken her in his arms if they were not in a public place. One of the things he always enjoyed about her was how she would keep him on his toes.
"I hoped I dressed appropriately" Sharon smiled at him; the teasing had made her feel more at ease. She was intrigued by the mention of refreshments and seeing his sketches. He took her arm, and they walked down a side street, closer to the river.
"Yes, for this you did." Eamonn gave her an approving glance; he liked how the outfit was unfussy and would protect her complexion. "Just so you know, if this was our house and boat, I would have you wear trousers." He gave her a bold, direct look, as his eyes caressed her body.
"Really?" Sharon was taken aback at his comment at first, and then reconsidered. "Heath's sister and mother ride astride, sometimes with a divided skirt, but often times in pants." She had privately been shocked at how they would ride in public that way.
"When you ride – I hope you ride – what is your preference?" Eamonn had noted how her eyes had widened at the pants comments. He was sure he knew the answer and totally approved.
"Sidesaddle of course. Your mother taught me well." As she made the comment Sharon tossed her head and gave Eamonn a wink.
"Honestly glad to hear!" Eamonn declared, wishing he could see her on horseback. "Just so you know I would have no problems with you wearing pants, but it would be for my eyes only."
Sharon heard the unspoken affection in his voice. His reference to them having their own house and boat tugged at her heartstrings. Her wish that their lives had been different resonated with her. She then saw Sean and Tara in her mind. It was because of her life circumstances that she had her children; the idea of them not being in her life made her heart hurt. No, she told herself, everything had worked out for the best.
As Eamonn escorted her down the street, and then turned on a side street that led them to a private wharf. There were three boats tied up; one with a cabin and what looked like fishing equipment on it, while another was a small rowboat. The third boat was a sailing craft – Sharon noted the larger sail, along with a smaller sail on the main post.
Eamonn led her to the third boat, describing its features. She understood that the post was called a mast; further he talked about the low profile of ship, and something called a keel, that was below the water. In truth she was just enjoying how exuberant Eamonn was. Sharon recalled all those years ago, in the folly, when he talked about sailing. Seeing him so happy made her glad.
"Let me help you down- just so you know the craft will move but I will steady you." Eamonn offered, after he had almost jumped into the vessel. She had noted that he had removed his jacket, and rolled up his sleeves, calling attention to his well-muscled body. Sharon watched as he checked the rope and sails; he had told her it was called rigging.
Sharon let him help her into the craft, and she took a deep breath as she settled her skirt. Suddenly a wave pushed against the craft which caused it to roll slightly to the side. She grasped the sides of the vessel, as she experienced a flashback of the ship from Ireland crossing the Atlantic.
"Oh, oh Jesus, please don't let me die! I can't breathe!" Sharon gasped, the memories overwhelming her. "Please take me up to the deck I need fresh air." She was back in the dark, dank cargo area, surrounded by sickness and death. Sharon could not stop herself gasping for air.
He looked at her, noting how pale she was, and her pupils were so dilated her eyes looked black. Eamonn moved to take her in his arms, pulling her close to him. Sharon let go of the sides of the boat and clung to him tightly.
"Please take a deep breath, and I will take one with you. He felt take a deep breath. After their second breath he managed a few words of endearment in Gaelic.
Sharon, as she breathed, came back to the present. Eamonn holding her, his physical presence letting her know that she was safe, calmed her down. Being in his arms, and the whispered words made her forget everything. They stayed like that for a bit, then she pulled back, and sat up. She felt embarrassed at her reaction to the wave. She said as much to Eamonn, feeling bad that she had ruined the afternoon. In truth she had never thought about the voyage until now.
"We do not have to go sailing! Would you like a stroll in the park?" Eamonn offered, and Sharon saw how concerned he was about her. She remembered how excited he had been about taking her sailing. The thought that he was willing to pass on the afternoon, to make her feel better, made her realize how much he cared for her.
"The ship we came over on from Ireland was not designed for passengers, it was a hard voyage." Sharon offered, as she reached over to hold his hands. It was the first time she had talked about the passage to anyone. "I want to go sailing with you, to replace a sad memory with a better one." She sat up straight and gave him an encouraging smile.
"Why do we not sit on the boat, and you tell me about the voyage. It will give you the chance to feel comfortable as we talk." Eamonn offered and noted how Sharon relaxed. As he made the comment, he passed his flask to her; she took it pausing to note the family crest engraved on it. Sharon took several sips, enjoying how smooth the Irish whiskey was.
"It has been a while since I have had Irish whiskey." She said, as she passed the flask back to him. "That is very good quality."
"Maybe whiskey is like tea – you have to know where to procure it from." Eamonn took a sip, enjoying the idea that her lips had touched the rim. "Just so you know, I could reciprocate the favor of the tea, and give you a bottle. I keep a supply on hand. Now, tell me about the voyage." He thought about taking her in his arms again, but decided against it, not trusting himself.
"We were in the cargo hold" Sharon told him about the cots, the smell, sickness, and death. "The ship almost capsized twice because the storms were so bad. My uncle Jimmy lost his wife and baby on the voyage." She told him about landing in Boston, and the way they were treated. As she finished the story, she found herself almost sagging.
"You are an incredibly brave woman!" Eamonn raised her hands up to his lips and kissed them, going on "knowing what you know now, would you do it again?"
"Yes, I would. If I had stayed in Ireland, I would have always been a servant. It was hard to say goodbye to your family, and everything I knew, but I needed to do it." Sharon declared with conviction, knowing in her heart it had been the right thing to do.
"I seem to recall, a certain afternoon in the library, where I told you that the Lord had good things in store for you, which did not include service." Eamonn smiled fondly. "I am so glad to know that I was right! Now what you say we cast off – that is a navy term – and enjoy the cruise?" He decided it would be good to get going, before he took her in his arms again.
"Yes please; I seem to remember a promise of river views, refreshments, and some sketches?" Sharon let go of his hands and settled herself on the bench opposite him. "Was your flask the refreshments?" Sharon asked with a teasing voice, wanting to lighten the mood. It was so easy and enjoyable to be physically close to him.
"No, the flask was a bonus. I have these small sandwiches made with biscuits – the hotel told us they were from the southern region of America – lovely beyond words. I am planning on getting the recipe; anyway, they have ham with honey and butter on them. There is also some lemonade for us."
"Biscuits are amazing. My housekeeper is from the south, and she makes the fluffiest biscuits." Sharon was trying not to giggle at Eamonn trying to explain American food. "Just so you know, when you bring me that fine bottle of Irish whiskey, I will have the biscuit recipe. Violet, my housekeeper, taught me how to make them." She tilted her chin and gave him a rakish look.
"Really now! Not only are you beautiful, intelligent, and kind, but you can cook also? Is there anything you can't do?" Eamonn was in truth not surprised at that – Sharon had always been hardworking, resourceful, and clever. After he made the comment he adjusted the sail, and adjusted the boom, explaining what he was doing.
"Sailing! This all so new and wonderous." Sharon enjoyed watching the riverbank go by. It came to her that in spite of all the land the Barkley's owned they did not have any riverfront property. It made her curious as to why, and she decided to ask Victoria at some future date.
The next hour was spent going back and forth across the river – Eamonn called it tacking – and explained it was a way to take advantage of the wind currents. They glided into a small inlet on the river, which was quiet and peaceful. There was a large tree with wax-like leaves, and large white blossoms that smelled wonderful.
"My mother-in-law has magnolias in her garden. She has promised me a cutting this fall." Sharon was in awe of how perfect this spot was – calm water, lovely scents, indirect sun – she could hear bees buzzing in the wildflowers along the bank. "This place is perfect."
"I did not know about the magnolia trees, but I will confess that I did do a test run of the trip." Eamonn offered, being pleased that she was so happy. "Just so you know, in the Royal Navy we leave nothing to chance." He added with pride.
"That explains how Britannica rules the waves." Sharon laughed, giving him an admiring look. "And here I thought it was all about your well-tailored uniforms." Eamonn was so fun to tease and joke with, taking everything in a lighthearted way.
"Actually, it is more our weaponry, and resources, but we do know how to look good." He winked as he made the comment.
"I have noticed. I want to try these biscuits." Sharon had had breakfast with the children; Heath had left much earlier to head to the east range. Eamonn opened the basket that was sitting in the far corner of the boat.
He spread a cloth out that had been covering the basket, and laid out two plates, along with napkins and silverware. In a separate container were the sandwiches, and a canteen of lemonade.
"This was delicious – thank you so much." Sharon declared, as they finished eating everything. "I seem to recall you saying something about sketches? Are they from your recent cruise?"
"I go through sketchbooks rapidly on cruises. The one I brought is from my Australia and Singapore tour." Eamonn pulled the book out from the bow and showed it to Sharon. He moved over on the bench, and indicated for Sharon to join him, which she did happily.
Sharon was entranced with the sketches from Australia that showed beautiful white sand beaches. He had also sketched the native plants, and animals that he called Koalas. They had eucalyptus bushes, which Eamonn said smelled wonderful. She loved the scene of the port, and his ship at anchorage in Sydney harbor.
The next pictures were the straights of Malaysia and Singapore. His sketches showed both the wild beauty of the countryside, and the grandeur of the English settlement. On one page he had a colony of monkeys frockling in the grounds of an imposing colonial house with the British flag flying outside. The grand structure could be seen in the background, even as the rest of the picture was an irreverent joke.
"Curious – did you not like the monkeys or the Governor General?" Sharon asked with interest and was pleased to see him taken aback.
"How do you know it is the house of the Governor General?" Eamonn asked cautiously, even as he wanted to laugh at her question.
"The house is large and flying the British flag. Only India has a viceroy – all the other crown colonies have Governor-General's. I learned that in the school room."
"Just between us, the monkeys would have given the man a run for his money." Eamonn rolled his eyes, and appreciated how she had understood what he was not saying. It came to him – yet again – what a great navy wife she would have been.
His thoughts were interrupted, as she turned the pages of the sketch book, and came to one picture. Eamonn had forgotten that sketch was in the book, and he froze, trying to think of what to say.
Sharon had finished looking at a harbor scene with boats that had crescent type sails. In the background she could see a rising settlement of houses overlooking the water. The next picture gave her pause – it was of an oriental woman. There was a silk screen in the background, and she was sitting on a mat made of woven material. Her dark hair was loose around her body, while her robe – Sharon guessed it was a robe – had fallen off her body. She noted the lovely figure, the woman's sweet expression, and how beautiful she was.
"Oh, sorry, I need to explain." Eamonn had forgotten about that sketch. Mei Ling had been a diversion – a man had needs. He was always careful, and upfront with the women he spent time with.
"Eamonn, I am not some naïve young girl. I have been married twice, and I know about men." Sharon was touched at how concerned he was. "You are a very eligible bachelor, and well liked, I am sure. She is very beautiful." There was a part of Sharon who wished Eamonn could sketch her that way, but she knew it could never be.
"So you are not going to throw me out of the boat, or lecture me?" Eamonn was relieved. He had always been able to be honest with her, and liked how it was still true. They had understood each other, and the world they lived in.
"As if! Clearly you have good taste, and I think we can be done with this conservation?" Sharon knew that a gentleman did not kiss and tell, and Eamonn was certainly entitled to find companionship. There were several more sketches of birds and animals. Once she finished looking at the sketch book, Eamon said they needed to head back.
"I have to ask; would you write to me? And could I write to you?" Eamonn had not realized how much he missed Sharon, until he was back in her company. This afternoon had only confirmed, in his mind, their feelings and relationship. He was sure it was the same for her.
"Absolutely, having your friendship has been so special. I certainly do not want to lose it." Sharon said wholeheartedly, as she reached her hand over, and took his in a clasp. Sitting next to him was so wonderful – she could feel his body heat, and caught faint whiffs of his aftershave, which stirred her on a deep physical level.
"I assume that to get going you need to do something with the sail?" Sharon indicated the mast, then said "can you help me to the other bench?" She had decided that putting distance between them was for best.
Eamonn looked at her knowingly, understanding what she was doing. Her body against his had always stirred him in a way that no other woman ever did. The trip back was faster, with Eamonn explaining the currents. She had come to see how intelligent he was, about weather and science. Sharon had made the comment and he had laughed.
When they arrived at the wharf, he took care of the boat, and then escorted her back to the chandler's shop. It was just a little after four o'clock, and the street was busy. Eamonn knew she would be safe walking back to the livery but planned on following her at a suitable distance. He said as much to her and saw appreciation in her eyes.
"I will plan on riding out the day after next, to say goodbye. I will send you a note, so you know to expect me." Eamonn offered, as he kissed her hand. She looked so beautiful, and he had to fight an urge to invite her back to his hotel room.
"The biscuit recipe will be written up, but until I see the bottle of Irish whiskey it will not be forthcoming." Sharon gave him a saucy look, enjoying the bold audacious way he was looking at her. It was like he was undressing her with his eyes, and she was not upset in the least.
"So noted M'Lady." Eamonn took his hat off and bowed, struggling to keep his emotions in control. She smiled in return and turned walking back to the livery.
It took a great deal of resolve not to look back at him, even as she knew he was there. When she arrived at the livery, Sharon caught of glimpse of Eamonn out of the corner of her eye. He was catty-corner to the establishment, with the late afternoon shadows helping to hide his presence.
Once she had picked up the surrey she drove out of the yard, giving him a discrete nod of his head. She made it out to the Big House just as tea was finishing up. Victoria, and Priscilla, along with the all the children were having tea in the garden.
On the short drive to the house Sean and Tara had told her about their afternoon, including a ride with Grandmother Victoria, Simon, and Thomas Henry. Tara had been excited because there was a new pony – a small palomino that would be Thomas Henry's.
Uncle Duke, which is what all the children called Duke McColl, had asked Tara to ride the pony, to make sure he was suitable. Simon and Sean were not upset, because they both knew that Tara had a better seat and hands than they did.
They arrived at the house, and Sharon drove around to the barn. She saw Heath ride up, and Sean and Tara jumped down and went running up to him. Sharon smiled happily as he greeted the children with hugs. She knew that she would never have the type of relationship with Heath that she had with Eamonn, but would not change anything. Marrying Heath had been the correct decision for her children.
"Papa we had lunch at the Big House, and then went riding with Grandmother Victoria, Simon and Thomas Henry." Tara told about the afternoon, and the cake that Silas had made for tea.
"That sounds like a good afternoon. Sean did you eat all the cake?" Heath ruffled the boy's hair and laughed. He then turned to look at Sharon "were you in town?" She had not said anything, but then remembered he had left the house early.