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Chapter Thirty-Six

No Time For Confessions

The Carolyn bumped and nudged her way along the stout timbers of Schooner Bay's harbour dock, straining back against her mooring lines. As before, she appeared to detest the confinement but eventually settled against the worn woodwork with a few last creaks and groans of defiance.

Her painted timbers were no longer as pristine, nor her sails as white, as they once had been. She'd settled well into her work, proudly showing her quality and the excellent workmanship of her making.

On board, the little Gull Cottage family were already packed and ready to disembark the moment the gangplank was lowered to the dock. Many willing hands helped to carry their trunks and boxes ashore to the waiting cart Daniel had despatched Malcolm to bring up.

To Carolyn, walking slowly toward the worn planking of the gangway, it almost seemed as if they hadn't been away. Everything looked the same, though the sunshine was now much warmer as the Maine summer had finally begun to heat up.

"It is good to be back." She fanned her warm face beneath her London-bought bonnet, wishing she was already home and could remove some of her confining layers of clothing to be cool.

In the summer, she would often strip off, down to her thin cotton chemise and single underskirt - kicking off her shoes - if she and Daniel were alone and in private. Of course, her husband didn't object to the view of her being near-naked if it was for his eyes only. There was a deliciousness to it that Carolyn treasured, knowing that so many other women did not have such forward-thinking husbands.

Several times last summer, when the mood took him, Daniel had carried two lawn chairs into the welcome shade of their enclosed back garden before fetching them both tall glasses of cold water. Then, he too would strip off his jacket, shirt and boots, leaving only his trousers for bare decency in case they were inadvertently discovered.

Which, to Carolyn's secret delight, had not happened yet. Again, that frisson of illicit freedom shivered up and down her spine.

"We have so little time to be alone…" She closed her eyes as she smiled behind the cover of her hand, glad her warm cheeks could be blamed on the hot summer weather.

Sometimes, if the children were at school, and Martha was away from the house, Carolyn's ongoing list of likes and dislikes was gleefully explored and added to in ways she could never have imagined, not even in her writing. Such happenings would cause a riotous scandal if they were ever committed to print.

There appeared to be no limit to her husband's erotically inventive mind and she followed happily along with his ideas with wide eyes and a shyly sensual smile. He'd once even suggested they could go swimming naked in the ocean waves in the safety of the darkness of a moonless night. He said he'd often done that when he'd lived alone in the house.

Of course, it was something any ordinary seaman would not think twice about doing. But a wife and a mother… Carolyn swallowed tightly against the desire to give in one day and follow his lead into the restless surf.

"If only…" Her whole body warmed as she sighed longingly in the rising heat of the summer's morning.

It all seemed like heaven. And just as unattainable right now when they were confined to the docks and waiting for Daniel to be relieved of his duties. She shook her head as she sat down on the last of their many trunks to wait for the rest of the family to come above deck.

"Home, at last," Martha declared thankfully, climbing up from the hatch and walking across the deck. "I can't wait to put my feet up in my own room. It will be a true blessing."

But she couldn't escape unscathed as she prepared to disembark from the ship. Several of the crew who were following her progress, stepped up to give her a goodly hug and pressed more than one swift kiss to her rosy cheeks as she made her way to Carolyn's side.

She smiled, even as she admonished them all with an upraised forefinger for their overly bold forwardness. "Go on with you all, now. Grown men making such a fuss over a few bowls of stew and some mugs of old coffee. And me, without all my usual things to cook with, around me."

She planted her balled hands on her hips, daring any others to try and cosset her again without her permission. The men grinned, enjoying the light-hearted byplay before the real work of unloading and reloading the ship began.

They were deeply aware of their Captain's stern eye as he paced the bridge, watching and waiting. Daniel's crew knew he wouldn't tolerate any more delays or unfortunate incidents involving errant dogs and stray seamen. He was as eager as they to be gone back to sea and new adventures.

"Ah, lass. If we could get away with keepin' you, we'd be carryin' you back to sea with us," Nathaniel Grimes replied to Martha's comment, getting in a last, hearty kiss. "And if I wasn't married, meself…" He grinned widely as he sent her on her way from the ship with a buffeting hand on her shoulder.

"So many admirers. You've made yourself very popular," Carolyn confided as she stood, taking the housekeeper's arm as they descended the gangplank. "But we have need of you, too."

"Yes, well…" Martha huffed. "For me, I'll be glad to have some solid ground beneath my feet. I swear I'll still be rocking in my sleep come next month."

She chuckled wryly as they nearer the toe of the gangway. Behind them, a furtive figure slipped away from the ship to move around behind them cautiously, seeming to wish to go as unnoticed as possible. Martha frowned as Elroy Applegate slid in around the pile of trunks, keeping her between himself and Daniel's eagle-eyed view from the bridge as he came forward, bent almost in half.

"Elroy?" she asked, with raised brows. "What are you doing here?"

"Ssshhhh…" The seaman waved a frantic hand. "I should be in my station below decks. The sails are needing my attention. But I managed to get away for a few minutes."

"You can't afford to get into any more trouble, Elroy," Carolyn advised him softly. "You'd better go back aboard before the Captain sees you."

"I will." Elroy nodded quickly. "I just wanted to bring you this. To thank you for saving me, my Captain's pretty lady. For putting your faith in me."

He knuckled his temple as he held out a large, neatly-made linen bag, decorated with round slivers of mother-of-pearl shell and a line of matched cowrie shells at the flap. A beautifully carved bone toggle fastened the flap to the bag.

He smiled proudly. "Old Alfred helped me to make it. It's all for you. To keep your notebooks in. I seen you sometimes struggling to keep them together." He hovered anxiously, watching Caroyn examine his gift.

"Why, thank you, Elroy…" Carolyn admired it, and the workmanship it had taken to create it. "It's lovely. Thank Alfred for me too, please."

Elroy smiled, looking beyond delighted as he wriggled like a very happy puppy. "Oh, thank you, my Captain's pretty lady. I will."

He knuckled his temple again before slipping away among the gangs of working men, heading back for the ship. He hurried up the gangplank and disappeared.

"Well, it seems that you too, have your admirers," Martha remarked, looking after him. "In an odd way, I will miss them all. Even Elroy. He certainly is unforgettable."

"Me, too," Carolyn agreed, shaking her head.

The two women stepped off the end of the gangplank together, both sighing with different forms of regret. Behind them, the children came scampering down with their dog, followed by Ellen carrying a boisterous Henry, who bounced up and down on her slim young hip.

"Can't say I'm not glad to be back home, too," the young nurse confided, trying to control her charge who was insisting on being allowed to get down. "I do miss my Ma and Pa and all the others. It's been long since I've seen them."

"Then you shall take some time to go home and see them," Carolyn instructed, removing the restive baby from her arms. "You'll take a week off and we will not hear any argument against it. You have done wonderfully with looking after Henry for us on the voyage."

"Oh, if you please, Mrs Gregg." Ellen brightened, clasping her hands together. "That would be wonderful."

"Then consider it done." Carolyn smiled, as Martha took the baby from her. "Go and find Malcolm and tell him to get you and your bags back to your own home. We'll see you bright and early next Sunday."

"Thank you, Mrs Gregg." The girl didn't need any further urging. She dropped a hasty curtsy and hurried away to find the ship's boy among the crowds of bustling workers on the dock.

Carolyn looked up to where her husband was impatiently ordering the work on discharging the ship's cargo. He was too involved with his manifests to look in her direction, but she could sense his impatience for the work to be over so he too could come ashore for however brief a time they still had together.

"I can wait…" The vision of two adjacent chairs set close together in the cool seclusion of the back garden rose to torment her once more. She shook her head with deep regret.

Of course, she had her own troubles. Her mother would be impatient for news and there was her very important telegram to be sent off. Carolyn was not looking forward to that but knew it had to be faced and soon.

"Come on…" she encouraged her small family. "Let's get all this loaded up and we can then be on our way as soon as the Captain can come ashore."

※※※※※

Claymore dithered over his selection of clothing. But nothing he'd tried on seemed to fit the bill. He stood for precious minutes in front of his bedroom mirror, twisting this way and that. To his over-critical eyes, his jackets and shirts all seemed to be wrong.

He wanted to strike a balance between assured and penitent. Between being able to apologise for his greed while justifying his reasons for renting out his cousin's house for a good cause. But nothing seemed to be working.

"Blast and damnation take it all!" He tore off his last jacket and shirt, hurling them onto the bed behind him, to land on top of the already large pile of rejected discards.

"Um, Sir…" A light tapping sounded on the bedroom door. "Mr Gregg, Sir…" Jack called hesitantly. "May I have a word?"

"What is it now?" Claymore snapped, rooting through the pile to start again from the beginning.

The door opened slowly and the boy peeked in. "The Carolyn, Sir. And your cousin. Word's come up that she's been docked for the last hour."

Claymore turned on him. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" he raged. "What do I pay you for, if not to keep me well informed?"

The young man tugged at his forelock. "Sorry, Sir. Not my fault. The message came up late."

"Oh, very well…" Claymore hauled out his first choice of clothing from the pile. It would have to do. "Get back to your work. I may be gone for some time. I do not expect to find you've been slacking when I get back!"

"Of course not, Sir," Jack replied in an injured tone before he retreated hastily, closing the door behind him.

"Blast…" Claymore muttered again as he pulled on the shirt and jacket.

They were not ideal, and far from the right impression he desired, but he was fresh out of time now. He could only pray the Williams had not already gotten wind of their daughter's arrival and were even now beating him down to the dock to tell their own version of the truth.

※※※※※

"I do not see that we must go down to the ship to meet them," Bradford protested, as he pulled in his gloves in the foyer. "Surely they will be here soon enough. And I do doubt our son-in-law will be best pleased to find us in full possession of his house. I really do wish you would reconsider."

"Oh, pish tosh…" his wife denied his protest as she adjusted her bonnet in the foyer mirror. "Daniel and Carolyn will thank us for taking charge in their absence. For making their house habitable again."

She studied her reflection critically. "That Claymore Gregg is a nasty man who cannot be trusted. If we had left for Philadelphia, who knows what else he may have devised behind their backs. We have saved our daughter undue embarrassment and I know she will thank us for that."

"That's as may be…" Bradford grumbled as he held the front door open for his wife to pass before him. "But I still do not like it. None of it."

"It's not for you to like or dislike any of my decisions," Emily assured him comfortably as he handed her up into the waiting carriage. "Just abide by them and do not interfere. You will soon see that our daughter understands the force of our argument."

"Don't involve me in any of this." Bradford raised his hands defensively in front of his chest after he gave the driver his orders. "I'm on Daniel's side. This is not our business. It is Gregg family business and that is all it is."

"You will see how right I am, soon enough," Emily assured him comfortably as the carriage set off for the town and its busy docks.

※※※※※

Claymore hurried from the end of the town's main street and down to the teeming docks. He disliked coming here at the best of times, preferring to conduct his business through Jack or the deeply deferential agents who lived and breathed his varied cargos and manifests.

Claymore adjusted his hat, nodding right and left to those who chose to recognise him and accord him the time of day. His chest swelled a little and the chagrined tone of his mind eased slightly.

Of course, he was an important man in the town. His many businesses brought in goodly profits. He prided himself on knowing the worth of a dollar.

His most recent gamble with importing French antiques had paid off, even if the annoying Countess Vanessa Beauvoir had cheated him out of what had rightly been his, bought and paid for. He had yet to cover that loss and it irked him.

He adored the monies the ventures generated, but not the physical and often dangerous impertinences to his person if he ever ventured down to the business end of his empire. He was often seen as nothing more than a fop and a dandy, getting in the way of honest men and their onerous work.

He could be jostled rudely aside or nearly beheaded by a passing bulky bundle of netted cargo. He was sure, at times, the dockworkers delighted in making his life a misery knowing he could do little in response but jump aside with an aggrieved shout of dismay.

But, this morning, he was on an urgent mission and Claymore was willing to put his life and limb on the line to be the first to secure the attentions of his cousin. The first sign of the Gull Cottage family was of Carolyn and Martha standing beside a large cart, organising the loading of their household goods while the children took care of a toddling Henry who'd just fallen onto his well-padded bottom and crowed with laughter.

"Excellent…" Claymore hunted for any sign of Daniel, but he was nowhere in sight. "Even better…"

He dragged off his hat as he hurried up to Carolyn's side, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. She turned to him with a gasp of surprise.

"Good morning, Claymore…" She greeted him with a slight frown. "How nice of you to come down to see us home again."

"Yes, nice, very nice…" Claymore babbled. "I felt it was my duty. After all, you are my family now…" He tittered nervously.

"Are you all right, Claymore?" Martha looked him over with concern as the last of their luggage was loaded up. "You're looking a bit peaky."

"I'm as right as rain," Claymore hurried to reassure her. "Just in the pink."

"I do hope you haven't been worrying for us and Henry," Carolyn replied. "I can tell you he has never been better. The life at sea seems to agree with him."

"Henry?" Claymore's brow clouded briefly, then cleared. "Oh, yes, Henry. Yes, of course. Good to know. He is now a Gregg, after all." His laugh sounded forced even to his own ears.

"There's nothing wrong up at the house, is there?" Carolyn continued to study him closely. "I mean, all is well. You're not down here with some bad news."

"Oh, no, No, not at all," Claymore reassured her heartily. "Everything up at the house is ship-shape and Bristol fashion. What else could it be?"

He inched forward, dropping his voice. "Um… but I was hoping to have a word with my cousin. A private word, if you please."

Carolyn shook her head, pointing toward the ship. "Well, as you can see, he's very busy right now. You will have to wait until the cargo has been unloaded."

"Oh, yes, I see." Claymore ran his eyes over the ship once more, as if seeking to find his own way aboard.

"I do have a telegram here that I must send off to my parents," Carolyn continued. "Or I could ask you to perform this small service for me since we must wait until Daniel has disembarked before we can be on our way."

"A telegram… To your parents…" Claymore turned to stare down at her blankly. "But, they…"

"Are you sure you're all right, Claymore…" Carolyn laid a gloved hand on his forearm. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Maybe I have…" Claymore croaked, easing a finger around inside the stiff collar of his shirt.

What he had just seen was a carriage pulling up at the end of the dock and two people getting out, stepping down to look around. He bit down on the curse that rose in his throat. He was too late and the Williams were too early. Once more he cursed the impetuousness of his decision to rent out Gull Cottage behind his cousin's back.

He took Carolyn's arm, turning her toward the ship. "I must confess I have a confession to make. A rather urgent confession. I ask only that you hear me out before you judge me. It was for the best. I know you will see that when I explain."

Carolyn gently removed her arm from his grasp. "You're being very mysterious, Claymore. What on earth have you been up to while we've been gone?"

"Nothing good, judging by the look on his face," Martha observed drily.

"Grandmother!" Jonathan suddenly shouted, looking beyond them all.

"Oh, look, Mother! It's Grandfather and Grandmother. They've come all this way to see us home again!" Candy added.

"Oh, great," Martha groaned. "A happy family reunion. And we've barely set foot on dry land."

"Claymore…" Carolyn shook her head before she turned to greet her parents who had made their way through the crowds of workers.

The children ran forward to greet them, receiving their hugs. Henry toddled around them, looking up at everyone with bright button eyes wide in his face. Emily frowned at him dubiously, not keen to have her clothing tugged on by his eager little hands.

"Hello, Mother!" Carolyn managed brightly. "We didn't expect to see you here."

"There's my darling girl…" Bradford hurried up to hug her. "And you're looking so well, too. The sea air certainly agrees with you."

"We thought we would surprise you," Emily assured her, hugging her daughter in turn. "You are surprised, aren't you dear?"

"Oh, yes. You've certainly managed to do that." Carolyn nodded, preventing Henry from making a lunge for her mother. "I didn't know you were even here to meet us."

"Come on, Henry…" Martha guided the baby away from temptation and back to his young minders.

"Well, you didn't answer my last telegram, dear…" Emily sniffed. "We needed to be sure you were being well taken care of." She looked the ship over with critical eyes. "We heard stories that your Captain had built a ship for you. And that he's started his own shipping company. It was quite the talk of Philadelphia."

Her critical eyes returned to her daughter. "Let's hope he can keep up the repayments on the loan. It must have been substantial."

"I'm truly sorry, but we ran out of time to reply to you before we left Boston," Carolyn replied quickly. "We were too busy working on paying off that loan."

She determined not to allow her mother's mood to sour their homecoming. The wonderful news about her pregnancy was not something she cared to share in such a public place. She needed to get her mother alone and in a much better mood.

She pressed one hand to the folded letter inside the pocket of her skirt. "But you both knew we were all safe and in good hands."

"I knew nothing of the sort…" Emily resorted to her handkerchief. "Anything could have happened out there in that great watery wilderness. And as for that London…" She fanned her face with one hand. "You could as easily have been lost there. I found it far too big and busy for my delicate sensibilities."

"Well, nothing did and we are all back here, safe and sound," her daughter replied patiently. "And London was perfect. I long to go back there."

She indicated her children who were playing with a chuckling Henry. "And as you can see, everyone is in good health and thriving. We can't wait to put to sea again."

"Again? Yes, well…" Emily's critical gaze slid beyond the children to Claymore, hovering anxiously at the edge of the group. "I see your husband's cousin was quick to avail himself of your arrival." She sniffed again. "No doubt he has his own business to conduct."

"Claymore?" Carolyn stared at her in confusion. "He too came down to make sure all is well with us. It's very kind of all of you."

"Kind?" Emily's voice rose. "Then we are in time to refute whatever this man has said to you about what happened up at your house. What we found him doing behind your back."

"I did ask to speak to you in private, Carolyn," Claymore edged in, moving closer again. "I really must insist on being heard first."

"You are in no position to insist on anything, man," Bradford intervened. "And you call yourself a Gregg." He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "I am ashamed that you were ever a part of my family. My first, dearly departed wife, must be turning in her grave over your audacity. My daughter should never have been sent to your town. I see that now."

"I'm feeling a little faint, Bradford," his second wife complained, laying the back of her hand against her forehead. "It is all just too much. I have worked my poor fingers to the bone these last few days. All without so much as a sniff of gratitude."

"You've worked your fingers to the bone?" Claymore stared at her in consternation. "That's not what I've heard, Madam! Those poor housemaids you hired said they've been worked near to death under the lash of your tongue!"

"Now, see here…" Bradford started forward, urged by his wife's clutching hand on his sleeve. "That's rich coming from the likes of you! You left nothing but chaos in your wake! There was a very bad smell attached to that dealing and no mistake!"

The bickering group was attracting the attentions of the busy dockworkers. They paused at their heavy tasks, openly speculating on what was happening and some were beginning to take sides as money began to be wagered on the outcome. The chokepoint in the unloading then attracted the eyes of the men still aboard the Carolyn. Malcolm ran to find his Captain.

"I did no such thing!" Claymore flared at the accusation. "Honest dealing has always been my motto!" He cast a furtive glance right and left. "Bad smell, indeed…" He tittered nervously. "I've never heard of such a thing…"

"What's this about hired housemaids? Hired for what and by whom?" Martha demanded to know. "Will someone tell me what's been going on here while we've been away?"

"And your daughter's coming to Schooner Bay was the making of her," Claymore added. "She would be the first to say so." He turned to his cousin's wife. "Right, my dear?"

"To say what?" Putting a hand to her own warm brow and feeling as if the dock was moving beneath her feet, Carolyn tried to make sense of the situation. Everyone seemed to be talking at odds and about things she had no knowledge of.

"Will someone please tell me what has been going on in my own house?" she questioned in exasperation, looking from one to the other. "I've had enough of cross-talk of secrets and bad dealings!"

"I think it best that if anyone has anything to confess then they had better do it to me! Before I finally lose my temper with the three of you for having the thoughtless gall to come here, upsetting my wife, before she's even had time to set foot inside her own house! And any man caught speculating on private business will forfeit a day's wage!"

The watching dockworkers scattered, all hurrying back to their own business with tugged forelocks and muttered excuses. None had any wish to be docked a day's pay for nosying into business not their own.

"Oh, blast!" Claymore jumped and began to babble his excuses.

Carolyn's parents both looked put out and harried. Bradford placed a restraining hand on his wife's arm as she was about to step forward, obviously intending to have the first word.

They all turned to find Daniel standing at the foot of the gangplank with his sea bag slung over one broad shoulder. The morning sunshine glinted off the rank on his gold cap badge; showing who was in charge and highlighting the sternly disapproving look on his grimly-set face as he looked from one guilty face to the next.

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