Chapter Twenty-Eight
Beyond The Blue Horizon
Early the next morning, Carolyn had barely swallowed the last of her breakfast coffee when the Bridgewater's concierge came bustling into the hotel's restaurant. He wore an anxious frown and was carrying a buff-coloured envelope in his hand.
He held it out as he reached their table. "This telegram just came for you, Mrs Gregg. It's marked as urgent. I knew you would wish to see it right away."
He bowed his head. "I'll be at my desk if there's to be any reply." Keeping a wary eye on Daniel's frowning concern, he left the room.
"Uh, oh…" Martha shook her head at the envelope. "That doesn't look like any good news we need to be hearing this early in the morning. We'd best be getting on if we're to leave with the tide."
She rose to her feet. "Come along, children. Since you've all finished your breakfast, we need to get upstairs and finish your packing. You too, Ellen. Henry will need changing before we go aboard the Carolyn again."
She quickly shepherded her charges out of the restaurant. She paused in the doorway to look back. "Good luck. I think you're gonna need it." She closed the doors behind her.
"Do not allow anyone to intimidate you," Daniel advised quietly, watching his wife handle the envelope as if it was about to explode in her hands. "Certainly not your mother."
Carolyn looked up with anguished eyes. "How do you know if it's from her?"
"By your expression, you think so too." Her husband took her hand. "Now open it and let's lance this painful boil once and for all. There is nothing Emily Williams can do or say now to delay us. The morning tide waits for no one. Certainly not your mother's displeasure."
"Yes, of course. Very well…" Carolyn turned the envelope over and slit the seal open. "Sally was so kind in her reply to me yesterday. She waits eagerly for our next manuscript and wished us well for the voyage. She's a very good and lovely friend."
She slowly withdrew the folded telegram and opened it. The message was short, sharp and to the point. "It seems my mother is forbidding me to sail with you this season given that London is so far from here and could contain all manner of hazards and dangers. She fears she may never see me or our children again."
"I thought as much," her husband replied, downing the last of his coffee in a single swallow.
Carolyn pulled a discontented face. "Fine words indeed. Penned from the safety of her drawing room. For it was my own mother who packed me off to the wilds of Maine without a single thought to my safety when I refused to obey her and accept I needed to be married again."
She waved the telegram in agitation. "But what shall I tell her? How will I answer her?"
"Do not overset yourself." Daniel plucked the telegram from her slackened fingers and returned it to its envelope. "Put your mother and all her cohorts out of your mind, my love."
He pushed the telegram into the inner pocket of his naval jacket. "Your best answer is to tell her nothing at all. You have already said all that is needed. Allow Emily to stew in her own discontent. There will be time enough for renewed communication when we return from London. By then she may have finally learned a valuable lesson about where her new boundaries now lie."
"Thank you, my love…" Carolyn laid her hand over his and closed her fingers around it.
"Come along, then." Daniel returned her clasp before he rose to his feet and moved behind her chair to draw it back for her to stand. "We are away to sea and all those new adventures that wait for us beyond the blue horizon."
"Yes…" Carolyn sighed quickly as she clasped his arm between both hands as she allowed him to escort her from the restaurant.
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Despite the sun having barely risen above the far horizon, the docks of Boston Harbour were already seething with life and chaotic industry. Overnight the Carolyn had been newly loaded with her new cargo bound for London town.
She rose slowly with the surge of incoming the tide, her extended gangplank an open invitation to come aboard. But hurry now, she was eager to be gone from her necessary confinement. The broad blue Atlantic was where she truly belonged.
The Gull Cottage family made their careful way aboard her as the dock workers went about their work. The men shouted and jostled each other, their raised voices once more drowning out the softer sounds of the Massachusetts Bay waters.
The gulls wheeling overhead as always, added their own voices to the noise of the massed humanity. They watched and waited for any chance to swoop in and steal anything edible.
"Did you know there are none of these brazen gulls anywhere on the Hawaii Islands?" Daniel leaned close to remark as he escorted Carolyn through the crowds of men and goods toward the ship. "There are also no pelicans."
Carolyn drew her warm coat closer around her against the chill of the morning. She glanced up at the wheeling birds. "I didn't know that. What a fact for our next manuscript. Why is that?"
Her husband shrugged. "I have to guess it's because the islands are too far from anywhere else. The Pacific Ocean is truly vast. The birds are not capable of flying such long distances."
"I would like to see those islands," Carolyn replied as they reached the toe of the gangplank. "They sound like heaven. And warm."
"They are and you shall," her husband assured her as he took her arm to steady her progress.
"Well, I want to see a whale," Jonathan confided as he walked up the gangplank ahead of his parents. "Or some dolphins. Maybe even a giant squid."
"Well, I'll be glad enough if I can get used to a floor that's always moving beneath my feet," Martha grumbled good-naturedly as she helped Ellen to carry an excited Henry aboard. "I'm sure I'll be quite the sailor by the time we arrive in London. Or lying in my cot with a wet cloth pressed to my brow."
"Oh, Martha…" Candy sighed with a laugh as she followed her family up the gangplank. "I'm sure we can make a seawoman out of you."
"Morning, Captain…" Mr Jarvis saluted as he appeared beside Daniel. He bowed to Carolyn. "Mrs Gregg."
He placed a detaining hand on his Captain's arm. "Those merchants took some shaking off yesterday. They said they'd be back first thing this morning, wanting to know when you'll be seeing to their most immediate needs."
He grinned. "Captain Beaumont's managed to avoid them all by setting sail already. He said you'll have to catch him up if you want to complain."
"I trust you managed to soothe all those ruffled merchant feathers yesterday," Daniel remarked as he followed his wife up the gangplank.
"Of course," his first mate responded cheerfully. "I promised every one of them that you'd see to all their demands the moment they returned today. But I fear they are yet to rise from their warm beds to face this cold morning." He blew a long breath which instantly misted in the chilly air around them.
"Then let us follow Captain Beaumont's excellent example and make good our escape while we still can. I trust you have all well in hand, Mr Jarvis."
"As always, Captain." Jarvis stood back. "Mrs Gregg…" He tipped two fingers to his sea cap. "We are honoured to have you aboard. It will be a pleasure to sail with you again."
"On your way, Mr Jarvis," Daniel commanded as two crewmen stepped up to deal with the removal of the gangplank. "Your duties await and we have a ship to catch up with."
"Aye, aye, Captain…" Nathan Jarvis saluted again with a cheeky grin before smartly effacing himself as he began shouting his commands to the assembled crew.
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The rising sun shone down weakly and the new spring day had dawned fresh. The sharp ozone smell of the ocean drifted inland on the stiffening breeze.
Claymore rose early and dressed quickly. He ordered his carriage to be brought around from the town's stables. He drove quickly out of town well before his young clerk had even arrived at the office. The boy's master did not need anyone knowing of his destination and possibly carrying tales.
Claymore brought his vehicle to a halt before the front gate of his cousin's vacant house. He got down and walked up the path, looking all around for any sign of a casual observer.
He brought out the spare key he'd had secretly made years before and unlocked the front door. Ever conscious he was trespassing where he shouldn't be, he looked back over his shoulder as he pushed the door open and eased himself inside.
Of course, the isolation of the place meant he would be unobserved. Besides, he comforted himself, he had every right to be there. But he was taking no risks about being observed by some passing busybody from the town.
In the days before Carolyn Muir had arrived in Schooner Bay and proceeded to completely upset the comfortable balance of his life, Claymore had often demanded his cousin allow him to rent the house out whenever there'd been a serious shortage of houses for summer rentals. Annoyingly, Daniel had always refused to agree, saying it was his home and not some public tavern or a boarding house of any waifs and strays.
Undeterred, Claymore had persisted through the years, presenting all sorts of attractive proposals. Every one of them had been rejected out of hand. Time and again he'd tried to persuade his cousin to see the sense of the idea. The house often lay idle for many weeks on end, sometimes even months if Daniel had taken it into his head to go sailing in the Southern Hemisphere.
Times where it could bring in a pretty profit for both of them. All to no avail. Daniel had stubbornly refused to even consider the idea. Before they'd all sailed for Boston, his most recent refusal still rankled.
"It's always made sound business sense to me." Claymore sighed roughly. "What could it hurt? Blast!"
His summer rental business was booming, increasing with each new season. His growing lack of suitable accommodation kept him awake at night counting his potential losses. Now the temptation within him had finally become too great to ignore.
Cousin Daniel and his family had all sailed away six days ago and by now the ship would be already loaded with fresh cargo and bound for London. They were safely out of the way. Claymore shook his head, screwing up his courage to enter the house.
"What can he do?" he addressed the shadowed silence. "He's not here and I am. And this time there's no nosy old housekeeper keeping an eye on the place. I can do what I like. A nice, fat, short-term rental, that's the answer. No one need know a thing if I make it a private arrangement."
He rubbed his hands with glee as he advanced into the foyer, looking all around. Everything sparkled and shone in the early morning light being cast through the open door behind him. The beginnings of a passing spring storm rumbled in the far distance.
"It all looks to be in good order…" Claymore put out a hand to ease open one of the double doors to the living room. "Good order, indeed. Oh, I'll make a pretty penny on this place. A very pretty penny. Or my name's not Claymore Gregg."
As he entered the room his growing enjoyment of his devious plans was short-lived. Hanging above the fireplace, the Captain's portrait appeared to be glaring back at him with silent reproof. Claymore jumped just a little and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up in alarm.
"I… um, hello." He tried to smile ingratiatingly but failed. "I'm just making sure everything's in order. You know, taking care of business like you asked me to. Earning my fee, you might say."
He laughed inanely as he raised one hand to wave his fingers weakly at the portrait, wondering why on earth he was even talking to the painted image. It couldn't do him any harm.
But it somehow seemed alive and very disapproving. He swallowed against the suddenly parched dryness of his throat.
"I... I... wish you'd approve of my leasing out the house while you're away at sea," he stammered, into the menacing silence. "I mean, we could both turn a pretty profit. I really do stand in need of more houses like this one on my summer rental list. What could it hurt?"
He frowned, wondering if he was losing his mind. "Besides, how would you know if I did rent it out? Who's going to tell?"
He squared his shoulders, pleased with his own logical explanation. "Yes, a private arrangement. Something well off the books."
A sudden flash of spring lightning illuminated the painting eerily. The painted blue eyes appeared to disapprove of Claymore's every move and they brimmed with stark censure. Thunder rumbled in the distance like a menacing growl.
Behind him, the half-open front door slammed shut with a crash as a gust of wind seized it. Claymore spun around, mumbling in sudden fear as he rushed for the door. He tugged on the handle, finally managing to fling it wide open.
He fell out onto the front porch, almost losing his balance and coming precariously close to tumbling down the front steps. He caught himself at the last moment, managing to avoid such an ignominious fall and potential damage to his person and dignity.
The spring storm abated as abruptly as it had begun and everything returned to the usual brooding silence. Claymore turned back to stare into the shadowed hall. He shuddered with fear as he walked up to the open front door and seized the doorknob.
"I might have known you wouldn't agree! You never will! Have it your way, then!" he shouted at the shadows before slamming the door shut and locking it again. "I'll see you all when you get back into port!"
He thumped his closed fist against the faded blue woodwork. "And I'll be demanding double my fee from now on! I need to get something better out of our deal! Or my name's not Claymore Gregg!"
Somewhere in the distance, there was the sudden sound of a crash and then someone laughed mockingly as if enjoying a good joke at another's unfortunate expense. It was a man's voice and it underscored the muttering rumble of the distant storm.
"Okay, okay, You win! I'm going…" Claymore whimpered as he scurried back down the front path and through the open gate.
He jumped up into his carriage and gave his startled horse a smart slap on the rump with the reins to hurry them both on their way back to town and the safety of his place of business. Next time he would send his clerk out to check on the place.
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Able Seaman Fourth Class Elroy Applegate dawdled across the deck with his swab. His attempts at cleaning were perfunctory. His dreaming gaze was fixed on the wheeling gulls diving for the morning's galley scraps and not on his work of mopping the deck beneath his feet.
He'd dawdled at his duties since the forenoon watch had begun. His fellows had swabbed along the deck well ahead of him and had now passed out of sight toward the stern. None of those hardened seamen had bothered to waste their breath calling back to him or encouraging him to be about his duties. He wouldn't have listened anyway.
Elroy had no ears or eyes for anything beyond the seabirds. He sighed dramatically, wishing he could dip and fly like those wheeling overhead. They seemed to be so carefree where he was bogged down with worry.
He wandered slowly to the ship's rail, trailing his swab, his allotted task quite forgotten. He leaned far out to watch the gulls, precariously balancing between salvation and certain oblivion beneath the waves churning past the ship's hull.
"Elroy!" a voice hissed at him. "What're you doing? Get back aboard! You'll fall in if you lean out any further!"
The sudden terse whispers made Elroy jump, startling him from his reverie. He almost pitched headlong over the side but caught himself in time. He turned, looking all around and finally saw two young heads poking out of a nearby hatch.
"You'd better get back to work, Elroy," Malcolm advised wisely. "Before the Captain sees you and puts you on a charge. One more and you'll be done for."
"Work?" For a moment Elroy looked mystified then his brow cleared. "Oh, right… yes, work."
He sighed as he lifted the swab as if seeing it for the first time. He cast a regretful glance back over his shoulder at the gulls and then along the deck he was supposed to be cleaning.
"But they're so pretty." He pointed at the birds. "I love watching them."
"Well, my mother vouched for you," Jonathan told him. "She'll get the blame if you don't pull your weight around here. The Captain said he wants the whole place ship-shape and Bristol fashion before the afternoon watch or he'll be wanting to know why not."
"She will? He will? Oh, yes. Yes, of course, she will." Elroy straightened manfully, grabbing at one of his untidy striped socks with his free hand and nearly losing his grip on his swab. "Well, we can't have that!"
He managed a smart salute without getting tangled in his swab again and went back to his work with renewed vigour. But he still kept one envious eye on the wheeling gulls dipping and turning overhead.
The boys watched him for some time before they retreated below the hatch. They sat down together on the steps.
"You know, your Ma's a really nice lady," Malcolm stated. "I like her a lot. But vouching for Elroy? She's much too kind-hearted for the likes of him. He'll only go and let her down, you'll see. Then he'll be put ashore for good and good riddance, I say."
He shook his head. "That's if he doesn't fall over the side first when he's dreaming. If no one sees him, he'll be done for and no mistake."
"Yeah…" Jonathan rested his chin in the cup of his upraised palm. "But what can we do? You're showing me what I need to do. Who's going to show Elroy? He doesn't listen."
Malcolm shrugged. "Then I guess it's up to us two to keep a weather eye on him. Make sure he gets there and back in one piece and doesn't annoy your Pa."
Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, the Captain'll keelhaul him if he catches him slacking off again."
"He's your Dad, so you know best, I guess." Malcolm nodded. "But the Captain don't take kindly to having any backsliders or slackers on board. And Elroy's about the biggest slacker I've ever seen."
"Then it's up to us to keep him out of trouble," Jonathan stated firmly. "Elroy's just like a big kid anyway. We can jolly him along, keep him from messing up."
Malcolm stood up. "Okay, but don't breathe a word to your Ma or anyone. Not your sister either. Even if she is kind of cute. It'll be our secret."
He cocked his head, listening to the running of the ship's hull through the vast Atlantic waters. "I'd better go. Captain'll be calling for me soon. I got things I got to get done before we eat."
"Can I help?" Jonathan got up. "You said you were going to teach me things."
"Sure, if you want to." Malcolm slung a companionable arm around the younger boy's shoulders and urged him forward. "But remember, say nothing to your Ma. It'll sure get back to your Pa and then he'll blow his top. We got to get Elroy straightened out before then."
Jonathan pulled a face as they walked along the lower deck heading for the forward hatch. "You think Candy's cute? My sister," he asked incredulously. "How come?"
"Well, yes, for a girl, she's all right, I guess…" Malcolm qualified quickly, ducking his head to conceal his sudden flush of embarrassment as they climbed the steps back up to the top deck.
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