P&P FF

"The Captain's Concession: A Bennet's Destiny"

Previously:

Jane longed to dispute Mary's assertions, to convince her she was mistaken. Yet, like her father, her sister knew within the family, an unspoken acknowledgment existed that Mary possessed a unique perception, an ability to 'see' beyond what others could. If Mary was sensing an impending shift; if her dreams were harbingers, then indeed, a transformation loomed on the horizon. And it seemed, with a sense of foreboding, that this change had -at the very least- their parents highly agitated and could possibly cause some sort of loss on the girls' part.

Captain Pedersen

CH. 3

"Aye, Captain!" Bowler, one of the sailors, came and slapped Emil upon the back as he got off the ship, not an easy thing to do as the newest seaman was only four-foot ten and the captain an easy foot taller, if not a tad more. It was not the only thing that made them stand apart, the shorter fellow had pitch black hair whereas his boss had copper colored hair. Ignoring how he looked compared to his boss the gentleman continued finished his greeting with a plea... "I beg of you, tell me it ain't so."

"How can I dae that, eh? When I dinnae ken whit ye're bletherin' aboot, can I?"

"They say you are quitting the sea."

""Aye, it's true, I've been sailin' since I was nae mair than a wee bairn," Emil laughed. "I did it tae fend for me mither, as the hills beckoned me faither's name efter he brocht me mither back tae her ain land. I was her only son, her bairns all lasses. But, mind ye, aw the ports the ship—me mither's friend got me a berth on—were moored in England."

"How come, when I have heard you speak without that accent, and in very proper English, do you speak with such a heavy accent now? now to mention so informally? on the sea I understand, us sailors I get, but you're a man of business on the land."

Emil leaned against the worn wood of the dock, the salty air mingling with the earthy scent of tar and rope. His gaze lingered on the horizon, where the sea met the sky in a line as sharp as the divide between his Scottish heart and the English expectations.

"Aye, I can manage well enough," he said, his voice carrying sound of his Scottish birth, a stark contrast to the crisp tones of the gentleman before him. "But these English are too stern to be dealin' wi' me if they fathom just how deep ma roots in Scotland run. It's easier here, on the docks, where the world's a mix of tongues and tales, and a man's accent is nae more than a curiosity."

He paused, his eyes darkening with memories of loss and conflict. "It was a sore trial when they had to come to grips wi' ma faither bein' a Dane. But now, to ken that ma mither and ma sister, who's still wi' us, God bless her, have gone back up to the Highlands within the last year—that might just be the straw that breaks the camel's back."

The sailor shifted, uncomfortable, as if the weight of Emil's heritage bore down upon him too. "I see," he murmured, a note of respect threading through his words. "The docks are your refuge then, a place where a man can be true to himself." To him it made it even more confusing the man quitting the sea; however, he kept quiet.

Emil nodded, a grim smile touching his lips. "Aye, that they are. And as long as the sea's beside me and Scotland's in ma heart, I'll weather any storm they throw ma way." He turned his gaze back to the sea, the rolling waves a testament to the tumultuous journey of a man caught between two worlds.

"Probably would not understand half your words." Bowler shook his head. "They might not like being called stubborn." He, like the rest of the crew kept the captain's relations to themselves as they respected the gentleman so much, they had no desire to chase the man off.

"It's the truth, and I could name them worse, though no' all English are ill, I'll grant them that."

"I do hope the day comes you choose to come back to the sea." It was another reason the crew was keeping their mouth shut as to the captain's family ties; they figured if they had his back, should he need to come back, well then, Captain Pedersen would know which ship to trace his steps to. It was a fact which had drilled in by the others to even this newcomer.

Emil watched Bowler leave with a friend and dwelt on his accent. He actually had a knack of speaking all sorts of dialects. Scottish, English, Dutch, and more. It had come in handy more than once over the years. Saved his men's skin on the seas more than once. Of course, the times he had passed himself off as man of another country, well, Emil had always made sure there was no light on his face.

Now there was plenty of sun on his skin as he walked the cobblestone streets of Bristol. The businesses of were full of life and bustling with activity. Men and women haggled over prices at open markets, people came in and out of shops and children raced by the well-known captain when he came into sight. It was only due to his men's extreme loyalty to Emil that the towns people did not know his mother's origins, though they were fully aware his father was a Dane.

No, at first that had not been the case. People had been stand-offish. They had only come to his place of business due to his English partner. However, when it became clear he tolerated no stealing, lying or cheating in spite of being a merchant in business when not at sea. When his fist had met more than one man's jaw for being in appropriate towards a young woman and so forth it had, in time, changed people's attitudes. They now ignored their first impressions and came to buy merchandise from both men.

"Captain, just heard the news. Does that mean I will have more of your help at this shop?" Roger Burg smiled wide.

Emil went to speak, that was part of his plan; however, for some odd reason he felt constrained not to commit. He might have spoken with the accent he had with Bowler; Bristol was a highly diverse town. Unfortunately, he had learned long ago, there were staunch English who hated the Scots even more than they did the Danes; hence, he switched gears for the sake of not driving away business for Roger who was in the shop the majority of the time. It did not hurt the captain he desired to stay alive as well.

"I cannot commit at this time. I have some errands in London to attend to, and then I have a meeting to attend to down in Longbourn."

"London, I understand, plenty of business there, but Longbourn? Is that not near Meryton? What business do you have done there?" Roger knew the captain had more than one place of business but did not think any was that far south.

"Yes, it is. My uncle has moved to Meryton. As to what I am going down there for, let us just say it is personal." Emil handed Mr. Burg a sack full of goods. "We bought all that in from the West Indies, the people in Bristol will eat it up like candy." The captain then went and looked at the ledgers, checked inventory and come back out to find his partner delighted with the sugar, rum and tobacco that Emil had brought back.

"Did you bring back anything else?"

"For my other place of business, yes, but you only made a request for those items." The captain reminded him and chuckled when Mr. Burg groaned and replied maybe the captain should reconsider his retirement from the sea.

"You are not an old captain. You have plenty of years left. Your men say the sea loves you."

"People's lives change." The captain refused to explain and exited the building with a small bag over his shoulder.

Emil about bumped into a young urchin who was not paying attention to where he was going, but only smiled. No one was hurt and he recalled wishing he could have run loose at that age. Instead, a memory flashed into his mind without the captain even consciously putting it there.

The morning sun had barely broken over the horizon, casting a golden glow across the deck of the GTS Valiant. Captain James stood firmly at the helm, his eyes scanning the busy sailors as they prepared for the day's voyage. Among them was young Emil, the newest cabin boy, his face a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

Emil!" bellowed Captain James, his voice slicing through the din of the morning's flurry. The lad jolted upright, his foot almost catching on a loop of hemp in his scurry.

"Sir, aye, sir!" Emil responded, puffing up his chest with a semblance of stature.

The captain's austere mien eased ever so slightly. "This day forth, ye'll be schooled in the mariner's craft. Your inaugural duty is to aid Mr. Brown, our quartermaster. He'll show ye the proper fashion to coil and secure the lines. I helm a ship that brooks no skylarking. Have I made myself clear? Any shenanigans, and it'll be your last voyage aboard my vessel."

Emil bobbed his head earnestly. "Aye, Captain. Ye'll have no cause for regret from me."

Leaving of the memory of a childhood that was not much of one, Emil entered a small jewelry shop.