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Chapter Ten
Melina crouched on the oak-planked bunk in the cabin. The mattress had been replaced on the bed. The pallet gone. Now Warrington’s trunk sat in the room, open. He stood in front of it, staring at the silk waistcoat and buff breeches, complaining that he had not brought someone named Broomer along so he could have cared for the clothing. Warrington had already taken out a gentleman’s beaver hat totally unsuitable for the ship or Melos.
Warrington was not of her world. She’d seen silk before and touched it. Her father had worn it. She lived in the world of scratchy wool and rough linen.
‘I do not like sailing.’ She spoke low, knowing her words wouldn’t carry though the wall.
‘Makes two of us and I own half of the ship.’ He gave her a half smile. ‘But my infant brother could talk me into buying a bag of bees.’
She shrugged. ‘He reminds me of Stephanos. Stephanos has a schooner and sometimes wears nearly the same clothes as the captain.’ She gauged Warrington’s face to see if he took offence at her dislike of his brother.
Warrington’s chest moved as if he laughed, but she heard no sound. ‘Ben doesn’t take well to being on his back, alone. And he’s superstitious. Though he’ll never say so to you, he thinks you brought bad luck to the ship.’
‘The only person I brought misfortune for was me and my statue.
Warrington turned from the trunk, preparing his razor, putting soap on his face and scowling into the small mirror. ‘I’m pleased you forgave Stubby.’
‘I’ve not—but he doesn’t need to know that. He meant no harm.’
‘Ben will stay on board a few more days, until he is walking better. Gid will see he has all he needs brought to him.’ Warrington shaved as he talked. ‘We three brothers have a town house in London. Ben will have to stay on Ascalon, making sure she is readied. Dane is at my country house, working with my man of affairs—taking care of the estates.’
He looked out of the window, as the ship sailed past warehouses for unloaded goods. ‘I can’t yet return to the country house. Whitegate is my ancestral home. My real home—though I’ve lived in the town house since Cass died. Now that I’m to be in London again, I have to settle a few things for myself. Things I couldn’t face before, but now it’s time.’
When he finished, he stored his shaving supplies and prepared to depart.
She kept her eyes to the window while he changed clothing. Each rustle of fabric echoed in her ears. He stood so close, she could see his arm when he donned the shirt. She bit down on her lip, trying to keep her awareness of him from changing her breathing or showing in the colour of her face. She wondered what he would do if she turned and watched. Probably continue exactly as he had been the moment before. But she could not let him see her interest and she could not give in to it. She swallowed, and tried to think of the sights she saw outside the window. But nothing beyond the glass had any appeal for her at this moment.
‘You can turn now, Melina.’ His roughened voice whispered at her ears, jarring her. She jumped forward, but couldn’t move much or she’d have her face against the panes. ‘I’m all tucked away.’
‘The sights of the town are neos, fresh, for me.’
He gave a teasing grunt and she could tell he backed away from her. But she was also aware from his response that he remembered well it wasn’t only the view in front of her that was new to her.
The clothing he’d worn while he sailed was tossed on to the floor.
‘You are not taking those?’ she asked, looking at the heap.
He shook his head. ‘Gid’ll see use is made of the scraps. I will never wear them again.’
She forced herself not to pick them up. Surely they could be sold for a few pence, but they weren’t hers to sell. She would have to find her father and hope she was wrong about him. She’d planned to rail at him for leaving her mother. Now she would have to be kind.
She’d not wanted Warrington to know she had a father in London because she felt ashamed he had deserted them. But she’d told him anyway.
‘Remember, Ben chose the town house fripperies and hired servants.’ Warrington opened the door. ‘It’ll not be much different than the ship. But when the ship is repaired, you’ll be here and able to go back to Melos, and care for your sisters.’
She took the satchel she’d brought, slipping the strap over her shoulder, and wrapped the shawl tight around her, then followed Warrington to the deck. She watched the port come into view. Already she could see the buildings and the people. The ship floated up the waterway, into England.
