The man nodded, seemingly not offended by Mr. Ashby’s rebuke.
“Miss Elspeth Findlay, this is Mr. Matthew Hull,” Mr. Ashby introduced. “He is the first mate and second in command on board theKatarina. He’s a trustworthy man and will be a great help to us while we sail together.” His words seemed to be directed more to Mr. Hull than to us. He wanted him to hear the unspoken warning.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hull,” I said. “This is my companion, Patrice Mackenzie. Please let me know if I can help with smooth sailing in any way.” I smiled to show my sincerity.
“Aye, a pleasure, Miss Findlay, Miss Mackenzie. I hope yer time on theKatarinawill be tolerable.” He then wrote something in the ledger he held—I could only assume it was our names, as he seemed to be keeping a record of everyone coming aboard.
Mr. Ashby led the way with confidence, which helped alleviate any apprehension that was left in me. We had chosen our guide well. The sailors were readying everything to set sail, and I marveled at their skills. From the young to the old, it seemed each man had a job and knew it well.
A few of the men nodded to us as we walked past them, acknowledging Mr. Ashby with familiarity while giving Patrice and me wary looks. Despite how they regarded us women, it seemed they held respect for Mr. Ashby. Did he have some kind of impressive reputation amongst sailors? Did everyone recognize him?
My mind filled with questions for this man about whom I knew nearly nothing. I kept them to myself, however, and we began descending stairs that led below deck. Knowing the answer must beghastly, I did not ask what kind of accommodations we could expect, and as we went deeper into the ship, it seemed my expectations were correct. It was so very dark down there that I wondered if a candle would even make a difference, or would it be snuffed out by the blackness?
I soon found, however, that the candle Mr. Ashby lit and handed to me did make a difference. We finally came upon a door with a faded sign that readWomen Quarters,and he pushed it open to reveal four beds—two beds stacked on each wall—one table with four chairs, and what looked like a wash basin with a wooden bucket beside it. On the floor in a corner sat a copper chamber pot. The space seemed as though it hadn’t been used in years. Strange, considering the lack of space on the ship.
I turned in the small space to look at Patrice, who shared a carefully placid expression with me, and then at Mr. Ashby, who stood there smirking.Smirking!What man would smirk at a woman at a time like this?
“Are your accommodations to your liking, Lady Findlay?”
I pierced him with a glower first, then relaxed my expression into composed confidence. His provoking would have no effect on me. “That’s very clever of you, Mr. Ashby, but I amMissFindlay. And I am perfectly fine with everything I see here, as I did not expect anything more. You need not worry about me. Or Patrice. We are not fragile little girls.”
The lines around his eyes deepened with good humor. “Very well. I shall cease teasing you for the time being. Go ahead and get settled. I’ll wait just outside for you so we can go up top. We’ll hear what the captain has to say before we set sail.” He tapped on the door frame once and then disappeared.
I pushed out a breath before placing my bag on the table and sitting hard in the chair. “We did it,” I said to Patrice.
“Aye. Here we are.” She put her things down as well and sat on a bottom bed. “Not much to it, is there?”
“It is as I’d expected. More or…” I pulled up a shoulder and smiled at her. “Less.”
We didn’t linger, but instead rejoined Mr. Ashby. As soon as we climbed the final steps to the top deck to stand along with the crew, the captain began speaking. His appearance was altered since we’d met him at The Anchor a few days ago. He was no longer disheveled. Instead, he wore a crisp white shirt beneath a blue jacket and a brown tricorn hat. His graying hair was tied neatly with a blue ribbon.
“The seas are beckoning, men.” A cheer rang throughout. I took the moment to look around at the men. There seemed to be about twenty men and three ship’s boys in the crew. It seemed a small crew to me, as I imagined well over twenty men were required to sail a ship. It just proved how little I knew about seafaring.
The captain continued as the cheers died down. “If you do not shirk your assignments, I daresay we will have an easy trip. I’ve recruited the famed purser, Arthur Ashby, for this voyage, and he’s to see to our accounts and rations.” I looked toward Mr. Ashby, surprised to hear he wasfamed.How popular could one be as a purser?Did he save someone with calculations?I smirked at my private joke.
The captain continued. “We also have two women passengers, as you see.” All eyes turned to Patrice and me. I noted a few glares, but mostly apathetic stares. “Absolute respect for these ladies is expected from all of you. If you dislike women being aboard, take it up with Ashby. It was his only demand in joining the crew.” He nodded, his hands on his hips. “That’ll be all.”
Mr. Hull then stepped up and called out, “To your positions!”
As his command sounded, every man jumped into action. The scene was familiar, as it was the same I’d witnessed as we entered the ship. Incoherent words were shouted amongst them and several men ran past me with ropes and buckets and tools I did not recognize. One bumped into me, and I realized I must be in the way. A hand grabbed my elbow and pulled me out of someone’s path.
“Careful now, Miss Findlay,” Mr. Ashby said. I looked directly into his eyes, as they were level with my own. “First thing you should learn about being aboard a vessel is to stay out of the middle of the deck.” He smiled kindly and his tone betrayed no hint of patronizing.
“Noted. Thank you, Mr. Ashby. I will count on you to teach me the…ropes, excuse the pun.” I pulled my arm out of his gentle grasp and turned to watch the crew. Patrice had followed us and now stood on the other side of Mr. Ashby. I glanced at her and noticed she was just as mesmerized by them.
“Come,” Mr. Ashby said. “I know where we can have a great view of the harbor as we set sail. It is out of the way.”
He led us to the stern. We held tight to the taffrail, and I watched the Scottish coastline grow smaller as we sailed out of the harbor. I lifted both arms and waved farewell to my home, grinning delightedly. When I put my arms down, I caught Mr. Ashby’s gaze and found him watching me curiously. Even if he had asked about my actions, I couldn’t fully explain it, so I turned back to the view.
I was not afraid. How could I be, when my life for the past three years had been spent waiting in a castle tower with the same view of Scotland day after day? My heart had been slowing to a melancholy rhythm. Scotland from this perspective, however, made my heart pound in a way it hadn’t since Graham left.It is not fear, it’s anticipation.
Patrice laid a hand on mine, and when I looked at her, I noticed tears falling down her cheeks. Then I realized I had some on mine as well. We wiped our cheeks and laughed together. Perhaps there was sadness mixed in with the anticipation.
“As it is your first time leaving your home, your tears are unsurprising,” came Mr. Ashby’s empathetic voice from beside me.
I turned to him. “I have left Scotland before, as you well know.”
“London hardly counts,” he replied, turning back to the view. “The first time I left to sea, I think I cried an entire day.”
