The usual blue of the sky seemed to turn white, then faded into a variety of pinks while the deep orange of the sun reflected in the endless ocean. The moment felt tremendously meaningful. What was it about sunsets and sunrises that filled a person’s heart?
We stood there for a long time, and eventually darkness took over the scene. Only it wasn’t dark, just dim. Without looking up at all, I saw the stars. For the first time in my life, they were all around me. Not only above, but everywhere. The glass sea reflected them. The moon shone brighter than I’d ever seen it. I did not even need a candle to see every inch of the ship, nor a lamp to see every freckle on Patrice’s nose when she met my gaze.
There were no words, so we didn’t try to speak. There was only a deep sense of awe that I believed we both felt.
Somewhere, across the sky, Graham existed in a state unknown. Of course, it had been this way for years. But now I was on my way to him, and my thoughts, like the sea, were filled with the heavens. These stars were evidence of something bigger than myself. And while I knew those stars were as unchangeable as fate, I also knew that I would do everything in my power to fight for the life for which I had desperately waited. No longer would my fate be decided by others. Like the ship sailing through the stars, changing their alignment, I would mold my fate with my own hands.
Chapter 7
Thenextday,wesat around a table eating breakfast. I had awoken to the sound of creaking and not much else. In our secluded area of the ship, I couldn’t even hear the crew speaking to each other. I was used to hearing birds and crickets and frogs, cows and sheep and horses. To hear so little seemed unnatural; it was unnerving. Sitting in the mess and hearing conversation around me felt much better, so I happily chewed on sea biscuits with jam.
“It’s our first full day on the sea,” I said to my companions. “What should we do first?”
“Would you care to see where I spend my time on a ship?” Mr. Ashby flashed a grin. “I should get started on my duties.”
Though I had little understanding of what a purser did, I had no reason to turn down the offer, so Patrice and I agreed to join him in the purser’s office.
After finishing our food and cleaning our plates, he led us into a small room that resembled a study. There were books on shelves and a desk strewn with papers, but nothing else that reminded me of the studies—there were three in total— at Edleroy. There was a window that let in welcome light just behind the desk, along with two lanterns hanging overhead, which would provide more than adequate light at night. As we stood in the doorway, I heard a sigh beside me, though not of exasperation. It sounded like contentment.
Mr. Ashby rubbed his hands together. “This is the true soul of a ship,” he said with a strange excitement.
“I admit to not knowing much about sailing, but I cannot account for why you would think so.”
His eyes twinkled. “That is a very well-placed pun, Miss Findlay. Account.” He chortled as he walked further into the room. That laugh, paired with his preference for a study over the excitement of the decks outside, solidified my impression of him as an academic.
“Considering this ship hasn’t had a purser in several months, I assume things are a mess.” He looked around the room with an air of delight, hands on his hips as he assessed it. “It’s just as I thought. I will look through inventory, provisions, and crew lists to get a clear idea of the situation. I am eager to get started.”
I suddenly worried for his sanity, if this was where he’d be cooped up for the next several weeks or months, depending on the ease of the journey.
He smiled, still focused on the room. “My office is usually much more comfortable and…less dusty. But still, this is where I thrive. With accounts and transactions.”
Helikedbookkeeping. It caused nothing but frustration for most men. Cameron certainly did not revel in it. I would often walk into his study and see him pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to soothe a headache.
I watched Mr. Ashby take his seat at the desk and sift through the mess atop it. He didn’t glance up at Patrice and me, making me wonder if he had forgotten we were there. I met her eyes and we both smiled with amusement. We were gaining more understanding of Mr. Ashby’s character.
Approaching the desk, I leaned over it and took in everything he was doing. Sorting the loose pages by date, from what I could tell. Hebegan murmuring to himself, reading each page he picked up and then putting them in piles. After a moment, he shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. I tilted my head as I noticed his forearms. If he always worked at a desk, why was he so tanned and muscled? When my attention returned to his face, I caught his gaze. His face was full of enthusiasm.
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I…” Did he want to know what I thought of his forearms? No, he couldn’t mean that. “I think your interests rather singular. You prefer this to working above deck?”
He raised one side of his mouth. “Certainly I prefer it. Did you see how hard they worked up there? Far too much sweating and grunting for my taste.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Somehow I doubt that you dislike physical labor as much as you say.” I could not help but glance at his arms and back to his face with question.
“Ah, well, I do own a fleet…” He frowned, but seemed to push his regrets aside as he continued. “Didown a fleet of ships. I have done my share of sailing. I admit there are advantages to it. The sea air is refreshing, and the thrill of climbing high in the rigging is unparalleled. Using one’s body to make such a massive vessel sail across the seemingly endless seas…well, it is satisfying. But this”—he held up the parchment in his hands—“this is where my mind is stimulated.”
“I see. So, what can I do to help?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You want to help with bookkeeping?”
Picking up a page nearest me, I gave it a once-over. “I know everything about running an estate, thanks to my brother, who humored my curiosity. Bookkeeping on a ship cannot be much different.” As if to prove my point, I placed the page in the pile it belonged in. He was looking at me without a hint of surprise. Instead, he seemed pleased.
“As I expected. You are as capable as you are courageous.”
His praise was sudden, so I didn’t quite know how to respond at first. I stared at him for a moment.
He cleared his throat. “That is, Graham’s stories led me to believe such a thing.”
