At the mention of Graham, I straightened my shoulders. “I may as well have a purpose on this ship. Give me an occupation or I shall go mad.”
“Aye, Mr. Ashby, she’ll make the journey unbearable for us all,” Patrice added.
The corners of Mr. Ashby’s eyes crinkled in a suppressed smile. “Very well. I’ll go through all this and divide the assignments between the three—”
“Two, if ye please. I dinnae know how to read.” Patrice crossed her arms.
I exchanged a glance with Mr. Ashby, shrugging. “I’ve offered to teach her. She refuses me at every attempt.” In my opinion, her refusal stemmed from a lack of confidence. She could do anything that required coordination or dexterity, but disliked formal education.
“I can find other things to do. Dinnae worry about me,” she assured us.
While Patrice busied herself dusting and straightening the books on the shelves, I sat across from Mr. Ashby and watched him work. He was engrossed in it, so I took advantage of the uninterrupted time to study him. He hadn’t struck me as handsome at first. The longer I spent in his company, however, the more intriguing—if not attractive—he became. He wasn’t as tall or broad as Graham, though I’d noticed his muscular build. His hair was bleached from the sun and his skin was tanned. Neither attribute was looked upon favorably in society, and yet, it suited him. His blue eyes reminded me of Melody’s,although much more azure than sapphire. Like the bluest sky in the middle of summer.
Those sky-blue eyes met mine, and I didn’t pretend as if I hadn’t been staring. I simply smiled at him. “Ready to hand out assignments?”
He chuckled. “Did you glean anything of interest from watching me?”
“You’re rather intuitive.” I didn’t feel embarrassed, and therefore spoke nonchalantly.
“Only a corpse wouldn’t be able to feel your eyes on him.” He leaned back in his chair. “Your stare is very…direct. It sends chills down a man’s spine.” He shivered for effect.
“You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me so.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He laughed and slid a few stacks of papers toward me, along with a leather-bound ledger. “Here’s our first project.”
Mr. Ashby explained it to me briefly without condescension. I appreciated being treated as a colleague; Cameron certainly never thought of me that way. We worked for a few hours—if my internal clock was correct—and Patrice was napping in the only cozy chair in the room. She shifted in her seat with a groan. I stood and stretched, rolling my neck to work out the kinks. I began to sway with the movement of the ship and had to take hold of the desk for support.
“With your help, we shall be finished sorting all this before the end of the week. Then what will we find to keep you occupied?” Mr. Ashby said.
Patrice let out a loud snore, making Mr. Ashby and me laugh. I responded to him as I leaned against the desk. “What, indeed. I wonder, would it be completely inappropriate for me to learn how to sail?”
Mr. Ashby lifted his eyes to the ceiling, considering. He met my gaze again and nodded with a half-smile. “Undoubtedly. But considering you’re a runaway, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to hold back on account of propriety.”
That response pleased me, so I grinned at him. I once again felt certain about my decision to elect him as my guide. Graham had chosen his business partner well. If I knew nothing else about Mr. Ashby, Graham’s trust in him would have been enough. But each day brought new reasons to trust him, and to enjoy his company. I hoped Graham would be glad of our friendship.
Chapter 8
Weworkedalongsideeachother for a few days, all the while telling stories of Graham. I learned that Mr. Ashby saw him as a brother, someone he could rely on wholly for strength and support.
He had leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the feather on his quill as he spoke with a slight smile. “If I didn’t know what to do, inevitably Graham did. I’m adept at bargaining and finding investors. Graham has a head for legal matters and working through trade restrictions.”
He set down his quill and stood, walking to a cabinet to look for something. “Once, we were stopped by a blockade in a place we had been a few times before.” He pulled out a ledger, then looked at me as he continued his story. “Apparently, there had been some naval upheaval. Most ships moved on, but not Graham. It would have cost us thousands of pounds and several days’ worth of rations if we didn’t stop at that port.”
He sat again. “So, he deftly found the right person and made his case using legal phrases I didn’t understand. He gave proof we were eligible to trade there, regardless of restrictions from new treaties. Without his knowledge of the ever-changing laws and power struggles in the West Indies, we never would have gotten so far.”
I nodded, smiling to myself as I recalled conversations with Graham. I looked down at the desk. “He wanted to study law. If not for needing to support his mother, he probably would have.”
“Perhaps if our business had succeeded, hecouldhave.” Mr. Ashby sighed.
I nodded, then continued writing as I had been doing before our conversation began.
I remembered well when Graham’s dream of studying law was shattered. He had been coming to Edleroy every summer for years, happily playing with Cam and me without much care for the future. But then his father died, leaving them with nothing.
Graham sat near the river, throwing rocks. The look on his face made my young sixteen-year-old heart break. I had loved him for years, wishing that he’d see me as I saw him. Whatever I wished, however, he was going through something difficult, and I was his friend. I sat down next to him, watching him from the corner of my eye while I threw in a few pebbles of my own.
He stopped and looked over at me. “What are ye doin’ here?” I could hear the tears in his voice. He’d been crying.
I shrugged. “I thought throwing rocks looked fun. Figured I’d join you.”
