“Who…are you?”
A ringing began in my ears and I blinked at this man who had already broken my heart at least a dozen times.Who am I? I’m the woman who crossed an ocean for you!Those words didn’t come out, however, but stuck in my throat. I suddenly felt incredibly weak, asif my body remembered I’d been starving for days. An overwhelming dizziness consumed me and everything blurred before I fell to the deck.
Chapter 17
IheardvoicesasifI were underwater, and I half wondered if I’d fallen overboard. But I felt hands on my arms and my head lying on someone’s lap. I tried to see whose it was, but there were only blurry faces above me. Far too many faces, peering at me like I was a fascinating creature in a cage.
“Elsie, answer me,” I heard Mr. Ashby’s voice say. I looked straight above me, and my eyes focused enough that I could see the worry in his eyes, his brows deeply creased. His lips were parted, dry and cracked from lack of water. His skin was peeling from days of being exposed to the sun. I must have looked the same. “Elsie, can you hear me?” he asked.
“Move aside,” someone said. The crowd who had been staring at me made way for an average-looking man wearing spectacles. He bent over me and checked my face for a second before lifting a canteen to my mouth and bidding me to drink blessed, glorious water.
I grabbed the canteen and drank deeply, the liquid spilling down my neck and onto the deck.
“All right, that’s enough. You’ll waste it.” The man pulled it back and I was left wanting more. “She seems fine, just collapsed from lack of food and water.” He said this to Mr. Ashby, who was still holding me against him. As if he had no intention of ever letting me go.
I looked up at him again, seeing him watching the man who’d given me water with an expression like gratitude. He met my eyes and gave me a hint of a smile. Then, as if he’d just remembered what had occurred before I fainted, he lifted his head to look at one of the people standing over us.
“What do you mean ‘Who are you?’ What are you playing at?” His voice was hoarse but severe.
Following his gaze, I saw who he spoke to.Graham. That hadn’t been a dream? My eyes widened and I stared at Graham Anderson, the man I loved, who had actually said those words to me. “Who…are you?” My heart thudded. Surely he didn’t mean that. But as Graham looked between Mr. Ashby and me, the evidence was clear as day. He did not recognize either of us.
“Is she the woman in your pocket watch, Slate?” the woman from earlier said.Slate? Graham glanced at her and then back at me warily.
He shook his head. “I…dinnae ken.”
Mr. Ashby helped me sit up and looked around with frustration. I could feel the buzz of it from my position against him. He narrowed his glare on Graham. “What’s going on here? Graham, what is the meaning of this?”
He looked at Patrice, who I’d barely noticed sitting next to me. She’d been so quiet and still. “Help me,” he said before standing. Patrice took hold of me and he moved toward Graham. He looked up into his face, scrutinizing him. “What is wrong with you?”
The woman stepped between them, holding off Mr. Ashby. Her kind face had transformed into the tense expression of a warrior. “That’s enough. Don’t treat him that way. It’s not his fault he doesn’t remember you.”
Mr. Ashby went quiet and waited, as I did, for some explanation. I couldn’t stop watching Graham. He put a hand behind his head andrubbed his neck nervously. He seemed as if he would run away at any moment. Was this truly my Graham? I had never seen him look so anxious before.
“He was found nearly beaten to death in Basseterre and woke up without a single memory of his past, except his name.” The woman spoke with hands on her hips, standing in front of Graham like his protector.
“He doesn’t remember…anything?” Mr. Ashby’s voice was quiet, but loud enough for everyone to hear. He glanced back at me as I stood and slowly walked forward with Patrice’s help.
I approached Graham—or tried. The woman still stood in the way. Her hard gaze almost made me back up, but I didn’t. I raised my eyebrows at her and spoke with precise diction. “I am his betrothed.”
Her mouth opened slightly, closed, and then opened again. She wanted to say something, but I’d apparently rendered her speechless. She stepped aside and I was able to stand right in front of the man I’d once given my heart to.
“Do you truly not remember me?” I asked him in a near whisper.
Graham looked around again with helpless confusion before shaking his head. “I-I’m sorry, Miss…”
It took every bit of effort I had to not cry. I lifted my chin and told him exactly who I was. “Elspeth Findlay of Edleroy Castle. You and I have been bonded together since we were young. We made a promise to marry three years ago, when you returned from your business ventures in the West Indies.” I gestured to the exotically beautiful woman behind us. “She said…you have a likeness of me in your pocket watch. I gave that to you.” My eyes never left his face, but he looked around as if asking for assistance. “I came to find you, Graham. I was worried something had happened to you. And apparently…something has.” I frowned deeper, my heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces as I watched him. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt.” Then I saw a scar on the side of his head stretching from his hairline to his eyebrow. I reached out to touch it and he flinched away.
Our eyes met. His had always been so open and familiar. They’d been so uniquely his, but now they were like any other brown eyes I’d seen. I didn’t recognize them at all. I clenched my jaw once again to keep from crying.
The entire ship had become nearly silent as they watched our interaction. Only the creaking of the wood sounded as it swayed in the waves. Then a loudboomdistracted everyone from the drama unfolding before them. We all looked around with alarm.
“Cannon fire!” someone called from above. “A ship’s being attacked!”
Without further ado, everyone scrambled to their positions and the crew began yelling to each other. Graham left me and joined the sailors in their practiced drills.
“Away, aloft!” a tall, lean man yelled from the quarterdeck. The foreshrouds darkened with climbing sailors. The lines were loosened and then taut as the sails filled, pushing the ship in the direction of the cannon fire.
“Why are they goingtowardthe sounds of war?” I said incredulously to Mr. Ashby and Patrice, who’d surrounded me. We exchanged worried glances.
