Read Annalea, Princess of Nemusmar Page 30

Generally speaking, I take me prideful, cock-ready boasts quite seriously. And I attempt to fulfill such promises as if they were rightful bargains, committed upon serious consideration. So the next day, I voluntarily abstained from the grape, to ensure the crystal clarity of me august wisdom was at the ready–and was eloquently dispensed to this impressionable young mind. At dusk–being properly cleaned and presentably dressed–I moved to join Oglethorpe and offspring on deck.

  I can't vouch for Oglethorpe's description of his daughter as pallid; her complexion went to beet red when I approached them. She instantly vanished behind him, having to crimp herself down–as she was the same height as her father. Oglethorpe seemed amusedly flustered, but he quickly composed hisself and gave me greeting. Actually, he overacted his surprise at our "chance" meeting: as if everybody did not expect to see everybody else, each and every day, in such confines as these. Then–all too suddenly–he excused hisself for nature and modesty's sake, and hastened below decks.

  For just a moment, the daughter was stunned by the suddenness and uncharacteristic impetuousness of her father's actions. But I knew this bird would quickly take wing, so I put me arm around her shoulder–as if to embrace her, but most to prevent her flight. The poor thing was now full stunned and seemingly cringing in on herself. To stem the tidal flow of tears I saw welling towards the surface, I abruptly gave her a pinch on one cheek and a peck on the other, and flung out a compliment as quick as you please. "Oh me goodness! Are you not just a vision of feminine loveliness, this eve? I'd be right flattered if such an attractive woman as yourself would walk about with me, awhile, just while we await your father's return. Would you accompany me awhile, me sweetest deary?"

  Then I cast a broad grin upon her, hoping to appear kind and warm and sincere–and harmless. She studied me countenance a moment, then thought her private thought, and then agreed–gleefully. Suddenly, gleefully. Well, me personal charm has oft' been commented upon. But to have such impact, and change gloom to glee? Marvelous!

  As we promenaded 'cross the deck, she wrapped her arm around mine; but she kept her face down, and her eyes fixed to the boards. I could glimpse a faint smile and a still bright blush upon her face. Now that I'd so easily and obviously charmed her over, 'twas time to impart me wise counsel to this confused cherub, and thus convey her spirits into the light. (I remember thinking something like that.)

  "Now, darling girl, there is just you and me out here in the moonlight. Ignore all others–and the boards 'neath your feet–as if we were stepping out alone, 'cross the deck, off the stern of the ship, and walking directly over the waves."

  Those words seemed to comfort her, and put wonder in her eyes. I just walked and followed her gaze. When I could see stars reflected in those eyes, I continued me sermon.

  Cutting boldly to the heart of the matter, I told her I knew what made her reticent of speech, and reluctant of company: embarrassment–embarrassment and shame. I abruptly cut off any denial on her part. I told her I knew 'cause I'd seen it, written on her face, from the first I come 'round that corner that day and interrupted their cozy clutch–her, the sister and Annalea–through each accidental encounter with her from that day to this. Embarrassment and shame!

  "No one can prevent your embarrassment, love. You alone determine what embarrasses you; and, 'twould seem to me, you allow near everything to embarrass you. But that is almost an attraction in a girl like yourself: the reaction of sincere–if naive–innocence, as opposed to the affected coyness displayed by some young maidens. As to your shame, me darling: you've not in this life to be ashamed of. For the first part, contrary to what you've convinced yourself of, I've not told a soul–including your father–the details of what transpired on that particular day, nor a word of any conversation I overheard."

  I told her she was a bit too sensitive and, mayhaps, a wee too innocent for her own good. She's a young woman now. She should expect to function and feel fully as a woman. There is no shame in that. There is no shame in wondering about that and talking about that–and even giggling about that. And there's no shame in being overheard in such by a man. A man like meself, who knows people and understands women–I told her–finds nothing shameful nor silly in such natural curiosity and frank discussion.

  By now, she was quite obviously feeling very good about herself. She embraced me, practically in a hug, as we walked on–and I held her rapt attention. I was very impressed with me; 'twas going so well!

  "But you know, pet, curiosity is an avaricious but insatiable animal. And talk–while always a pleasant amusement–can be of limited value, as well. You may find yourself spurred on by curiosity to ask a thousand questions of a thousand people, and never receive a satisfying answer. Were I to tell you of the exotic places to which I've travelled, and the strangeness of the peoples I've encountered, you'd no doubt be fascinated and bewildered–and, mayhaps, a wee bit beguiled. Mere words most oft' fail us when we attempt to describe in detail that which is truly a coupling of physical and emotional experience: a perception that is registered by the eye, but interpreted by the spirit. Until you've been where I've been, seen what I've seen, and experienced that which I've experienced, you cannot truly know of it–nor truly feel you understand it. And once you've been and seen and done and felt and lived with it all, you may agree or not with me actual perception–or me inadequate interpretation–of these things. But that would be of no matter; 'cause at that moment–for yourself, alone–you would know all of it."

  She put her arms 'round me neck, and with the palm of her hands, gently moved me head downward to place me face against hers.

  "Ummm," she purred. "Now I understand!"

  She gave me a large, warm kiss on the lips and released me: dashing off into the night, presumedly to meet up with her father. In her wake, I swear I could hear giggly, singing sounds of contentment. What a success! I was most pleased with meself, that night!