* * *
Her life in Charleston was organized by months; on the Intrepid the cycle was weekly. The Marines practiced shooting on Tuesday, rain or shine. The gun crews were exercised every Monday and Thursday. Maddie found Friday particularly entertaining when the topmen practiced furling and unfurling the sails, their toes taking precarious hold of the ropes as they prepared for a war that the officers insisted was just over the horizon.
The crew had certain days set aside for washing their clothes, their bodies and even the sails. Once she was accustomed to the routine, Maddie found it comforting to know exactly what would happen every day at a given time. She never interrupted anything, she never disturbed anyone, and she soon blended in, accepted by the powder monkeys as their equal, an orphan without a real home.
The lieutenants were like brothers to her, teasing and complimenting in turns. She was often invited to drink tea with them, and they let her play with their pet dog during the day when they were all busy with their duties. Having friends in influential places proved to be of great benefit as the ship headed north and the temperature dipped. If not for Lt. Yakes, she might have frozen half to death, but he acted as her go-between to purchase a pair of wool trousers from the purser, in exchange for a silver hair comb that Maddie dug out of the bottom of her trunk. She refused to be sorry that she had left her warmer underthings behind.
In keeping with naval custom, Maddie reported to her station on the middle gun deck whenever the crew was beaten to quarters. Determined to match the fearless spirit of her powder monkey colleagues, she moved along the gun deck without complaint at the weight of the shot she was required to deliver to the gun crews. Edmund praised her for her bravery, which was silly because no one was shooting back and it was easy to distribute anything in such safety.
Because they were at peace, the lieutenants decided to allow Maddie to fire one of the thirty-two pounders during a Thursday drill. On the appointed morning, she kept a close eye on Lt. Yakes, ready to snap to attention like a proper gunner. The empty barrels that served as targets were tossed overboard, the cannonading commenced, and the excitement of the competition between the crews surged through Maddie until she could not keep still. Her ears rang with the concussions, one after another after another until half the shot were expended. At last, the lanyard was in her hand, the order given, and she pulled with all her strength. The gun rocked back on its carriage and a cheer went up. To a man, they claimed that Miss Ashford’s shot had sunk the barrel. Their words, however, were muffled, as if Maddie were underwater.
If not for the activity of the gunners and the rush of the mess captains, Maddie would never have known that the ship’s bell had rung. Leaving the men to their only hot meal of the day, she drifted down to the sick bay to ask the surgeon for the use of his botany book, but he was with the Admiral. “As I’d imagine you should be, miss,” the surgeon’s mate said.
Meals had become Maddie’s last lingering source of melancholy. The ship’s cook had no idea how to prepare rice pilau properly, and he was a stranger to the spices that were commonplace in any Charleston kitchen. She wished she could dine on salt horse and ship’s biscuit with her friends, to share a meal with them instead of sitting in silence with a man who was determined to extract a sentence out of her. Sitting on the ladder midway between the gun deck and the quarterdeck, Maddie pondered the wisdom of going hungry for the remainder of the voyage. She was startled by the clatter of shoe heels on wood.
“Where have you been?” Edmund asked. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her hand and started back up the ladder. “You’ll kiss the gunner’s daughter for this, and be lucky if you are not confined to quarters for the remainder of the cruise.”
The Marine captain who guarded the cabin took one look at her and shook his head with disappointment. He might have said something, but Maddie was still half-deaf as she followed behind Edmund, who was intent on keeping her hidden. It made it difficult for her to see who was in the cabin, but she could tell that the men standing near the Admiral were all captains and she had never met them before. A disaster in the making, for she would be introduced and not hear their names, which would be followed by acts of perceived rudeness when she did not appear to recall what she had actually never heard. The long drape of the damask cloth on the dining table beckoned, a refuge where she might hide until she could crawl across the sitting area and creep into the sleeping cabin.
Two eyes as black as night glared at Maddie, shooting flames of anger that burned straight through to her heart. Peels of laughter filled the room, echoed from the beams and doubled in volume. Without breaking his gaze, the Admiral opened the door to the sleeping cabin and crooked his finger at Maddie. Step by tiny step, she walked around the table and edged into the cabin.
“You have disobeyed my direct order that you be present when our guests arrived,” he said. He could have liquidated her with the acid in his tone, sent her dripping through the seams in the deck, to pool in the bilge with the rats.
“My apologies, sir,” she said.
“God in Heaven,” he thundered. “Have you nothing more to say?”
“No, sir.”
“You have disgraced your mother’s name by your reprehensible conduct,” he said. “And your inexcusable appearance. Your dress in tatters, and are those trousers, miss?”
Tears sprouted and no amount of willpower would keep them in check. She wiped her cheeks, only to find that her hands were black from the powder.
“You will apologize to my captains.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Until further notice, you will remain here and reflect on your conduct. Be grateful that I do not clap you in irons, and I am sorely tempted. Sorely tempted.” He put a hand on the doorknob but paused. “What of the Ten Commandments? Did you never learn that God commands you to honor your father?”
His words fired a surge of anger, mingled with memories of happy times and fears of what was to come, all because of the Admiral’s existence. Because her mother had preferred such a man to her daughter. A wave of powerful emotion washed over her and she lifted her chin, to offer her oppressor an unblinking glare of defiance. To her surprise, the Admiral flinched.