January 4th, 1784—Tomorrow we should reach Charlestown, where we will wait out the weather. Lisbeth will be leaving.
“I’LL MISS THIS. The end of day isn’t such a spectacle on land,” Liam said.
“Mayhap it is in America. Ye’ll note we’ve seen a lot more of the sun since leaving home, no’ near as much of the rain. Things are different. I wonder if it causes much grief to the farmers.”
“Jesus, Davey.”
“Just wondering.”
They sat quietly, each lost in thought, as dusk turned to night and the colors of the sunset faded. One by one the stars appeared, and the ocean soon glittered with diamonds. They had spent many evenings like this in the last two months. Now it was coming to an end, and fast. No longer was there an illusion that they were alone in the world. It was not uncommon to spot another vessel, and land was clearly in sight. He sighed. He, too, would miss this.
He spotted Elisabeth, alone, walking in their direction.
“Lisbeth, are ye looking for someone?” Liam called out.
She jumped. “You startled me. I didn’t see you in the dark. I believe I was looking for David.” She sat in front of David, resting her back against his raised knees.
Liam cast a puzzled look at David. Likely speculating over her familiarity. David shrugged, and Liam jumped up. “Last night and all. I’ll be seeing the both of ye in a wee bit, I hear Seamus starting up his fiddle on the foredeck.”
“Aye, Liam,” David said. “We’ll join ye shortly.” He turned back to Elisabeth. “Are ye feeling well enough, Elisabeth?”
“No.”
He recognized well the emotions behind the simple answer. Parting his knees, he brought his arms up around her and pulled her back to rest against his chest holding her tight while they watched the night sky.
Just when he thought she may have fallen asleep, she turned in his arms, her face mere inches from his. He loosened his hold. “Would ye like to go listen to the music, dance a bit?’
“No.” She reached up and smoothed his hair from his forehead.
He squirmed backwards a bit, and she smiled. “I’m making you uncomfortable.”
He chuckled. “And that makes ye happy?”
“Yes, it does. You’re always so sure of yourself. I admire it; it’s one of the reasons I feel drawn to you. But I do like to think I have some effect on you.”
“Oh aye, I think ye can be sure of that.”
She brought her hand down to trace his cheek. “Do you?” She put her finger over his lips against any response and lay her head on his shoulder, her palm on his chest. He rested his chin on the top of her head and drew her in close again.
He enjoyed holding her, and if she wasn’t worried about her father just now, he’d follow her lead. The weight of her felt good. She was warm, soft, and . . . wet?
“Elisabeth? Ye’re no’ crying, are ye, lass?” He tried to lift her face from his chest. She burrowed deeper, her shoulders shaking.
“I don’t—can’t bear—what if you never—” She was sobbing in earnest now. It was difficult to decipher her words.
He gave up trying to lift her face and instead held her, rocking her, whispering all the while. “It’s all right, Bess, ye don’t need to cry. I’ll be doing anything ye ask of me. Just ask, you know that. Stop crying, lass, please.” He kissed her forehead and down the side of her face, moving his mouth to the crook of her neck. Eventually her crying slowed and he cradled her face in his hand, kissing each eyelid and the tears on her cheeks.
“No, wait,” she said, pulling a cloth from her sleeve. She dropped her head, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. She hiccupped and looked up at him, mortified, placing her hand over her mouth. He laughed and reached for her hand to kiss her palm, her fingers, the inside of her wrist. She sighed, and he returned his lips to the side of her neck, working his way up and over to her mouth. He felt the tremors run through her as she started to cry again, and he brought his mouth to hers, gently probing her lips open with his tongue. She put her arms around his neck and eagerly pulled him toward her, her crying forgotten.
Later, much later, she pulled away to look at him. He groaned and tried to pull her back. Laughing, she turned her back to him, pulling his arms tight around her. “You do like me,” she said.
“What nonsense is that? Ye know what I feel for you,” he said, returning his attentions to the side of her neck.
“Really? And now how should I know that? To see you, I have to seek you out. Then most of the time I’m with you, you take undue pains not to touch me. So forgive me for not knowing you like me as well as you like, well, say . . . Mrs. Andrews.”
He snorted. “Mrs. Andrews cooks my meals, lass.” He held her tight as she struggled against him.
“And, I can count on one hand the times you’ve bothered to kiss me. It’s my last night to be with you. Just look at all the time you’ve wasted.”
He chuckled. “Aye, and I’m thinking that’s a good thing; otherwise I’d likely be well past satisfied with a kiss.” His hand moved up and down her arm, his teeth nibbled the soft spot where her shoulder met her neck.
She shivered. “David? I’m just going to come out and say it, since you won’t. Promise me you’ll make time to see me, that you won’t forget me. You’ll have more freedom than I will.”
“I promise. I willna forget you, it’s no’ possible. You’re never far from my thoughts. I thought ye knew. I’ll no’ let ye go easy. There’s no’ a chance in hell the ache of missing ye will soften.” He turned her back to face him. “Now, we have till morning, so who is it that’s wasting time now?”
HE WOKE WITH A start at the hand on his shoulder.
“It’s almost dawn, David. The lass needs to get back before dawn.”
Elisabeth looked up, sleepily, then closed her eyes again, snuggling deeper into his arms.
“Aye, thanks, Liam.” He didn’t want to take her back. But Liam was right, the ship’s bell rang out two bells, and it would be dawn in an hour or two. He stood and carried her, keeping her in his arms until he reached the passageway of her cabin. He set her on her feet.
“Lisbeth, can ye walk? I shouldna be carrying ye to your doorstep.” She turned and leaned against him, looping her arms around his waist, murmuring something incoherent. He pressed her back against the wall and leaned in to kiss her. She woke quickly then, pulling him closer, returning his kiss eagerly.
“Goodbye, Bess,” he whispered, pulling away. She didn’t speak, just looked at him as her eyes filled.
“Oh no, ye don’t,” he said. “I’ll see ye soon, I promise.” He gently grabbed her shoulders, turning her toward the companionway. He waited as she descended, turning only when she was out of sight. He needed an hour or two of sleep himself.
HE STAYED BELOW when the boat came to take the Hales to shore. He couldn’t face watching her go, couldn’t take the chance he’d cry like a lass.
Liam came down, tried to rout him from his berth. “Up with ye mate, ye need to see her off.”
He covered his face with his forearm and turned away. “Too many eyes, Liam. Leave me alone. I said my goodbyes last night.”
Liam pulled him back round to face him. “I’m no’ suggesting a reenactment of last night, only a wee acknowledgement her going means something to ye. A lass likes a bit of a public declaration, I shouldna have to tell ye that. She’s my friend too, and I don’t care to see her searching the faces for ye. Ye know well she’ll get to thinking ye couldn’t be bothered to see her off. Or her da willna miss the opportunity to convince her of it. Is that what you’re aiming for?”
David moved his arm from his face and looked at Liam, considering. “The boat; it’s still here then?”
“Maybe, was loading just a bit ago. Could be gone by now, though, long as it took to talk some sense into ye.”
David leapt from the berth and ran up the ladder. Pushing his way through the others, he reached the forefront of the crowd just as the crew of the longboat cast of
f.
“Elisabeth,” he called. “Elisabeth!” She looked up and spotted him, her face brightening at once. “I’ll see ye soon, lass, aye?” He kissed the palm of his hand and turned it toward her.
Astonished, she gave him a brilliant smile. “Aye, David, soon,” she called back. Kissing her palm, she returned the gesture, ignoring her father’s admonition not to make a spectacle of herself. The boat cast off, and he watched it go, long past the time he was able to make out her face.
January 5, 1784—Bess and her father have left the ship at Charlestown.
18
America
January 1784