Page 11

T he port area was bustling, but Birdy was accustomed to the cadence of sails, bells, and loading winches. It was easier to blend into the crowd here, but also more difficult to scout for enemies. While their decision was crucial, they couldn’t afford to waste too much time here.

The port here was shallow and larger ships were docked out in the harbor, forcing them to load and unload their goods by using smaller boats as transport. There was but one passenger ship, but it was headed back to London.

Her father knew many ship captains who tested the waters of piracy in the northern seas during the hostilities. They were all now, as far as she knew, respectable merchant haulers. Regardless, they were seasoned captains, and her father found them trustworthy partners.

“What do you think, Birdy?” Crispin asked, startling her out of her thoughts of home. “There isn’t much here to choose from. Returning to London is out of the question. Two are fishing vessels who will return here after a brief foray into the North Sea. One ship is leaving for Scotland, but not until the day after tomorrow. There’s only one ship left,” he said, pointing to the horizon. “It’s anchored just there. According to the dockmaster, it’s the Agonday .”

“ Agonde ,” Birdy said without thinking. “It floats in the water.”

“Of course it floats,” he replied. “It’s a ship.”

“No. Agonde . It’s an Anishinaabe word. I know that ship,” she added excitedly. “My father does business with the captain. Oh, bother, what is his name? It’s Irish. Kelly! I know Captain Kelly!” Captain Kelly would, out of fealty to her father, provide them with transport to safety. She was sure of it.

“There’s no destination specified on the dockmaster’s board.” From the look on Crispin’s face as he spoke, he already knew what she was thinking.

“Home,” she said, the single word hanging in the air between them for a long time. It was the word her mother whispered to her when she needed guidance. Crispin worked his jaw a few times before he spoke again.

“I had considered this,” he admitted. “Up until last night, it was out of the question. Now all I want to do is keep you safe.”

“Find me a greasy pub,” she said with a smile.

“You’re thirsty?”

“No, that’s what Captain Kelly says. Wherever they stop, he says he looks for a greasy pub to have a drink and a sandwich. Somewhere he’d be able to look out over the harbor and see his ship. If we want to speak with him, we need to find a greasy pub.”

“I can see three pubs from where we’re standing. As to greasy-ness, I cannot say. Let’s start on that end,” he said, pointing to the Double Swan, “And work our way down.”

“Hurry,” she said, suddenly eager to see a familiar face. When he was not found at the Double Swan, they moved on to the Sow’s Teat. But, again, Captain Kelly was nowhere to be seen. Heart-pounding with dread and anticipation, Birdy burst through the doors of a disreputable-looking place whose outdoor shingle advertised as God’s Elbow.

Captain Kelly was there, drunk as a lord and leaning over the bar. When she ran to approach him, Crispin held her back.

“That man?” he asked. “That’s the noble captain who will save us? I wouldn’t let that drunkard walk my dog, let alone pilot a ship over the ocean.”

“He only drinks on shore,” Birdy explained. “He doesn’t touch a drop with the deck under his feet. According to my father, because of this, he doesn’t hold his drink well.”

“Not well? That’s an understatement. Is he sleeping or unconscious? Maybe he’s dead. That would be in keeping with our luck lately.”

“He’s fine. Look, he’s breathing.”

“That’s vomiting. He’s messed himself with puke.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Birdy replied, wrinkling her nose. “See if you can get a cup of warm tea from the barman.” She closed the space between her and Captain Kelly and grabbed his collar to lift him out of his bile.

“Hey-O,” Captain Kelly muttered, opening his eyes a crack. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story. You remember me, don’t you?”

“Course I do. I do. Your name is Kitty. No, wait. Some other animal. Cubby, I think.”

“Birdy Carmody,” she said, introducing herself to a man she’d known for half her life. “Hardy Carmody’s daughter.”

“Ha! Is that son of a bitch here? The luckiest bastard I ever met, Hardy Carmody. I’ll buy him a drink.”

“Captain Kelly?” Crispin returned with a mug of steaming something and rolled his eyes as he placed it on the bar.

“No,” the man shook his head. “I’m Captain Kelly.”

“You’re very drunk.” Crispin pushed the mug a little closer. “I hear there’s a bath house just up the lane. Drink your tea like a good captain and we’ll get you washed up.”

“Tea?”

“Yes. And a bath. You smell bad.”

“I do?” Captain Kelly lifted each arm and took a generous sniff. “Damn! I reek of the bilge.”

“Yes, you do, Captain.” Birdy tried again to get him to take a swallow of tea. “I need your help, and I need you to sober up.”

“Hardy needs my help?”

“Hardy’s daughter needs your help,” she explained as patiently as she could.

“Well, then,” he said, grabbing up the mug and taking a generous swallow. “I’m going to need two more of these.”

“Whatever you need. I’ll bring it to the bathhouse.”

As promised, Birdy delivered hot tea while he washed off the stink. There was little point in explaining their dilemma until he was sober enough to fully understand.

“When does your ship leave?”

“When I say so. Calm down, it ain’t leaving without me.”

“What is your heading?”

“I head out to the sea and take a sharp left.”

“I’m about to punch you in the mouth, Captain Kelly. My family is in danger, and I need answers now.” Crispin’s hands were balled into fists as he spoke.

“Well, who the hell are you? I don’t know you.”

“Captain Kelly, that’s my husband, Lord Morgan,” Birdy explained for the second time.

“A lord? Oh, mercy, your father must be over the moon. He said he’d get you a prince. There’s only a couple of those, and they ain’t much to look at.”

“Yes,” Crispin said with exasperation. “A lord. Lord Morgan. Birdy is my wife, and we need your help to get away from this place. Someone is trying to kill us.” Crispin’s words sobered Captain Kelly faster than any amount of tea ever would.

“We leave tomorrow with the tide. I’ll have a couple of my men row you out to the Agonde tonight. Gather your things.”

“All we have is what we can carry in our arms.”

“You know better than that, Miss Carmody.”

“Lady Morgan,” Crispin corrected.

“Lady Morgan,” Captain Kelly stood in the bath and executed a perfect bow.

“I didn’t pay to have you soak here all night,” Crispin said, throwing the man a towel to cover himself.

“Gather supplies here while you can. Prices will be twice as high in Québec. Buy yourself some good shoes. Leather soled for the sea, sturdy boots for the rest of the journey. Woolen coats too with hats and scarves. Plenty of socks, silk, cotton, and wool. The north passage is cold no matter what time of year.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Birdy remembered the long journey to England and mourned the loss of so many of her traveling clothes. Grimsby wouldn’t offer much in the way of fashion, but she should be able to pull together enough things to keep them warm and comfortable.

With Luke by her side and Mr. Johnstone sitting comfortably at the Double Swan, Birdy ran through the local shops, gathering all that she could. Rather than her regular allowance, before he left, her father had gifted her an astonishing amount of money. He’d called it a wedding gift but explained that based on Crispin’s father’s behavior at the church, when he did not stand up to defend his own son, he feared Crispin would soon be cut off from the family coffers.

Her fortune was sewn into the hem of her clothes. Crispin never asked where her money came from and did not realize it was the cause of her desperation in gathering her clothing when the fire broke out. She had enough to pay for their new gear as well as the passage hidden inside her leather stockings.

Her moccasins held enough gold to buy a new coach. They could rent a house for a year using the fringed end of her shawl. Wishing she had enough money to put an end to their troubles, she steered Luke toward a coat.

“Try it on,” she said as she tried to smile. The boy was eager for their journey but had not yet realized his father wasn’t coming. It wasn’t her place to tell him. Mr. Johnstone had made his wishes clear.

“It feels funny,” he said, frowning.

“It’s oilskin. It’s what the sailors wear. It will keep you dry when the wind is blowing salt water everywhere. Have you enough underthings?”

“Aw, milady, I’m too old for you to be seeing my unmentionables.”

“And yet I need to ensure you have them. By the way,” she asked, “How old are you?”

“Eighteen.”

She took in his soft, fine whiskers and barely discernable mustache, and his gangling limbs. He was as awkward as a newborn foal and hadn’t grown into himself yet. “Liar. Try again. If we’re to travel together, we need to be able to trust one another.”

He blushed. “Nearly fourteen. My birthday is in August. Not sure which day, but August for sure. Gosh, you don’t think I’ll get seasick, do you?”

“I certainly hope not. We’ll stop by the chemist before we leave and get some dried ginger.”

“Milady, I’m so excited I’m about to burst. I ain’t never been on a ship before. I can’t wait to show my father my new kit. We should have him come get his things, too.”

“He’s a grown man,” Birdy explained, her heart sore with sadness for the man and his son. “He doesn’t need my help to choose clothes. I’ll settle with the store for this lot. Why don’t you meet your father at the Double Swan? Here,” she said, handing him a coin, “Get yourself something to eat and I’ll meet you there in a little bit.” Tempting a teenage boy with food was an easy bet. She might force Mr. Johnstone’s hand, but they’d be rowed out to the Agonde in a matter of hours. If he was going to tell the boy, he’d better do it quickly.

Laden down with packages, she made her way back to the dock where Captain Kelly said they’d be leaving for the ship. Crispin was supposed to meet her there, but he was nowhere to be seen. While the activity of the docks felt familiar and reminded her of home, every minute away from him was now filled with worry that their attacker would strike again. This dock wasn’t on an island where she knew everyone. She’d allowed herself to become complacent and how she was alone. Fighting the urge to run up and down the dock yelling out his name, she quickened her steps until stopped by a familiar voice.

“Birdy Carmody, is that you?” Turning quickly, she let her packages tumble to the ground while she drew her knife and faced the voice.

“Hey,” the man raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, Davy Cooper. We’ve met. Your father knows me.”

“What ship are you on?” she asked, noticing he was dressed as a sailor. The name sounded familiar, but in her panic, she couldn’t remember how.

“I crew for the Agonde under Captain Kelly,” he answered cautiously. “Didn’t mean to bother you. I was just surprised to see you here. I didn’t know you were in England. Hey,” he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” she replied, swallowing down her fear. “I’m to board the Agonde. I remember you,” she said with relief. “You sing.”

“Aye, I’m a real songbird. Captain Kelly is in the pub. I’ll go fetch him if you’d like.” As he spoke, Davy picked up her scattered parcels.

“I’ve seen the captain, and he’s agreed to provide passage. Would you,” she said, angry at the quiver in her voice, “Stay with me a bit?” Her worry for Crispin was clouding her judgment and her heart was breaking for Luke Johnstone. By now, the boy would have heard his father’s plan. Where was Crispin? He should be here with Captain Kelly.

Unless something had gone wrong. She was starting to worry like her husband.

“Here,” Davy said, as he led her to a wooden crate. “You should sit.”

Hiding her shaking hands in her skirts, Birdy closed her eyes and tried to calm her nerves. If something had happened to Crispin while they were apart, she would never forgive herself. The constant threat of violence was exhausting and played havoc with her mind. What quirk of fate threw them together like this?

Neither one had ever spoken the words. Three brief words. I love you . Why had she been so stubborn in refusing to utter them until he said them first? It happened just as her mother said it would. She could not imagine her life without him. It happened so quickly. So quietly. And yet it required work. She had to know when to pry and know when to listen, observe in silence, and respond to needs. It was quick, but her mother never mentioned it didn’t come without effort.

Heart leaping in her chest as she spotted Luke walking toward her; her spirits sunk again when she recognized the look of sadness on his face. His father must have told him he wouldn’t be joining them on their journey.

“Luke,” she called him over with open arms. He buried his face in her shoulder to hide his tears, a boy for sure now instead of the man he’d claimed to be. Putting her arms around him, she struggled for the right words. There were none. “Sit with me,” she said at last.

“His lordship is on his way,” he said when he could speak, lifting his face from her shoulder. His cheeks were pink and his eyes swollen. “My father is returning the horses to Doncaster and will find more work there.”

“I’m sorry he won’t be joining us.” Knowing the full story, Birdy could offer little solace without revealing Johnstone’s secret.

He wiped at his eyes with his fingers. “He says I’m a man now and need to find my own way. Someday, when I come back, I’ll find him on the North Road and tell him about all the amazing places I’ve seen.”

“He’ll enjoy that.” Birdy could say no more. They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes until Crispin and Captain Kelly approached. Her husband was safe.

“Everything’s settled,” Crispin said, holding out his arms to her.

“I love you,” she blurted out, throwing herself into his arms. “I love you, Crispin Morgan.”