Page 11 of The Captain’s Valentine (The “Other” Trents #3)
Despite the established status of their relationship, it did not change the fact that Harrison still wanted to kiss Perdita and why he had voiced his reasons for not doing so. However, as her friend, he would not need to be concerned with how much time he spent in her company without her expecting a courtship.
“You truly have no wish to wed?”
He found it difficult to believe that Perdita did not want that for herself. He’d been raised to believe that it was what all women wanted, except, that was also the perception of men. He and Perdita had already discussed that there were few options for women. It was acceptable for a man to want to remain a bachelor for as long as possible yet it was anticipated that every woman wanted to wed the moment they stepped from the schoolroom.
“Only one thing could tempt me to be a wife.”
“I assume that it is not a kiss from me.”
“No, Captain Trent.”
She laughed.
“If we are to be friends, please call me Harrison.”
“Very well, Harrison.”
“What would tempt you away from a future status of spinster?”
“Love, of course.”
She answered with a grin. “If I am to spend what remains of my life with a man, as his wife, there must be a deep love, or life would be quite miserable.”
“Are you claiming that you do not love me?”
He placed a hand over his heart again.
Perdita laughed. “I confess that you have not yet stolen my heart. But if it is any consolation, I do believe I like you very much.”
“And I find I like you as well.”
“Ah, so friends it is.”
Her smile brightened the night.
“I do believe that I will find myself most honored to call you friend, Perdita.”
“I, as well, Harrison.”
She was so certain of what she wanted, why couldn’t he be? At one time he was, but it had shifted, changed.
“Have you ever been uncertain of what you wanted?”
She glanced up at him from the corner of her eye and frowned. “We are no longer talking about kisses, are we?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “No.”
“What is your uncertainty? As we are now friends, you can tell me and I promise not to tell a living soul.”
Oddly, he had full trust in Perdita, which was something he had learned not to have in anyone who moved about in Society, but she was different. “I am not certain what my next course should be. What I was once certain of is now more a question.”
“Ah, the crossroads of indecision.”
She grew a little more serious. “Does one go with the head because it is wise to do so, or the heart because of longing? Is it that type of crossroads you are currently at?”
“Yes, what does one do?”
He really wanted her to answer for him. “I fear that neither my head nor my heart is speaking loud enough to help me make a decision.”
“Everyone’s crossroads is different and decisions must come from within.”
“I told you that you were a philosopher.”
Her cheeks started to turn pink as she laughed. “I am hardly that, Harrison.”
“I am not so certain, Perdita.”
“The answer will come in time,”
she assured him.
Harrison had not even realized that it was at a crossroads where he stood, and now, quite unexpectedly, Perdita stood in the center.
She hadn’t been a consideration when he’d sailed into London. Then his crossroads had three branches: keep sailing, stop sailing, or sail occasionally. That was a decision still yet to be made, except Perdita now stood at the center and he could not take a single road without going around her or taking her with him if he decided to give up sailing.
Had she become the new obstruction to his decision?
“What is your crossroads, Harrison? Unless you would rather not tell me.”
“I am not certain that I wish to keep sailing.”
“What does your family say?”
“I have not told them. I have only spoken of it to my Chief Mate, Patterson.”
Perdita pulled on his arm and drew him to the side of the walk. “No wonder you are troubled.”
“The long crossings have gotten tedious,”
he admitted. “I have one last voyage that I must take.”
“In June?”
she asked.
“Yes. I am to sail to Barbados for sugar and Jamaica for rum.”
Her blue eyes twinkled as she leaned in. “Will you be smuggling again?”
It was not possible that anyone could have heard her, but he certainly was not going to answer, especially her.
“A man must have some secrets, even from a friend,”
he returned.
“Oh, very well,”
she dismissed then studied him. “I assume your decision is what you will do once you return.”
“Yes. If I gave up sailing, I have no idea what I would do, or how soon I might become bored. What if it turns out to be a horrible mistake and by then it would be too late.”
“If it is just the long crossings that you do not like, are there shorter ones that might not be so tedious?”
“I could limit my sailing to just around England, Scotland, Ireland and crossing to France on occasion, and then I would be home more often.”
It felt good to simply talk about his options instead of constantly weighing them in the back of his mind and reaching no conclusion. “I have also considered only sailing to ports in Greece, Italy and England.”
“Why?”
“My brother, Maxwell, and his wife live in Greece. My sister and her husband live in Italy and another brother and his wife live in Northern England along the west coast.”
“It is certainly understandable that you would choose those shipping and merchant routes over other options. Is it a decision you must make now?”
“No. I still must take the one last voyage and I likely will not be back in England until the beginning of November, assuming all goes well. I will have time to consider what I truly want for my future.”
“Except you are thinking about it now,”
she reminded him.
“Because it weighs on me. From the time that I was a boy and would see the ships pass, I had wanted to one day captain my own and now it is rather disconcerting that I may no longer wish to do so.”
“Ah. It is hard to let go of a dream, but yours has also been realized.”
In that she was correct. “It was one that has held me since childhood,”
he admitted.
“Could it be that you are so reluctant to stop sailing because you believe that it is something that you should do?”
That was part of the reason, not that he said so.
“I am certain that by the time you return to England with your sugar and rum you will know what you want,”
Perdita predicated.
“You are so certain?” he asked.
“As certain as anyone can be and you will also be assured that it is not a rash decision because of the time you are giving yourself to make the right determination.”
“So, I remain at the crossroads,”
he murmured.
“Sometimes we are stuck there longer than we would like, but it is far better than running down the wrong path.”
“Never tell me again that you are not a philosopher.”
All she could do was laugh while her heart warmed. He had trusted her with his concerns, as a true friend would, and she hoped that he found his answers. She also believed that if she ever had worries, that she would be able to go to him as well, though she couldn’t imagine ever needing such, or being stuck at a crossroads. Her life was fairly simple and exactly where she wished to be.
“Thank you for the stroll and conversation, Captain Trent,”
she offered when they reached Felding’s box. She did not dare call him Harrison in front of others or she would be pestered by Rosalind endlessly.
Perdita also still wished he would have kissed her, but understood why it would never happen.
“It was my pleasure.”
He then bowed and was gone.
With a sigh, she took her seat and glanced at where her sister and brother-in-law danced.
She understood why Harrison had not kissed her, and he was wise in not doing so, but that did not change the fact that she would have loved for him to escort her down a dark walk, pull her into his arms and place his firm lips upon hers.
That was all she wanted and even if it was scandalous for her to desire such, she could not dismiss the longing and mourned the lost opportunity.
Perdita took a deep breath, her shoulders rising, and blew out a sigh, letting her shoulders drop.
Harrison was a companion, friend and someone she would cherish. He would also be gone soon and it would be months before she saw him again, therefore this was for the best. Instead, she’d hold him in her heart and wish him well after he was gone.
It was easy enough to tell herself, but it did not lessen the already growing ache in her heart.
She would miss him far more than she should if he were only a friend and that was something she would need to come to terms with.
Perdita reached forward for her glass of tart lemonade when a chill swept up her spine. She glanced around to see what caused such an unpleasant sensation to note that the woman, who she kept seeing, was standing not far away. She rose, determined to confront the woman but by the time she stepped from the box and started in that direction the woman was gone.
She was not losing her faculties.
She was not!