… relationship is still intact.” He swore under his breath and slammed a drawer shut. “Where is that infernal thing?” he muttered, suddenly annoyed.
He pocketed some items on the desk, then went to the trunk and pulled out another dress and dropped it on the bed.
“This intrigues me, Captain,” I told him, reaching for the dress. “Why should we stroll outside together? What will this accomplish?”
“I want the men to see us together, to see I’m in control. I want to extinguish any lingering thoughts of rebellion and bring order back to the ship. Do you understand?”
“And a stroll on deck will do all of this?” I asked amazed.
“If you do your part and behave suitably penitent.”
“Fascinating. And yet, I don’t quite understand.”
He sighed. “The men have seen us at odds. You’ve openly defied me. They need to see that it is no longer the case.”
“Why?” I asked, looking for a pencil and paper.
“How can I expect to maintain control over a hundred men if I can’t even handle a lass half my size? They need to know I can manage you as well as I can manage them.” He turned back to his desk and added under his breath, “However little it may be the truth.”
“What will we get to see? May I take notes?” I asked.
“Just the top deck.”
“Not below deck at all?”
“And while we’re out there, don’t hound me. It would defeat the purpose.”
“I shall be as biddable as a lamb,” I promised.
Later, I strolled on deck arm in arm with the captain, taking deep breaths of sea air, enjoying being outside again after the days indoors.
“How long shall we walk?” I asked.
“It won’t take long. A short stroll will suffice.”
To my surprise the crew knew nothing of the captain’s fever, but only made some crude remarks about what might the captain be doing in his cabin, alone with a lovely lass for days.
“Punishin’ her, no doubt,” a sailor answered.
The captain, I noticed, didn’t reprimand the men as I thought he might, just simply reminded them there was a lady present and then demanded an explanation for the un-mended net.
When we turned away, the captain said, “We’ll let them think what they like, Miss Madera. It is unpleasant, but necessary.” He sounded somewhat gruff.
“Rachel,” I said.
“What?”
“Wouldn’t you call me Rachel? Wouldn’t custom dictate that you would … considering?”
He looked away. “Rachel then.”
“And what shall I call you?”
“Captain, of course.”
“Really? Not your first name … your Christian name? Even in private conversation? Is that customary?”
“It will do for us.”
A strange feeling of disappointment filled me, though I couldn’t understand why. Permission to use his first name was not emotionally significant to me. I was merely doing research, only observing, indifferent to the outcome.
“What is the principle behind this reticence, if I may ask? Is it uncustomary, or simply a personal disinclination?”
He sighed. “It is absolutely beyond your power to refrain from dissecting everything to death, isn’t it?”
I leaned forward. “I simply need it for my records. Surely you can tell it to me if I promise not to use it in conversation, since it’s clear you feel I’ve proven unworthy of the honor.”
He looked at me alarmed. “What? It has nothing to do with that.”
“I don’t blame you, after all I’ve done ….”
“I said it isn’t that!”
Some men looked in our direction, and the captain turned and steered me towards the bow of the ship.
He bent and, in a whisper, directed me to lean my head against him.
I did so willingly with a weary sigh. He clenched his fist and muttered, “Bloody fool.”
“Captain!”
“Not you.” Silence. And then between his teeth he said, “Mallory.”
I looked up at him in surprise. “Mallory? Who’s she?”
He grimaced.
“You mean, that’s your name?”
“Lower your voice.”
“ Is that your name? Mallory