The joys of safety
Inside, he tidies both himself and the room quickly and quietly, donning his jacket once again with a shudder at its chilly damp. His stomach is gnawing at him; he shrugs off the hunger, knowing there will be scant chance to assuage it for some time. He sits in the desk-chair, his back to the bunk and its inhabitant, closes his eyes, and says a prayer of gratitude under his breath.
She goes down to her cabin and retrieves dry clothing, but does not put it on. Instead, she carries it into Esperanza’s cabin. She knocks lightly, so as not to startle Shirley.
“Doctor? Come in.” He gets up from the chair as she enters. “She is still asleep.”
“Good. I thought she would be. How are you, my dear? I’m going to get into dry clothes; would you like to do likewise? I can stay with Esperanza, and we can talk when you’re more comfortable. Oh, and I brought this for the bruises” handing him a small pot of angelica and marigold salve. Once her hand is free, she reaches up to give his shoulder a slight squeeze.
He winces involuntarily—wrong shoulder—but kisses her cheek with cold lips after a glance through the open door. “I could be warmer, but dry clothes should mend that. Thank you for this; I will return it shortly. How are the injured sailors?”
She catches the wince, and moves her hand quickly, with a murmured “I’m sorry, love.” The kiss gets a soft smile in response. If she can, she’ll stand on tiptoe and return it. “The sailors will mend, although the one who caught a spar on his head is badly hurt. That will wait, though… go, love, you’re freezing!”
A short time later, he scratches at Esperanza’s door rather than knocking. “Doctor? May I return you your salve?”
She opens the door smiling. She is also reclad, and has hung her dress on a peg to dry. “Better?”
“Yes, rather. Thank you.”
“Good. You did look rather miserable; I was worried.”
“I am a comfortable creature, Margaret; cold and wet, in especial combined, hold few charms for me.”
“Or for any reasonable person, I should think!” She nods toward the chair, but once he is seated, instead of sitting on the edge of Esperanza’s bunk, settles herself on the floor so she can lay her head against his knees. “Thank you. Do you have any idea what a relief it is, that there is one person with whom I need not be always strong and sure of myself?”
He stiffens momentarily, then gives way with a little sigh of a chuckle and passes his hand over her hair. “My dear, this charade of ours simply must end. Tell Esperanza and your brother whatever you must; I cannot pretend any longer that I am anything but utterly in love with you. Let the sailors think it an effect of the storm; let the Times give us a full column; I care not one whit.”
He tips up her chin to look her in the eyes. “Now then. Are you all right, sweetheart?”
She is thunderstruck, almost speechless, this is such a complete reversal of everything she’s seen from him. “I—I—yes, I think so, I’m just very tired. Are you sure, love? Nothing could make me happier, but are you very sure?”
“If you recall, my dear, the initial reason for discretion had less to do with propriety or concern for public or private reaction than with the perceived necessity to conceal our—specifically, my—movements from Herbert Addison. That reason no longer obtains—and I grow weary of watching my surroundings like a wrongdoer every time I wish to offer you some endearment!”
She laughs very softly. “Yes, I can see that. But you were *very* concerned with propriety, at least to start with!” She turns her head a little to kiss his palm.
“Well, I still am,” he protests. “I simply think that at this juncture we risk our reputations more by a fruitless attempt to conceal our — mutual regard — than by honesty.”
“Which is a good reason for doing as we wish to do anyway.” Her grin invites him to laugh at themselves with her. “But is there anything to tell, really? People don’t usually announce that they have grown fond of each other, although that is enough to tell Esperanza. We can simply stop the charade without another word said, and let people draw their own conclusions.”
“Done. That is really all I meant us to do. Just — we are all-too-public figures now; I am ready to face the gossipers and scandalmongers, but only if you are also.”
“I’ve been ignoring them for years, my dear. Very little is as scandalous as a female physician, in some circles. But yes, if you are ready, I certainly am.
He sighs. “You have waited for me, is that not so? I am a coward.”
“Yes, I’ve waited for you, but you are not a coward. You have had to be far more cautious about drawing attention than I; that is all.”
“Well, I—I should not like you to believe that I am somehow shamed by you, by loving you. Nothing could be more wrong.”
“Do you know, that never even entered my mind. I thought you were being protective, of me as much as of yourself. It’s rather endearing…and how you manage it without making me feel as if you must protect me simply because I am a woman and inherently weak is quite wonderful!”
Shirley clears his throat softly, peering at Esperanza to be sure she
still sleeps. “I rather think a certain likeness between us in that regard
might be an answer to that question,” he says drily.
She quirks an eyebrow at that, and nods, following his gaze. “Now, I don’t think I shall have to tell Esperanza,” she says. “She has already told me. I believe her exact words were ‘anyone who sees him look at you would know he will not be seeing anyone else.’”
“Dear me. How fearfully indiscreet. You see the necessity of disclosure, I hope; clearly I am not to be trusted to restrain myself,” he says, embarrassment mixed with irony in his tone.
“My dear, you managed to restrain everything but the look in your eyes…and I doubt anyone but she was was watching us that closely.” A slight giggle: “Certainly Lady Oglethorpe couldn’t have been!”
“Bah! that wretched woman. I will not tell you what I thought when Lady Collins’s cat brushed by me underneath the table!”
She blushes and laughs. “I can imagine!”
“My brother may also have read between the lines, though,” Margaret remarks, sobering. “I have never mentioned any man by name in my correspondence before.”
“Ah, is that so? Well, we were properly introduced in London at the Ellipsoids’ Ball, and have improved on our acquaintance in reasonably acceptable fashion, considering the circumstances. Better we should make it known ourselves than have it revealed involuntarily.” He laughs. “I expect my background is receiving yet another thorough investigation. What Judge Remington must think! I daresay some quite curious telegrams await us in Osaka. I hope we shall not be too much delayed; your brother doubtless knows what ship we are on, and will worry.”
She smiles back. It is quite the most open smile Shirley has seen from her; it lights her whole aspect. “I am curious to see what the telegrams say, also. And you are quite right; I shall have to call at Stafford & Sheffield Osaka at least long enough to telegraph Arthur and reassure him that we survived. I should also let him know what a gem this Captain is; the family needs to keep him in our employ.”
“I doubt there is another like him anywhere. When the ship turned on its side—I thought it was all up with us, Margaret, all but the actual drowning.” His hand, which has been stroking her damp hair, finds her shoulder and tightens on it.
She shudders and leans into his leg, biting her lip. “So did I.” She drawas a deep, rather shaky breath, lets it out. “So did I, love. I don’t think I’ve ever been so terrified. I was glad you were there, and trying quite desperately to think how I could save Esperanza, and…” this time it is she who can’t go on. She brings her hand up to cling to his, but looks down. He can feel her trembling.
“My poor love. How thoughtless of me. Here, you mustn’t sit like that.” He gets to his feet, careful neither to step on her nor loose her hand, and pulls her up as well. Much as she had done for him the night before, he draws her head onto his shoulder and puts his arms round her, his battered old black topcoat practically hiding her from view. “All is well, love. Cry if you like; I will never tell, never think the less of you. But we are safe, and we will be ashore soon, and this will dwindle into a story we can tell to astonish a salon or two.”
She clings for some minutes, and Shirley can feel that she is relaxing gradually. Then she laughs a little into his shoulder. “This is so silly. You are right, it’s over and we are safe. I’ve never understood it; I’m perfectly fine through the crisis, then shiver over might-have-beens once it is past. Thank you, my love.”
“I have known the same reaction in the constabulary, faced with emergency,” Shirley answers with a slight shrug. “Quite a practical adaptation, I should think; work now, worry later.”
He can feel her nod. She is fairly calm now, but stays, nestled against his shoulder and hidden in his coat, for a long time. Shirley feels an improbable yet irresistible well of joy fill him, a joy of life greater than he could guess a weak human heart capable of withstanding. He brings his arms even closer together around Margaret, and bends his head toward hers to breathe in the salt-sea scent of her hair. “I love you,” he whispers once, too lost in unfamiliar elation to say anything more.
She hears him and smiles, although he can’t see it. She has been revelling in the unaccustomed wonder of simply being held. She tighterns her clasp as he had, bringing her hands to rest flat on his shoulder blades, underneath the overcoat, and nestles, if possible, even closer. She thinks she ought to say something, but cannot quite form the words. So she lets her hands and her presence say it for her, rubbing his back lightly for a moment, and pressing him close. Then, with a slight sigh, she lets go and looks up at him. “Thank you seems inadequate, but it is all I can think of.” She glances over to see if Esperanza is stirring.
“I have done nothing, really,” he says with a remarkably cheery burst of laughter.
She grins back. “I would not call it nothing! Do you have any idea how happy I am, in this moment? That is a priceless gift!”
Then she blinks, and leans back. “Dearest? You slept through dinner and breakfast, and the storm was on us before lunch. You’ve been half drowned and half frozen, and you must be half starved. Forgive me, please, for not thinking sooner! She releases herself from his arms, and finds the picnic hamper. “There should still be some fruit and hard cheese in here… ah, yes, there they are! Love? Eat something. I don’t want you to fall ill from our adventures! What would you like?”
“Anything,” he says, now a touch shamefaced. “I am hungry, but it seemed trivial after everything that’s happened.”
She pulls out packets of figs and dates, a chunk of hard cheese, and some slightly stale steamed buns, and lays them on the desk. Then she digs a bit further through the hamper and finds a small knife, which she unwraps. “Good; a veritable feast. It’s not trivial; what we have endured is strain enough upon the body. Come; we have warmed ourselves and comforted our spirits; now let us attend to the comfort of the body as well.” She is smiling at him, warm and open. She looks the same, damp hair escaping its pins and all, but there is something—some edge about her—that is gone. He had not realized it was there, but now the change is subtle, but very clear.
He accepts it, turning his attention to fruit and cheese. The good there
is no need to question. He picks up a fig and toasts her with it. “Salud! Or should I say, na zdarovye?”She just laughs.
When his stomach no longer clamors to be filled, he tucks a tendril of loose hair behind Margaret’s ear and says shyly, “You know, I did learn somewhat of hairdressing—a necessity, given my earlier employment. I was even detailed to put up Elizabeth’s hair, as we had no maid; she had lovely hair, almost as long as my arm. May I do Esperanza’s office, this once? I heard the sailor’s foolish doubts; perhaps a neater appearance may help mend them.”
The touch behind her ear is so pleasant it startles her and makes her shy in turn. She looks down, but nods. “I would like that, if you don’t mind.” She nods toward the remains of the food. “If you’ll tidy that a bit, I’ll go retrieve my brush and combs.”
He clears away crumbs and pits with despatch. She goes to her room, finds the brush in the trunk where it had been tossed early in the storm, along with a small inlaid wooden box she keeps her combs in. She takes a deep breath and pauses, considering. Then she laughs at herself; if she has not worried much about proprieties so far, then why start now? She goes back with the brush and the box, closing Esperanza’s door carefully behind her. “Well, where would you like me to be, master hairdresser?” Her smile is purely impish.
“Sit down,” he says, standing up himself and taking the brush and combs.
“The sailors will simply have to forgive us, as our usual haunts are
occupied.” He lays the brush aside, saying, “You ought not use a brush on wet hair; it only tangles worse.” He finds and removes all the hairpins in short order, so neathanded that Margaret hardly feels them go. He separates out sections of hair with a large-toothed comb and, holding each section near the scalp with one hand so as not to cause pain, combs them free of knots with the other. A smaller-toothed comb, wiped on Shirley’s handkerchief between times, removes the worst of the crusted salt.
She closes her eyes and relaxes under his ministrations. At one point, she comments “I shall be grateful when we can wash properly.” And somewhat later, “I believe I am coming to understand why cats purr.” At which Shirley hushes her, scandalized despite himself. She just chuckles a little.
“There. Better. I will put it back the way you had it.” And he does, quickly and neatly. The whole operation, despite the continual motion of the ship, takes something under ten minutes. “Now, would you care to salvage our reputation by opening the door, if it is safe to do so?” This time, he is amused, not censorious.
“I daresay if anyone has even noticed, we will cause great confusion. Doesn’t the lady always come from a private interlude with the gentleman with her hair mussed? I am much more presentable than I was, and far more comfortable as well. Thank you, dearest.” She smiles at him, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
“Mmm. Such liberties you take with the hired help, madame,” he murmurs in her ear, and kisses her in return.
“Somehow that didn’t seem like an objection. I shall put these away—” picking up the brush and combs— “and I should probably check on the sailor with the head injury by now, anyway.” She pauses to look carefully at Esperanza in passing, but the girl is sleeping peacefully. The pain-lines have relaxed out of her face, and she is breathing evenly. Margaret nods to herself, smoothing the blanket over Esperanza’s shoulders with a caressing motion, then goes on out. This time, she carefully leaves the door open a trifle.
Shirley takes the opportunity to pace the hall; three in the confines of Esperanza’s cabin felt a tight fit indeed. He closes Esperanza’s door while he walks, and does not stray too far from it in case she should stir.
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