under her hat Emily ventured a peek up at Leander and saw his jaw working. In her woozy state, she could not be sure whether it was a flash of anger or twinkle of enjoyment she detected in his sea-blue eyes. Pushing herself up from the bench with the aid of her walking stick, she answered for herself. “Certainly not, Biscuit. Just … just lead the way, if you please.”
7:30 p.m.
(Second Dog Watch, Three Bells)
“ARE YA AWAKE, MISS?”
Against the dim light of the hospital lanterns, Emily could see the silhouette of Osmund Brockley, standing outside her curtain, holding her supper in his hands.
“I am, Mr. Brockley. Come in.”
He stooped low as he passed through the canvas, carefully cradling her bowl of jellied green soup. “Biscuit sends the pea soup with his compliments and wants ya to know he made a special pudding fer yer dessert.”
“How kind of him,” Emily said, inching her body up against her pillow. “I didn’t hear the supper bell.”
Osmund pulled a wooden spoon from his pocket, wiped it off on his apron, and dropped it into the bowl before handing it off to Emily. “Supper was over long ago, Miss. Ya been sleeping awhile.”
“Where is Dr. Braden?”
“Dining with Captain Moreland and his officers in the wardroom,” he said, rolling his thick tongue around his cracked lips.
No doubt the men’s supper conversation was colourful, thought Emily. What she wouldn’t give to have been a fly on those walls! She suddenly became aware of the rise and fall of the ship. “We’re at sea, Mr. Brockley?”
“Aye, we pulled anchor hours ago, Miss.” He pulled in his tongue to give her a grin. “Yer exercise above deck must have tuckered ya out.”
“It did indeed,” she said, avoiding his bright eyes. “Thank you for the soup.”
“Holler when ya want yer pudding.”
Osmund gawked at her a moment, then left. Emily dipped the spoon into the thick green muck and slowly brought it to her mouth, banishing all thoughts of its cook and his crumby whiskers.
Later on, as she finished the last of her pudding and contemplated a dull, restless evening, she heard tentative steps approaching. Gus Walby cleared his throat.
“Come in. Please.”
Gus slipped through the curtain into her corner and stood by her hammock holding Sense and Sensibility. Emily could see that his blue eyes were full of excitement.
“Have you come to rescue me from my boredom?”
“I promised to come and read to you before my watch.”
“But the First Watch has already begun, has it not?”
“My watch begins at midnight. I’ve never done the Middle Watch before. Captain Moreland must have confidence in me for we’ll soon be entering enemy waters again.”
“May I watch with you? I’d give anything to be away from this bed.”
Gus’s cheeks reddened. “You’d better not, Em. You caused quite a stir this afternoon.” He reached for the stool at the foot of her hammock and sat down upon it. “When you didn’t return to the hospital, Dr. Braden asked me to look for you, as he had his hands full stitching up the head of a sailor that’d fallen from the shrouds. But I couldn’t find you anywhere. I was mad at myself for leaving you, but I never thought Magpie would have led you to the mess.”
“Magpie did no such thing! When it was time for him to return to his duties, I told him I was quite capable of finding my own way back to the hospital. I soon discovered I was quite lost and not capable at all.”
“Is it true, Em? Were you really drinking beer with Biscuit and his mates?”
“Did Dr. Braden tell you that?”
“Oh, no.” Gus lowered his voice to a whisper. “I was invited to dine with the officers this evening and it was there that Mr. Lindsay announced he’d been informed you were drinking beer with a group of men that were saying lewd things to you. All Dr. Braden said was it was obvious the men had no idea they were in the presence of a lady; otherwise, they wouldn’t have been so vulgar.”
Emily leaned closer to Gus. “Is this Mr. Lindsay the same man that teaches you writing?”
“Aye, he’s a first lieutenant.”
“Fascinating!” Emily said, more to herself than to Gus.
“Were you quite offended by the men’s remarks?”
“Not at all. I’ve had occasion to hear far worse. It’s not just men on the sea who misbehave.”
Gus looked embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have said anything at all …” His voice trailed off when Dr. Braden entered the hospital. In one brisk action, Gus opened Jane Austen’s novel and randomly began to read.
In the lamplight, Emily could see Leander’s shadow stop next to his desk, where he raised his head and stood unmoving as if listening to Gus’s reading. For a full chapter, he stayed in that position, and when it was complete, he called out, “It’s late, Mr. Walby.”
“Good night, Em. Sleep well. I hope we can continue tomorrow.”
Emily replied with a silent nod.
When Gus was gone, she lay swinging in her hammock, listening to the wind howling through the tiny cracks in the ship’s timbers and the sea crashing as the Isabelle battled her way through the waves. Periodically, a bell sounded, an order was shouted, a whistle was blown in the distance, but the rest of the ship was eerily silent. There was no entertainment above deck this night. Near Emily’s head, the gunport was closed up, and her little corner was dark and lonely. She hoped Leander might check in on her, might be in the mood for some conversation, but the only sounds outside her canvas curtain were the moans and snores of the wounded men in their cots, and the scratch of a pen. Emily closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come.
The first crash of cannons sounded in the early morning before light. Emily sat upright in her hammock and blinked in the blackness of the lower deck. As yet, no lanterns had been lit in the room where they all slept. Through the cracks in the ship’s timbers, she could see flashes of light that were followed by thunderous outbursts of guns. The hits to the hull of their merchant ship rattled Emily’s teeth and landed her on her back as she scrambled out of her cot. There was confusion and chaos above her head as the crew raced to defend themselves with their guns. In the darkness of the large cabin the women started screaming and the children began to wail. Emily could not see a thing as she groped her way to the next hammock and, with trembling hands, felt around for the terrified child who lay there. She scooped up the youngster and shouted to the other women to grab their children and take them to the corners of the room. But no one answered her. No one seemed to hear her. All around the ship the explosions and ensuing battle cries were deafening.
Before long, the American captain ordered his men to lash the ships together for boarding. As she crouched down in a gloomy corner, Emily could smell the stale stink
