Sail With Me (A Discovery Series Book) (3 page)

When we arrived at the main gate in front of Lady Elizabeth’s estate, I
ran my tongue over the stinging split in my lip.

“Benjamin, I can’t go inside like this,” I said.

He nodded and caught my chin in his hand to inspect my lip. “Want to go
to my house?”

I hesitated for a moment. “Let’s go to mine.”

“You sure?”

Nodding, I tugged him down the avenue toward my family house, the crisp
September breeze pushing us along. We stood in front of my house for a long
moment. It loomed before us like a gigantic, black shadow. The wide, double
doors beyond the bricked front steps locked in the silence waiting for me
inside. Small birds dawdled in the pear trees lining either side of the walkway
to the door. They watched me as if they couldn’t understand why I’d come here.

I pushed open the gate and stepped onto the pathway that led to the
doors. Benjamin followed behind me. My legs felt as if they had been wearing
lead boots, and my jaw ached.

My hand quivered as I reached for the doorknob. Joyous voices and happy
images of my mother bounced around in my head. We had been such a lovely family
living in this once-perfect house. As I led us into the now-blackened interior,
I would have given anything to hear my mother’s soothing voice.

Anything.

Instead, the silence swallowed us as I closed the door. I leaned against
it and slid down to my feet. Sitting on the cold wooden floorboards, I rested
my forehead on my knees. Benjamin lowered next to me.

“We can clean you up at my house, Charlotte.” He put his hand on my bent
knee. “You don’t have to be here.”

“No.” I fought the urge to break down. It happened every time I came
here. The memories of the way things used to be were too overwhelming. The
feeling of being trapped on land while my brothers and father got to sail
around, free as seagulls, made my head hurt, my heart ache. When I came by
myself, I usually gave into the tears. With Benjamin along, it didn’t seem like
the right thing to do, so I held them in, but my eyes stung.

I had no way of knowing exactly how long we sat there, crouched in the
darkness. Benjamin hadn’t said a word. Good sport. When I finally lifted my
head from my knees and drew in a deep breath, something on the floor beneath
the front door caught my attention. Shuffling over, I reached my arm out. My
hand closed around a thin parcel.

“What’s that?” Benjamin asked.

“I don’t know.”

Holding the package under my arm, I got up from the floor and fumbled
around in the dark, making my way to the east sitting room. Using touch alone,
I located a candle and lit it. Flickering light danced off Benjamin as he stood
beside me.

I eased into one of the wide chairs in front of the long windows, which
in the daylight offered a breathtaking view of the sea. Setting the candle on a
small wooden table, I held the package toward the light. Riley’s sloppy
handwriting covered the front of it, and despite my current mood, I had to smile.
He wrote in tight scribbles as if he were in a hurry. Always had.

I tore open the parcel, and a brown leather cord spilled into my lap. A
bright white seashell had been threaded onto the cord. Turning it over in my
hand caused iridescent colors to swirl inside the shell in the candlelight. A
fresh, salty scent clung to it.

While Benjamin inspected the shell necklace, I picked up the folded sheet
of parchment in my lap. Riley’s unkempt script covered the page.

Dearest Charlotte,

I hope all is well with you in Southampton. Life aboard the
Emily
is
hard work, but she sails with the grace of a swan and the power of a bull under
father’s direction. He has allowed Eric and me chances at the helm and I look
forward to more of them. Eric didn’t like it as much, but you know how he is.

We have made landfall in a place called Florida. It is much hotter
than Southampton, and its coast is sandier. Tall trees with thin trunks and
wide plumes of leaves are everywhere. We have set up a small camp, and a few
scouting parties have canvassed the immediate area. Father is set to trade with
the friendly natives, assuming there are some. We hope to avoid the savage
ones.

While charged with cleaning detail, Eric and I found ourselves at the
shore gathering buckets of water. With the sea lapping at my ankles, I bent
down to fill a bucket and noticed an exquisite shell at my feet. As soon as I
saw it, I thought of you.

Eric threaded it on the leather cording, and we both agreed it had to
be sent to you at once. We hope you like it and think of us when you wear it.
We miss you, especially when one of us doesn’t feel well or gets hurt. You
always know how to attend to those situations… just like Mother did.           

Forever your favorite
brother,

                                                                                    Riley    

The word “favorite” Riley had snuck into his closing made me chuckle. He
and Eric always pretended to be my favorite, tried to outdo one another for the
title. I fingered the shell Benjamin had dropped back into my lap and was
delighted that even in an exciting new land, my brothers thought of me.

How I wished to be with them. Scrubbing a deck, raising a sail, watching
for land. I would be with them… if I were a boy.

“Benjamin,” I said, “I need your help with something.”

“I’ll help you with anything, Charlotte.” Benjamin followed me upstairs
to Eric’s room, the dim candlelight offering nothing but dancing shadows.

“I know.” I took a moment in the doorway of Eric’s room to look at
Benjamin. How did I tell him I was leaving? How did I make him understand I had
to go?

He grabbed my hands. “You’re scaring me.”

An uneasy look washed across his face. A good face. One I’d seen practically
every day. Benjamin’s face was a perfect combination of his parents, as if he
had gotten the best each of them had to offer. His father had given him dark,
unruly brown hair and a long slender nose. Deep green eyes and full lips from
his mother. Hours of hauling crates around his father’s shop—a shop destined to
be his—had given him defined muscles in his arms and chest. He was kind and
generous and would make a wonderful husband.

For somebody else.

“I need to be like you,” I finally said.

“Like me? What do you mean?” He let go of my hands and sat on the end of
Eric’s bed.

“I need to be a boy.”

“Charlotte, you’re not making any sense.” He leaned back on his elbows so
he was almost lying down on Eric’s bed. The skin between his brows squished
together in confusion.

“To get on the
Rose
,” I said. “I need to be a boy.”

Benjamin shot back to sitting and opened his mouth to say something, but
I held up my hand.

“Just listen first, all right?”

He closed his mouth and waved a hand for me to continue.

“You know I’ve never meant to stay on land,” I started. “I’ve always
wanted to sail. I can’t do that on any of the ships that frequent Southampton because
everyone knows about my father’s disapproval. That new ship, the
Rose
,
is my only hope, Benjamin. With a simple enough disguise, it’ll be easy to fool
an outsider into thinking I’m a boy. We know the
Rose’s
captain is short
a deckhand. I could take his spot. It all makes perfect sense.”

“Until you get caught,” Benjamin said. “Charlotte, this is crazy. You
have a perfectly fine job at Lady Elizabeth’s where—”

“She’s going to ask me to be governess to her child,” I finished. “Take a
minute to picture it, Benjamin. I’m suffocating here. Cripes, I can’t breathe.
I don’t want to take charge of a little one. I don’t want to serve tea and
scones in the garden. I want to be on the water. I want answers to my questions
about what’s out there. I want to see the world. You… you could come with me.”

I hadn’t meant to say the last part, but seeing the pained look in his
eyes made me want to take him along.

“You know I can’t leave Southampton,” Benjamin said. “My father isn’t
well. You’ve seen him. He’s been training me to take over Watkins’s Post, and
you know what? I
want
to take it over. I do. I like working there. I
like being close to the water without having to be on it. I like getting the
sailors the supplies they need. I like it here, Charlotte, and I like having
you here too.”

He ran his hand through his hair and let out a long breath. “I won’t ask
you to stay, though, because I know it’ll kill you. I want you to be happy,
Charlotte, wherever that is.”

I took a hesitant step closer to him and put my hands on his shoulders.
He caught me around the waist with his arms and pulled me to him so his head
rested on my stomach. It wasn’t awkward as I thought it might be. Instead, it
was safe, like a warm blanket on a chilly, winter night.  

Benjamin was the first to drop his arms, and I took a step back. He
walked over to Eric’s wardrobe.

“One disguise, coming up.” He opened the wardrobe and scanned the
clothing Eric had left behind. I came to stand behind him and peered into the
closet as well. Several pairs of breeches, a number of plain tunics, a
waistcoat, and a homespun sweater still hung on their wooden pegs.

I pulled out a pair of tan breeches and held them up to my waist. Though
I was thinner than both my brothers, I was not much shorter than either of them.
Eric’s breeches reached to my heels and could be stuffed into a pair of boots.
A rope belt could solve the waist difference.

I surveyed a linen tunic next. I would need to sew up the front a bit so
it wasn’t so open at the neck, perhaps add some laces to tie it closed. After
shrugging out of Eric’s other coat I was wearing, I slipped on the waistcoat.

Benjamin laughed and shook his head. “Too big and fancy.” He held out his
hand and I gave him the waistcoat. “You want to stick to simple. Deckhands do a
great deal of the dirty work on a ship.” He returned the waistcoat to the
wardrobe and pulled out the sweater. My throat grew tight as I took it from
him.

My mother had made it.

The sweater was a simple brown pattern, squarely cut with a crew neck.
The yarn was itchy wool and tightly knit. I slipped it on and felt my mother’s
arms around me again.

“That’s perfect for a deckhand,” Benjamin said.

I nodded, my composure too near falling apart for words. After setting
aside the breeches, tunic, and sweater, I rummaged around Eric’s wardrobe some
more and, with Benjamin’s help, we put together some acceptable selections. I
rushed over to my room across the hall and retrieved a burlap sack. I stuffed
the efforts of our raid in my brother’s room into the sack.

“I need to alter these tunics,” I said as we came back downstairs.

“You’ll also need a few more things. Let me run back to the store and see
what I can get you.”

“Benjamin,” I said as he turned around to leave.

He looked over his shoulder. “Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“I said I’d help you with anything, Charlotte, and I meant it.” He
offered me a smile as he disappeared down the stairs.

I set to work on altering the tunics. As I worked at a fevered pace, the
blurry edges of my plan came into focus. After an hour’s time, three tunics
were sufficiently fixed to suit me. Taking a deep breath, I freed myself from
the confines of my feminine garb. I eased my legs into the breeches, secured a
corded belt at the waist, and slipped on one of the altered tunics. Back
upstairs in my room, I stared at myself in the long looking-glass.

“Almost… but not quite.”

Turning to my bed, my gaze rested on a small pillow. I slipped it under
the tunic and positioned it so instead of having the developing bosom of a
girl, I had the belly of a portly boy. It was the perfect size and fit
comfortably in place, but I would have to keep my stomach guarded.  

I pulled the sweater on over the tunic and slipped my feet into my own
boots, which were a plain brown leather with no elaborate detailing. I examined
my image once again. From the neck down, I was easily a male. Only one other
thing that needed adjusting to make my transformation complete.

My hair.

My long locks of blonde hair would surely give me away. While boys often
wore their hair long and tied back, mine hung to my waist with a rippling wave
to it. Too long and fancy for a boy. Far too much of it as well. My eyes stung
as I thought about what would have to be done.

I stood in front of the looking-glass, thinking of cutting away my hair,
cutting away a piece of my mother.

“Charlotte?”

I turned to see Benjamin standing in the doorway.

“Here.” He tossed a small sack onto my bed. I rifled through it to find a
compass, a knife, and a few other necessities.

“Thanks.” I stuffed the sack into my larger one already filled with
clothing.

“Let’s see about that lip.” Benjamin walked over to the washstand I had
filled while he was gone. He dabbed a clean cloth into the water and stepped
over to me. Grabbing my chin, he ran the cloth along my swollen lip, washing
away the dried blood, soothing away the ache. His touch was feather light,
gentle.

“There. That’s better. Does it hurt much?”

I shook my head and took a step back before I changed my mind about this
plan and about leaving Benjamin behind. “Would you help me cut my hair?”

He picked up the shears on the washstand.

“You’re sure about this?” he said.

“Yes.”

“Nothing I can say to change your mind?”

“No.”

“Hope this is like shearing Mother’s sheep.” Benjamin divided my hair
into two sections and hesitated behind me. “I feel as if cutting this is a sin,
Charlotte.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Just do it.”

He ran my tresses through the shears. A sizable chunk of hair dropped to
the floor, and although I was horrified to see that much of my own hair on the
ground, it felt right. So incredibly right.

Benjamin hacked at the rest of my hair until the back of my neck was out
in the cold. What was left fell below my ears and could be tied back or crammed
up into a hat. Looking to the floor at my feet, I cringed at the golden blonde
pile that had taken me a lifetime to grow.

“Charlotte Denham…” Benjamin began as his eyes met mine in the looking-glass.
“Meet… Charlie Hamden?”

“Charlie.” That would be easy to remember. “Do you think this will work,
Benjamin?”

“If you want it bad enough, you’ll make it work. You’re not one to give
up. It’s one of the best things about you.”

He put the shears down and stepped away while I swept up my hair.

“I’ll miss you, Charlotte.” He drew me into an embrace and kissed my cheek.
His lips were warm and soft against my skin. It was the first time he had ever
touched me in that way.   

“I’ll miss you too.” I held onto his hands, not sure what else to do.

He gave my hands a tight squeeze before letting them go. Benjamin reached
around to pull something out of the back pocket of his breeches. “I brought you
this. It’s mine.” He plopped a cap onto my head and pulled it down low. “There
now. Your disguise is complete, Charlie. Think of me when you wear it, all
right?”

“I’ll think of you a great deal, Benjamin. How could I not?”

I turned back to the looking-glass and compared my new reflection to
Benjamin’s.

“Not bad, huh?” I said.

“It should fool an outsider.” His eyes met mine in the reflection and he
took a step closer so he was directly behind me. “Wouldn’t fool me, though. I
know every detail of your face.”

“So there won’t be any danger you’ll forget me while I’m gone then?” I
turned to face him.

“Not a chance.” Benjamin tapped a finger to my nose. “I’ll be here
waiting to hear all about your adventure if…” He shook his head. “
When
you decide to come back. That’s what a best friend does. In the meantime, I
wonder if Rachel Carnigan wants to be…
friends
.”

I gave him a quick shove. “I can’t believe I’m going to try this.”

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Charlotte. Be safe.” He kissed
my cheek again. “I’ll let Lady Elizabeth know you’ve found other employment.”

“Thanks. If my father and brothers come back…”

“I’ll take care of it.”

I pressed my lips to Benjamin’s cheek. “I wouldn’t have lasted as long as
I did on land without you. You know that, right?” I whispered in his ear.

When I pulled back, he was smiling. “Good bye, Charlotte.” He gave me one
last look and left.

Alone now, I studied my new self in the looking glass. The boy who stared
back at me would bring the adventure I so craved.

Through Charlie I would sail.

****

I fell asleep at my house that evening and when I awoke in the morning, I
slipped into my disguise, tied the shell necklace around my neck, and wasted no
time getting to the
Rose
. I could not believe the sheer size of the
vessel. Wide planks of dark wood covered her hull. Four thick masts, stripped
of their sails at the moment, jutted out from the deck. The ship herself
resembled a fly caught in a spider web. Braided lines extended from the
perimeter of the ship and were secured into the sand by large wooden stakes. An
enormous, rusted iron anchor was lodged in the sand beside the vessel.  

After checking myself over, I jogged down the dock until I reached its
end. I jumped into the sand and walked toward the ship. Before I reached the
vessel, a man approached me. His shirt had been stripped away, and he had a
white-knuckled grip on a mallet in his right hand. He swatted at a mosquito
hovering around his sweat-laden head.

“What do you want, boy?” Two brown eyes narrowed at me.

“Hello, sir.” I bowed my head. “Are you Captain Finley?”

“I am.”

“I was asking around the docks if any captains sought extra hands before
they sail out. Someone said Captain Finley was and his ship was careened on the
south shore.” I pointed to the ship behind him.

Captain Finley studied me as a fresh sweat broke out all over my skin.
Why did he have to look so closely at me? It didn’t matter if he recognized me
as Charlotte Denham. If he suspected I was a girl—any girl—I was out.  

“What skills do you have, son?”

“Clean, cook, fish, trim, and repair sails. I’m a hard worker, and I know
how to take orders, sir.” Was I trying too hard? Had I said too much? I glanced
up to Captain Finley’s face once then returned my gaze to the ground between
us.

“You sound like a real catch with all those skills, if you indeed have
them.” He grabbed my chin in his rough hand, angling it to get a better look at
me. His calloused thumb pressed into the bruise on my jaw, and I swallowed the
pain. “What happened to your face there?”

“Accident, Captain. Somebody bumped into me.”

He pursed his lips. “You’re not the fighting type, are you?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. Don’t need any hotheads on my crew.” He grabbed my shoulder and
gave me a good jostling. “Only one final question then.”

“Aye, sir?” So close
.

“What do you do if a man goes overboard?”

Was this one of the trick questions Edward Scarsdale had mentioned
outside The Copper Pot? Did Captain Finley want a serious answer or was this a
test?