John Sinclair looked at her as if he saw her for the first time. He had obviously never thought she was pretty or he wouldn’t have had to exam her face so hard.
“Charlie…maybe….” It was one of the rare times she saw her father hesitate. “I-I want you to spend time together while he’s still on board. You bring him his meals and take yours with him as well. Give him a chance.
“Frankly,” he continued, “I never thought this charade would last this long. I always wanted you to have what your mother and I had. It was probably wrong of me to bring you on this ship, but I didn’t know what else to do—leave you at home with a nanny and a housekeeper? See you for a few weeks a year?”
“I don’t understand, Father.”
“Aye, you understand, Charlie. It would make me happy to see you in dresses and married with babies.”
“But the ship….”
“Morty is a good man. If you want to marry him, he can move up through the ranks and eventually move up to replace me.”
Charlie loosened the stock at her neck and poured herself a glass of water.
“All these years, all my hard work, you would deny me what I have earned?” Charlie had to work hard to school her expression. This was not the time for girlish tears. “Aye, Morty is a good man. He has been my friend since nearly the first day he walked up the gangway. But he is not ambitious nor is he educated. The sextant and compass confuse him.”
John shook his head. “Ness is your friend. Many marriages don’t start that strongly.”
“Father, I have been wenching with the man. Don’t you think I would think about that when we are together?” Charlie threw up her hands. “He passes wind and blames me!”
John Sinclair’s stony face stared at her. “All I’m asking is for you to spend time together and see what happens. If you haven’t changed your mind, we put him off when we get to Portugal.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Charlie, I know locking him up was a hard decision; it shows you have the ship’s best interest in mind. I think when we get back home; I’m going to let Byron go. If you haven’t changed your mind about Morty, you’ll have your promotion.”
“Thank you, sir.” She turned to leave, but stopped short of the door. “The men will ask why he’s locked up.”
“Tell them…it’s not their concern.”
Morale on a ship is a living entity. As a pebble tossed in a puddle, one small change can ripple through a small ship. A bad cook, a new mate, an incompetent jack tar all have unexpected ramifications on men and their morale. By throwing Morty in the brig, Charlie had started a ripple the size of a tidal wave. Her watch scowled at her, ignored her orders, and intentionally bumped into her as they passed.
The chill in the galley directed at her was palatable. The men leaned towards each other and spoke in low tones while casting hostile looks in her direction. Charlie only stood in the back of the line for a few seconds before she moved to the front. The men fell back rather than challenge her under the captain’s gaze.
“I need two plates, Melvin; one for me and one for Morty.”
Charlie knew Morty was supposed to get half-rations while in the brig, but she didn’t have the heart to order Melvin to do it especially since it was not his fault she locked him up.
Melvin was sixty if he was a day. Cold molasses poured faster than he moved. He spent his life at sea, but as he aged, his eyes had become clouded and his vision began to fail and he had been moved into the galley.
Charlie was glad her father had ordered her to eat with Morty. For once the brig seemed more hospitable than the galley. Young Benjy helped her carry the food and he was happy to see Morty.
Morty ruffled the teen’s dirty brown hair before taking his plate. “Hey, Benjy. How’s life topside?”
“Oh, Morty, it’s a mess,” Benjy said. “You never heard so much cussing in your life.”
“Why? What’s happened?”
Benjy cast a sideways glance at Charlie.
Charlie answered for him. “They’re upset I locked you in the brig.”
“Oh.”
“My father decided not to give any reason for it. He feels they should trust his judgment and mine blindly.”
“Oh.” Morty seemed to fully understand what was happening above deck. “Benjy, you go tell everyone I’m fine. I’m not chained to the wall. I have a nice hammock and all my things. Mr. Sinclair even let me keep a lantern. You tell them what I did was very wrong and I’m being treated fairly.”
“Benjy, before you go back to the galley, empty the bucket and leave it out there.”