An Officer but No Gentleman(95)

“But she didn’t, did she?”

“She barely talked to him at all. I think Charlie would spend all week trying to think up some question to ask her father when she dined with him on Sundays. She’d ask her question at the beginning of dinner and she’d spend the rest of the meal listening to him explain. She’d ask a few more questions. But that was their routine. As far as I could tell, that was the only time they spoke other than the old man telling her to eat her ships’ biscuit as he left the galley. She usually gave it to me.”

“Not even when they were alone in their cabin?”

“She’d go in and he’d come out.”

“You didn’t think that was strange?”

“We thought Charlie was so sensitive about his scars, he didn’t even let his father see them. Now, I realize he was giving her privacy before bed.”

Jaxon smiled remembering when Charlie had told him about her “scars”. What a fool he had been. He had no trouble believing the crew had fallen for the lie hook, line and sinker just as he had.

Jaxon sighed. He really felt like Morty and Charlie’s bond was unique and he suspected Morty had taught Charlie more about interacting with others than she had taught him about the ship. He knew he was only beginning to understand the depth and complexity of their friendship. Each was what the other needed.

On the other hand, he was going to be a laughingstock if his wife had a male best friend. The rumor mill would call him a cuckold; say his leg wasn’t the only thing gimpy after he had been keelhauled. If only Charlie and Morty were related. No one would bat an eye at that.

“Look, Morty. I want you and Charlie to remain friends because I know there is a special place in her heart for you, but I hate the way this appears. I don’t want Charlie to be the subject of gossip when she is new to this life. She is so naïve about what life ashore is like. You grew up on land. You know how vicious society can be. I have a former fiancée who has already shown her claws once with Charlie.”

“Aye, I was one of the poorest kids in town. I know exactly what you mean.” Morty tapped his pipe on the ground, emptying it. “Is this where you tell me that I can only talk to her in your presence?”

“That’s an idea,” Jaxon said with a wry grin.

“Or you and I pretend to be friends.”

Jaxon made an annoyed face. “I’m not like Charlie. I can’t hide what I’m feeling.”

“Then what?”

“When is it all right for a woman to be alone with a man who’s not her husband?”

“It isn’t… unless they are related.”

Jaxon looked him straight in the eye and waited until Morty figured out what he was suggesting. “If you were her cousin, no one would say a word. You tell the crew of the Arcadia to play along and there is no reason you can’t spend a little time with her when you’re in port.”



It was about ten minutes after their usual closing time when Charlie, Mabel and Mrs. Jenkins emerged from the store. As Mrs. Jenkins locked the door, Mabel inventoried the basket she carried to insure she had everything she needed to work on Charlie’s wedding gown when she got home.

“Jaxon!” Charlie said when she saw him standing next to the walk in the street. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Maybe twenty minutes.”

“I was hoping Jaxon would come for you, cousin, so I could ask Miss Mabel if she might allow me to see her home.”

Mabel’s auburn head jerked up from her task. “Me? I couldn’t ask you to walk me home. We live outside of town. It’s a long walk.”

“Well, then I certainly can’t let you walk that far alone. It’s nearly dark now,” Morty said, crossing his arms stubbornly across his broad chest.

Mabel smiled sweetly and blushed. “Thank you. I’d like that very much.”

Mrs. Jenkins turned to Charlie. “I didn’t realize Miss Sinclair and Mr. Ness were cousins.”

“They only recently found out themselves,” Jaxon interjected quickly before Charlie could say otherwise. “Charlie’s mother lost track of her sister when her sister eloped.”

Both Charlie and Morty turned to him. He gave Charlie a look she and her father had shared many times over the years. Charlie would ask for an explanation later, but for now she would not contradict him.

“My mother made a terrible choice and was too ashamed to go home to her family,” Morty said. “We don’t like to talk about it.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Jenkins said. “We all have our family secrets.”

Morty stepped up to the petite seamstress and held his hand out. “May I carry that for you, Miss Mabel?”