Mister Bailey gave them no pause as Trahern opened the missive and began to read it. Smiling broadly the mate turned to Shanna.
“The Beauchamps be anxious to see ye, mum. Everyone named the captain a liar when he tried ter say how ye looked. Course, he didn’t come close ter doin‘ ye justice.”
Shanna was amused at the roundabout compliment and gave the flatterer her best smile.
“I shall have a talk with Captain Beauchamp at the first opportunity,” she chuckled. “I will not have my reputation so abused.”
“The letter reaffirms that Captain Beauchamp has left transport for us at Richmond. Mister Ruark has gone to see it ready and will meet us there,” Trahern stated and gave Shanna a sidelong regard. “I half expected the lad to leave the Tempest and seek his freedom.” At Shanna’s astounded gasp, he shrugged. “I would have. I’d have signed over the schooner and taken my leave of bondage.” He chuckled in good humor, and his eyes twinkled at her. “I begin to wonder at his wisdom.”
Shanna presented her back angrily and refused to be further baited while Mister Bailey’s face was a study in blankness. He cast a narrowed eye at the sky and tested the wind.
“Mister Ruark impressed me as a man of rare honor. Why, he could be a Beauchamp and not be found wanting.” As Shanna turned her head to look at him over her shoulders, he spoke to Captain Dundas. “Ye can set full sail and steer due westerly. We can make a good distance yet afore dark.”
The river became subtly more wild after they passed Williamsburg, and the banks more sparsely settled. Darkness descended, and the ship was anchored for the night. Fog rolled down the river like a smothering blanket of wool, and soon the Hampstead was like a small universe suspended in time and space. Shanna could not have vouched that a world existed beyond the heavy grayness that swirled lazily against the sides of the ship. The rhythm of the open sea was gone, and small, erratic movements took place as the Hampstead strained against her cables and surged on the errant swirls and currents of the river.
Shanna fought the loneliness of her cabin. A small stove spread some warmth, but the chill of the night soaked in. She missed the nearness of Ruark beside her in bed. Pensively she went to her sea chest and withdrew the music box. He had asked her to bring it along, and it was her closest link with him at the moment. The box was heavy and sturdy, though the exterior gave little hint of it in the wealth of carvings, and it was well weighted to give resonance to the notes.
As she lifted the lid, the tinkling music filled the cabin with Ruark’s presence. The song was one she had so often heard him whistling or singing. She hummed softly and closed her eyes as she remembered strong arms about her, golden eyes gazing down into hers, the smile that could taunt, anger, please or soothe, the warmth of him beside her, the rippling strength of his muscles as he labored in the sun or moved softly above her in the dark.
The last echo of the notes died in the stillness of the cabin. Shanna opened her eyes to find that an odd mistiness clouded her sight. A long sigh slipped from her as she put the music box safely away.
There are fires, and then there are fires. Shanna blew out the lantern and snuggled beneath the down comforter and blankets, and the flame that warmed her was not the one in the stove.
“A day or two, my love,” she whispered in the darkness. “An eternity, yet as nothing.” Her choice of words came to her with full awareness, and tears welled up within her eyes. “Aye, my love! I do love you, Ruark Beauchamp, and you shall never have cause to doubt it again.”
The fog hung low on the water until the onshore breezes awoke to set it astirring. Then it drifted up to leave a pathway open beneath it, but still it clung reluctantly about the mastheads. Mists rose in streamers from the oily surface, and, as the ship began to awaken, Shanna was among the first on deck. Had it not been unseemly of a lady, she would have urged the men to haste as they stumbled up from below and paused to rub sleep from their eyes.
After a light breakfast Shanna returned to the deck with her father, not willing to miss a thing of this new land. Both of them were enchanted with the endless variety of what they saw passing by. Trahern would stare in awe and mutter, “A merchant’s dream. An untouched market.”
Rich black soil lay bare on the river banks, and small, rounded hills began to thrust upward showing occasional sheer bluffs of stone above the thick forest which came to the water’s edge. Houses appeared, some of red brick, large enough to speak of fortunes sheltered within. The river was still more than a mile wide, but the current had stiffened. The morning was not yet gone when the ship rounded a point and the James swept away to the larboard. Henceforth it took a more torturous course, and the crew was worked to their limits. The sails were constantly in need of trimming, letting out, or taking in, and several times it was necessary to tack across the width of the river to make headway.