“I am just admiring the view,” she said defensively.
“Oh yes,” Caoimhe said with a wink. “Because that view changes so very often.”
“You are unkind!” Madeline protested.
“I am not!” Caoimhe insisted. “I am being…sisterly. Haven’t you ever had a sister before?”
That part of the conversation gave her pause. Did she want her new life to include a sister? Would she have to invent some new story for herself in order to fit into this new world? How could she possibly explain Victoria to a person such as Caoimhe? Victoria, a girl who only wanted to marry, and marry well, and be a beautiful lady of a house for the rest of her days? More importantly, how could Madeline explain herself—a woman who’d had that life handed to her on a silver platter—only to throw it all away to work in a tavern by the sea?
In her first week, Madeline had been nervous that one day her parents were going to walk into The Admiral’s Arms. Any ship that looked even slightly as if it might be carrying the gentry made her run and hide in the back, just in case one of them came in to have a drink before riding off to whatever manor they might be living in. Madeline knew that her fear was ridiculous; she was a solid two days’ ride from anywhere she would be known, and Mistle-Thrush-by-the-Sea was one small town in a sea of small towns. Finding her now would be like finding a needle in a haystack.
However, a small part of her, a part that she did not want to admit existed, felt a little sad at the notion that her family had already stopped looking for her. Why would this bother her? It made her feel so incredibly silly to care about such a thing, especially knowing that she had been the one to leave.
Did that matter? She was the impulsive teenager; she was the runaway bride. Her decision to leave had nothing to do with her love for them, but would her leaving change their love for her? Wasn’t a family’s love supposed to be eternal?
After a week, she wrote a letter.
Dear Mother and Father,
I want you to know that I am safe where I am, although I cannot tell you where I am. I wish you well and hope that my sudden leaving did not cause you any undue pain, although I am not so arrogant as to believe that my actions did not cause some distress to the family, and for that I am truly sorry. It was never my intention to hurt anyone, and I hope that I have not hurt anyone now, but I accept that I might have.
There is no way I could explain why I have done what I have done. There’s no excuse for what I have done, and for that I apologize. I just want you to know that I am safe, have the potential to be happy, and will never forget the family I love.
Please tell Victoria that I hope that she will become happy in her life, however that happens, and tell Winston that I trust that he understands.
All my love,
Madeline
She thought about sending it—she almost did, but instead she tucked it away in the bottom of her traveling bag, now emptied of clothing, and hid it under her small, modest bed.
“He does this sometimes, more often than you would think,” Caoimhe said as Madeline looked longingly out the window at the beginning of her second week of work. Madeline did not know what she was talking about and told her as much. Caoimhe rolled her eyes for effect and swatted at her with a towel.
“If that is your face when you are lying, you better not try to play cards with the sailors when they’re on leave.”
Perhaps he was out to sea; as a sailor, that was his job. Perhaps he only came by once every six months, and Madeline had met him the night before he was to ship out forever. She did not know, she probably did not care, and she most definitely wasn’t thinking about him.
Instead, she focused on getting to know the people she was working with, setting her sights first on Carson. He did not seem to mind, as he had taken to her with an almost brotherly affection. Madeline enjoyed it because there were parts of him that reminded her of Winston, which was bittersweet.
“I was never something so fancy as a lord,” Carson explained. “But my father did better than most in his family. As a banker, he made a decent wage. We did not grow up so bad.”
“How did you end up here?” Madeline asked, and she was genuinely curious. This did not seem like the fate of a banker’s son, but then again being a barmaid did not seem like the fate of a lord’s daughter. Carson rubbed the back of his neck.
“When my Pa died, he did not leave us much—had most of his assets wrapped up. I ended up joining the British Navy, which worked for a while, paid a decent wage, and when I got out I bought this little place. Decided it was as good a place as any to have a business, get married, have children.”
“Are you married?” Madeline had no idea if this was a rude question to ask or not.
“I was married,” he replied. “She died. Thank providence that Caoimhe came around when she did, or else I would have come undone.”
At that moment, Caoimhe brought several freshly washed tankards to the bar. Carson fell completely silent, and Madeline quickly looked away from her, lest Caoimhe become aware that they were discussing her. Of course, being a woman of some intelligence, Caoimhe wasn’t fooled one bit. She looked at Madeline and then at Carson, her eyes narrowing slightly before she moved off to help one customer or another.
“It is good that you had her when you did,” Madeline said quietly in the hopes that Caoimhe could not hear. Carson just nodded before averting his eyes and going back to work.
Later on, Madeline wondered how long Carson had been in love with Caoimhe, and if he even knew that was the case.
By the end of the week, Madeline had most definitely forgotten about Harland, which was why it was such a surprise when she walked out of The Admiral’s Arms one night and came face to face with him.
He was leaning against the very hitching post she had tied Persephone to the first day she arrived at Mistle-Thrush-by-the-Sea. His arms folded over his chest, he looked at her as if she were the only thing he wanted to see at this particular point in time. Once again, she felt that dizzy, sick feeling of being both hot and cold at the same time, and as she walked to him she felt as if her knees were screwed too loose, that she might trip and fall at any moment. If that were to happen, she both desperately wanted him to catch her and also could not stand the idea of him touching her.
What waswrong with her? How could something like this happen? Madeline was cautious. Madeline did not know what love was, so how could she know what it meant now?
“Madeline,” he said, his voice like a melody. She would listen to him say it for hours if he would be willing to. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“No, you haven’t!” she burst out. “You haven’t been in in two weeks!”
He raised an amused eyebrow. “So, you’ve been counting.”
Madeline wished that she could melt into the wood of the docks below her feet, such was her level of mortification. However, he merely smiled at her reassuringly and walked over to her.
“I’d like to ask if you’d do me the pleasure of going for a walk with me.”
It was such a late hour that Madeline wasn’t even sure what time it was. She narrowed her eyes.
“I am not one of those kinds of ladies,” she said, although she wasn’t too convinced of that fact. Harland chuckled.
“It is not that kind of walk.”
“How am I to know that? I barely know you, I’ve only met you once.”
“And I’ve only met you once, and yet I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you since I’ve been at sea.”
Madeline’s mouth went dry. She did not know what to say.
“That is where I was, by the way,” he added. “At sea.”
“Um,” Madeline replied eloquently. She felt like kicking herself after every syllable she spoke to the man.
“I promise, I’ll be a complete gentleman.”
Something in her gave and she nodded, causing his face to light up in happiness. He offered her the crook of his arm, and she took it, her heart almost exploding with delight and anticipation as her skin touched his. What was wrong with her? Cautious and careful Madeline? Her heart could not stop pounding; she felt dizzy. She felt sick. If Caoimhe was right and this was love,she thought that it wasawful.
He led her away from the docks, away from the shouts of drunken sailors and the cooing of certain women of the night. They walked the winding streets of Mistle-Thrush-by-the-Sea, showing Madeline places that she had not yet found the time to see. Work was busy for her, especially because she was so unaccustomed to it, and she had yet to properly explore the town that was her own.
“There’s Kaity’s,” Harland said, pointing to a darkened shop that looked like it sold various sweets. “The greatest taffy you’ve ever eaten.”
“I’ve never eaten taffy,” Madeline admitted. Her mother could never abide sweets once Madeline and Victoria reached a certain age. Once the thin and pale waifish look had become fashionable, her mother had striven for her girls to match it. Both ladies were lucky in that they were naturally thin, but she still longed for the taste of a peppermint stick every once in a while.
“It is a seaside tradition, I suppose,” Harland said. “I did not eat it much growing up as a boy, either. I lived too far away.”