“Of course. I find that familiarity seems a good antidote to hating one’s neighbor.”
Before Adam could agree, Mr. Barlow appeared. He ignored Adam and Jane to train his attention on Hester.
“Mrs. Byrd. How goes the labor?”
Although Barlow affected a nonchalant air, Adam did not miss the question’s undertone of guilt. Perhaps the man possessed empathy after all. Hester lightly touched his arm and smiled warmly.
“Well enough, Mr. Barlow. Thank you for your kind inquiry. I have experienced worse, although Jane’s stomach is not taking well to sea travel.”
At the sound of her name, Jane stood from the rail. She looked a bit less green than before. Adam retrieved his handkerchief from his coat and offered it to her. She accepted it and dabbed her mouth.
“Thank you, Adam. Possibly, you may be less vile than I have always suspected.”
“You are welcome, Jane. And you may be less of a shrew than I have long believed.”
“But we shall never be friends.”
“Of course. Our dearly departed ancestors would never forgive such betrayal.”
She smiled slightly, as much as her tender stomach seemed to allow. The smile fled her face when she glanced over Adam’s shoulder. He turned to find a red-faced Mr. Pugh looming behind him, the veins of his neck pulsing.
“I am befuddled,” said the bosun with the clipped cadence of barely restrained anger. “Did I not explain my rules?”
Adam nodded vigorously. “Yes, Mr. Pugh.”
“And how many rules do I have?”
“One?”
Mr. Pugh grunted acknowledgment. “And what was that rule?”
Adam swallowed hard. “No idle chatter while on duty.”
Mr. Pugh spread his hands abruptly to encompass Adam, Jane, and Hester. “And what do you call this?”
Adam shrugged and lifted his eyebrows. “Idle chatter?”
The bosun’s chin quivered before the carefully restrained indignation burst forth. “Shut your worthless gullets and return to your labors! I’ll not warn you again!”
His outburst scattered the group, sending Jane and Hester scurrying below while Barlow became immediately scarce. Adam began retreating to the chain, but Mr. Pugh clamped a meaty hand on his shoulder.
“Not you, dandy boy. I’ve a new job for you.”
“Sir?”
“Go belowdecks to pick oakum and to patch and bail.”
A knot formed immediately in Adam’s gut. “Bail?”
“Of course, you lout. This old bucket leaks like a sieve. We must bail continuously to keep her afloat.”
As Adam followed Mr. Pugh belowdecks, he strongly considered the possibility that he might not live long enough to be miserable for the rest of his life.
…
Jane’s empty stomach churned with complaint as she followed Aunt Hester back to the galley. However, its discomfort no longer fully occupied her thoughts.
“Auntie, I puzzle over Mr. Ashford’s game.”
