There was an energy in Sydney—from the nearly-constant building activity around the Customs house to the flood of new immigrants following the end of the war with Napoleon. The city pulsed with life, with an optimistic rush to embrace its future.
In short, it was not a bad place to anchor.
Every day, it seemed, he and Jamie had the same conversation—he refused to call it an argument, though it perhaps drifted into that territory more often than not—about her possibly remaining in Sydney.
Kieran wished it.
Jamie refused.
“I will not remain behind without ye,” she said each time he suggested it.
Kieran didn’t want to leaveThe Minerva, but he also couldn’t stomach the risk they took by keeping Jamie aboard ship.
Finally, he had broached the topic of his leaving with Cuthie, hinting that he had been offered another position with a ship in Sydney. After all, Kieran could hardly tell Cuthie the truth—
Surprise! The carpenter’s mate is a woman and my wife!
Cuthie had been intransigent. “I need ye here, MacTavish. I cannae navigate the Great Barrier Reef without your assistance. You’ve made a study of Mr. Flinders’ map. You’ve sailed these waters before. I need your expertise if we’re to survive the voyage. Ye would not want your wealthy friends tae perish, would ye now?”
Kieran had gritted his teeth in frustration.
Cuthie was correct. Kieran had been hired specifically for his navigational knowledge of the waters surrounding Australia. He could hardly leave the Brotherhood to the mercy of Fate. And Andrew and the rest of the Brotherhood would not leave Andrew’s own ship, should Kieran announce he was staying in Sydney. That would be ridiculous.
But even then, Jamie had refused to listen.
“I will not be separated from ye,” she had snapped just the day before. “Ye must cease speaking of this. I willnae discuss it further.”
Sometimes terror clamped down on Kieran’s heart. What if something happened to her? How would he survive her loss?
Marriage, even this irregular one, would bring a measure of protection if her true gender were discovered. As a Scot, Cuthie would recognize their handfasting as a legal marriage.
Kieran just had to hope it would be enough to safeguard her.
“Shall I begin then?” Ewan asked. Waves sloshed at his back, the water shimmering blue and orange with the reflected light of the sunset.
“Please,” Kieran breathed, never taking his eyes off Jamie. “I cannae go another minute without knowing this beautiful lass is my wife.”
22
Eilidh had lied a smidge in her words to Kieran.
She had said she would attempt to remember in her own way, on her own terms.
But that was untrue.
She had no intention of trying at all.
The fear of summoning the black terror was too great.
If a memory rose of its own accord . . . fine. She would accept it.
But she would do nothing to push herself.
Kieran perhaps sensed this, as the following morning, the remaining oranges were left in a basket outside her door with a simple note:
Oranges are only one of many happy memories that await you. Please try, lass.
K
