“Oh, you’re so happy for me?” The sunlit sea beyond the ships blurred as the warm haze that had lingered since the waterfall began to fade. “Well, don’t be. You see, he leaves any minute. And I’ll never see him again.”
Saying the words aloud made the reality of it sink in all the more.
It wasn’t fair. She’d finally met someone worth pursuing, and he would be gone in the blink of an eye, yet another opportunity slipping away. If she didn’t do something, the cycle would continue the rest of her life until she was an old spinster—or her father married her off to the elderly Wentworth. But what could she do?
She began to pace in front of the window. “You know, Lola, maybe I’ve been doing it all wrong. My whole life, I’ve been waiting for something good to happen. Maybe that’s the problem. Being patient has gotten me nowhere. Maybe I need to take my destiny into my own hands.”
Silence surrounded her as she wrung said hands. How did one take control of their destiny? If only she could find a way to spend moretime in the company of the lieutenant. Short of sabotaging his ship—which, considering theTempest’ssize and might, she wasn’t sure would even be possible—there were no other options.
Unless…She stopped short.
He said he was taking on more men and supplies once he returned to Savannah. That would surely take the lieutenant several days to organize. Plenty of time, then, for her to make an impression. Her lips tingled at the memory of his searing gaze beneath the spray of the waterfall. They had come so close to kissing while the thunder of the falls echoed the wild rush of her blood. A flush of heat prickled up her neck as she imagined his strong hands pulling her in and closing the distance. A few more meetings, a few more conversations, and she maybe could convince him she was worthy of his attention.
But having the chance to do so meant she had to go to Savannah, and the only way to do that would be on theTempest. She snorted. A military ship would not lightly take on passengers. Finding another ship heading that way that would take her on could take a month or more, and Lieutenant Caldwell would be long gone by then. Not to mention, her father would never allow it—especially with Wentworth’s impending visit.
“Blast it.” Her shoulders slumped and she turned to her bed and sat with a huff.
So much for taking her destiny into her hands.
She’d enjoyed herself today. More than she had in a long time.
Her fingers curled into fists in her sheets, brushing against a pile of folded laundry she had neglected to put away. The velvety lambskin of her breeches stuck out amongst cotton and linen. She glanced down and picked them up. If she were a boy, she could perhaps get hired onto theTempest’screw.No. They wouldn’t hire non-American sailors.
But, as a boy, she could walk around the docks unnoticed. And if she were unnoticed, maybe she could get onboard the sloop. Surely on such a massive ship, there would be plenty of secluded spots for one tohide. Her pulse quickened. She was absolutely not thinking of stowing away on a ship.
Or was she?
She stood and shook out her breeches, eyes drifting to the window. From here, the sails of theTempestgleamed in the midday sun, rising above the harbor like silent sentinels. A hush lingered over the town, the usual clamor of Main Street dulled in the heat. Even the gulls seemed quieter, circling lazily above rooftops.
Could she do it?
A nervous laugh broke free. No, it would be too daring—too bold.
And then a familiar sound broke through the sun-soaked silence. The mockingbird’s trill. Her heart began to race. Was it a sign?
Everything happened for a reason.
The compelling words she’d thought of the night she first met Lieutenant Caldwell burned through her until she nearly vibrated with the thought. If she stayed, she would have to endure the pursuits of Mr. Wentworth. And if she thwarted that match, who knew whom her father would bring next. If she went to Savannah, she had a chance at something else, something she would never have here on Tortuga. She spun and yanked open the door to her wardrobe. An old leather satchel stuck out from beneath a stack of her straw hats. She tugged it free and gave it a shake, sending a cloud of dust flying. The small interior gave her little space to work with.
She could buy things in Savannah, but should bring at least one nice outfit. Her single ball gown—never used—would take up too much space. Even her day dress, with its ruffles and flounces would be too much. Drat. Maybe just a couple of her newer skirts and blouses then. She folded them and stuffed them into the bag along with stockings and slippers with enough room left to press a nightgown on top. Her reticule, full of coins she’d won at the tavern, followed, hidden between layers of clothing.
At her vanity, she swept a pile of hair pins, some ribbons, and abrush on top of the nightgown and began to pull the drawstring closed. Lola gave a loud squawk and Josephine paused her frenzied packing. “You’re right. I can’t leave you behind.”
She scooped a handful of seeds from a box on her shelf. Dropping the feed into a small pouch, she ran her fingers over the treasures laying there. In light of what she was about to do, they suddenly seemed so small and inconsequential. Yet, she couldn’t help picking up the key, the comforting weight a subtle temperance to her racing pulse. Pressing her lips together, she slipped it onto a ribbon and tied it around her neck—a good luck charm for her voyage.
She undressed and pulled on her breeches. A long linen strip was folded with her men’s shirt and she wound it tightly around her chest, wincing as her breasts protested the sudden containment. After shrugging into the shirt, she picked up Lola and tucked the bird in the outermost layer of her binding, flipped onto her back. She’d learned over the years that the position would nearly put Lola into a trance. Hopefully, it worked for long periods.
Once she buttoned up, she went to the vanity and used the remaining hairpins to twist her damp hair into a bun at her crown. She used the last pin to fasten one of the straw hats in place and stood in front of the mirror. The shirt hung loose, which might raise some eyebrows, but the one time she’d tried tucking it in, Colette had stopped her and told her if she swayed those breech-clad hips in public, she’d have a whole line of men following her home.
With one last look around her room, she tiptoed out into the hallway and down the stairs. A moment later, she stepped onto the porch, clicking the door shut behind her.
Her throat had gone thick and she forced herself forward.Don’t look back.If she did, her resolve would crumble. Even now, the hot sting of tears pressed at the corners of her eyes. Leaving without saying goodbye seemed so cowardly. She straightened. No choice if her plan was to work. She would write to her father once she arrived in Savannah.
With a deep breath, she hurried down toward the harbor. The sun stood high now, casting sharp shadows across the rooftops, and she quickened her pace.Please let the cargo still be loading.She picked her way down the familiar shortcut, heart pounding harder with each step.
What if she was too late? What if the sails were already raised and he was gone—
She broke through the last row of palms, breath catching.
