Ghost of the Thames (15 page)

“Today was certainly fuller than
either of us intended,” he said. “You get a good night’s rest.
Tomorrow, when I come for you, we can plan what needs to be done
next.”

Sophy was surprised. Clearly, whatever
it was that Archibald Acton told him, his passion for her had
melted away in the evening mist. The old gentleman had seemed to
have no doubt that she had spent time in India. She now believed
that, as well. Why that would bring about such a change in the
captain, though, was a mystery.

She peered glumly out the window. At
the corner where they turned onto her street, Sophy saw the ghost
on the sidewalk, watching the carriage pass. There would be no
escaping her.

Sophy sat back and looked across at
the captain. “You can’t be retiring so early.”

“I am not retiring. But you
are.”

“But are you coming in with me
first?”

The inside of carriage was dark, but
she didn’t miss the touch of amusement creeping into his
expression. “What are you up to, Sophy?”

She tried to think of an excuse, but
there was none.

“I . . . you . . . I don’t know. I
just thought since the ride to the docks—.” She felt her face go
warm. She couldn’t even talk about their kiss without losing her
nerve. “I am so sorry. I am not very good at this.”

“You are perfect at it,” he said
quietly, kissing the back of her hand and letting go. “And that is
why I will not come up to your lodgings. I don’t trust myself alone
with you.”

The carriage rolled to a
stop in front of the house. “But you
can
trust me. I’ll make sure nothing
happens between us.”

He must have heard the note of
desperation in her voice. “Why do you want me to come up? Is
something wrong?”

Sophy wished she could tell him. “I
have this feeling again. This sensation of restlessness. I don’t
know. I may need to go out there, chasing I don’t know
what.”

“You will
no
t
leave this house, Sophy,” he said in a stern tone. “You gave
me your word.”

She gave an obedient nod.

“There is so much that you discovered
today about your past. You would not be foolish enough to put
yourself in some kind of senseless danger, would you? There is no
purpose to it.”

He had no idea that she had little to
say about any of this. Sophy peered out the window at the street.
The ghost was there by the door, waiting.

He stepped out of the carriage ahead
of her and reached up to help her out. “Your hands are freezing.
You are shaking. Are you sure you are not falling ill?”

“I think I am,” she said, relieved for
the idea.

“I’ll send for a doctor.”

“No,” Sophy said, leaning against him
after she stepped out. She clutched at his arm. “You are right.
Today was too much. I’d like to speak to someone about it, but you
are the only one I can confide in. If you would just sit with me
upstairs for a short time. Please, Captain. That will make me feel
better.”

Whatever resolve he had, disappeared.
Sophy was relieved to know there was still some feeling left in him
for her. He gave directions to his driver and walked with her to
the door.

The ghost blocked her way. Sophy would
have to walk straight through her. One step away from the young
woman, she stopped.

You need to go back to the
docks on the Isle of Dogs. Something is waiting for you at a
warehouse there
.
You need to go back. Time is short.

Sophy looked up at Captain Seymour. He
couldn’t see the spirit; he hadn’t heard her words.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t send for a
doctor?” His face showed nothing but concern for her.

“No,” she said in a small voice,
forcing herself to take the next step.

Her fingers cut through the
apparition. A chill colder than any ice sliced through her body in
an instant. Then, with the fast moving power of a windstorm, images
whirled in her mind.

A city street of red clay. Buildings
of white-washed stone spun at the edges of her vision. All around
her, the homely sound of brooms sweeping the dirt with the rhythm
of music. Suddenly, children surrounded her, their voices like a
thousand tiny birds. Young faces looked up at her with absolute
trust. Clasped hands and entwined fingers formed a human rope. Two
small hands took hold of hers. They were soft and cool, pulling her
toward a body of water that she could see at the end of the street.
Masts of ships rose in the distance, piercing an azure
sky.

Above the children’s voices, the roll
of far off thunder grew ever closer, ever louder, until the happy
voices became screams. She tightened her hold on the small hands as
the wind whipped up. She knew she must protect them. The red dust
swirled around them, blinding her. She cried out to hold on, but
the children’s faces, one by one, were torn away. She held tight to
the last two, but they too were pulled into blinding storm. She
stood alone, feeling the chill of desolation at having failed. And
then the wind was gone, and all she heard was the sound of the
brooms in the red dust.

The apparition left her. Sophy gazed
vacantly at the captain, feeling her own blood again pulsing in her
veins.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
He shook her gently by the shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

There was no storm, no red dust, no
children left to protect. She looked around. They’d never even
gotten through the door. Tears clouded her vision.

“I need to go.” She stepped back,
slipping out of his embrace.

“Go? Where?”

“To the Isle of Dogs. To a warehouse
at the West Indies Docks.”

“Why would you want to do that? Have
you lost your mind?”

She didn’t answer him, but started
down the street toward the square. The carriage was still sitting
at the curb, and the driver looked from her to the captain. She
went by him.

Sophy had no doubt that her guide
would lead her to the place. Captain Seymour called after her
again, but she only sped up. He caught up to her before she had
gone thirty paces. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. His face
was livid.

“What
do you think
you are
doing?”

“This is a matter of life and death,
Captain,” she said desperately. “Please let me go.”

“What
is matter of life and death? You are talking
nonsense.”

“No. Children. There are children in a
warehouse there. I have to get to them before it’s too
late.”

“What children? How do you know
this?”

“I just know.” His hold on her arm was
bruising. She couldn’t get away.

“Did you know this an hour ago? Did
you know this when we went there this afternoon?”

“No, all of it came to me
now.”

“You might be imagining
it.”

“No. I’m not. I know they are there.”
Tears sprang to her eyes again. “Please, Captain. I beg you. I need
to get there before it’s too late.”

He cursed under his breath and dragged
her by the arm back toward the lodgings.

She planted her feet. “What are you
doing?”

“Taking you to the Isle of
Dogs, of course.
That
is
where you want to go. Isn’t
it?”

Sophy nodded and climbed in to the
carriage. The driver was looking at them as if they were both
mad.

“You heard her,” the captain told him
as they climbed into the carriage.

“Thank you,” she whispered as he sat
across from her.

“If I had any sense left in me, I
would be taking you to an asylum right now.”

“You can do that, of course, but
later.”

As the carriage lurched away from the
curb, Sophy tried to not flinch under the Captain’s scrutinizing
glare. He had every reason to think she was crazy. It was perfectly
understandable that he should be angry, too.

“Tell me,” he started. “This sudden
realization. Did it happen the same way the last two times you set
out in the middle of the night?”

“Yes.”

“And with the same
urgency?”

Their knees were touching. There was
no warmth passing through that touch, though. She could feel his
anger even through the contact of their clothing. Sophy moved her
knees, inching as far away from him as she could.

“Not exactly the same urgency as
tonight. Those other times, I had no images of children in
danger.”

“But each time, you still give no
thought to the time of night or to the threat you could be bringing
on yourself?”

She didn’t think he expected an
answer, so she gave him none. She also didn’t think it would be
wise to remind him that it was still early in the evening and the
streets were fairly busy. No sense quibbling, she
thought.

“
There are miles of
waterfront warehouses between Limehouse and Blackwall. Do you know
where exactly we are going?”

“I can tell you the way once we get
back to the quay where we were this afternoon.” Sophy prayed that
the ghost would be there.

He studied her in brooding silence for
some time before he spoke again. “And who are these children that
you are trying to save? Where did they come from?”

“I really don’t know.”

“Could you explain to me how your mind
works?”

“I am not a madwoman,
Captain.”

“You might not be mad, but you do
behave in the most irrational ways sometimes,” he fumed. “I am
still very interested in knowing how it is that a person can
suddenly become completely obsessed with doing something, going
somewhere, and doing so at that very moment. I am completely
perplexed at what I witnessed tonight. This change in you happened
in just seconds.”

There was no explaining it to
him.

“These images that come to me,” she
said, pausing. “I believe that they have something to do with my
lost memory.”

“A memory should indicate something
that has happened in the past, not some trouble that lies directly
ahead of you,” he corrected her. “And you have proven to have a
knack for walking into danger.”

Sophy couldn’t argue that with
him.

“So what threat lies in wait for us
tonight, Sophy?”

Instead of answering, she glanced at
his cloak, where she knew he hid a pistol.

“No.” He shook his head. “You cannot
borrow it.”

They rode in silence through the city,
through Cheapside and White Chapel to the Commercial Road that led
to the Isle of Dogs and the West Indies Docks. When they reached
the docks, the carriage stopped as Sophy heard the driver speak to
men who patrolled the area at night.

“Come here beside me for a moment,”
the captain ordered when they were moving again.

Sophy stared at him and then
acquiesced. When she was next to him, he lifted the bench seat
where she had been sitting, revealing a concealed compartment.
Peering around him, Sophy could see a half-dozen pistols and
several short swords and knives stowed in the space. He quickly
strapped on a cutlass, loaded two more pistols, and tucked them
into his belt.

“And a weapon for me?”

The captain stared at her, and even
though his face was in shadow, she knew he was smiling.

“No,” he said..

“I am quite capable of
helping.”

“Would it do any good at all,” he
said, “to ask you stay in the carriage and let me go and look into
whatever warehouse it is that you want checked?”

“No. I can’t give you directions. I
need to come with you.”

“Sophy.”

“I have told you everything I know, so
far. You need to trust me, Captain.”

“I could say the same
thing.”

She held his gaze for a moment, and
then moved to the edge of the seat when the carriage came to stop.
She pulled up the hood of her cloak and knotted the tie at her
neck.

“Wait here a minute so I can speak to
the driver,” he said.

As soon as he stepped out, Sophy
looked over at the compartment. She could easily take a pistol. She
decided against it. He was helping her, trusting her, and she did
not want to betray that trust.

Sophy heard the Captain telling his
driver to go and fetch the men he’d run into at the docks earlier
in the day. He knew which ship they were on and told the driver to
check a nearby tavern.

The moment he opened the carriage
door, Sophy stepped out.

“We will wait until my man returns
with help,” he warned her.

She looked about her. A quite
different view of the docks presented itself, so unlike the place
she’d seen earlier in the day. The number of men milling about was
a fraction of the crowd filling the docks earlier. Those who were
here were drinking, and hanging about the open doors of taverns and
chop houses scattered among warehouses and chandleries and shipping
offices. Halfway down the dock, a bonfire was burning and there was
a raucous crowd gathered around it. She could hear the sound of a
fiddle and hornpipe, and there was drunken singing to accompany the
musicians. As she watched, an argument broke out but quickly
abated. Along the edge of the quay, several prostitutes were
walking, displaying their wares and soliciting the attention of
mildly interested sailors lounging aboard one of the ships. A trio
of sailors staggered past the carriage, breaking off their singing
only to leer at Sophy and make a number of incomprehensible
remarks, regardless of presence of Captain Seymour.