PoetsandPromises (13 page)

“Oh, let us walk all the way to the end!” Elisabeth exclaimed,
looking down the far arm of the Cobb where it ended abruptly in the waters of
the bay. She blushed. “If the rest of you agree, that is.”

The others good-naturedly agreed and they resumed their
stroll down the top of the seawall, pausing at various points as Shelley noted
different points of interest across the bay. At the end they stood a while in
silence, winds whipping the women’s skirts and pulling strands of hair out from
under their bonnets. Elisabeth stood gazing out over the silvery-gray waves surmounted
by overcast skies of the same hue until Shelley informed the party they must
return for their dinner and even then she only reluctantly turned away.

The next morning Elisabeth rose early and descended to the
main room of the inn where Lady Parker sat at the table sipping tea. Lord
Sherbourne stood at the sideboard filling his plate with rashers, eggs and
kidneys.

“Good morning, Lady Parker, Lord Sherbourne,” Elisabeth
greeted them as she picked up the teapot.

“Good morning, Miss Ashwood,” Lord Sherbourne returned. “You
look very nautical this morning,” he added, his gaze flicking over the dark
blue spencer and white skirt with evident approval.

“Thank you, Lord Sherbourne. I was not certain what attire
would be best. Are Mr. and Mrs. Shelley risen yet?” Elisabeth added as she
carried her tea to the table and took a seat next to Lady Parker.

“Mr. Shelley has already eaten and left upon errands. I have
not yet seen Mrs. Shelley,” Lady Parker replied. She turned to her brother. “I
noticed last night at dinner and also this morning that Mr. Shelley does not
appear to eat meat or drink wine. Is that his usual habit or was it only
because he has the responsibility of our safety for the excursion?”

“Shelley neither eats flesh nor takes spirits,” Lord Sherbourne
answered as he brought this filled plate to the table. “It is a new regimen he
has adopted—for the moment at least—for Hunt informed me he was wont to consume
both in the past.”

“It is most likely very healthy,” Lady Parker commented
mildly, pouring herself another cup of tea. “Although one might find it rather
dreary after a time.”

Elisabeth had begun to spread marmalade on a piece of toast
when Mary Shelley appeared at the doorway, one hand resting on the doorframe
for support, her normally pink-tinged cheeks pale and her steps uncertain.

“I am very sorry,” Mary said after greeting the others, “but
I am feeling quite unwell and fear I will not be able to accompany you on the
sloop this morning. But you must go regardless, I shall be fine here at inn.”

“Indeed I shall not go,” Lady Parker immediately countered.
“It would not do to leave you to the tender mercies of inn servants. I shall
stay with you.”

“And I,” Elisabeth added bravely, although her heart sank at
thought of missing out on her long-anticipated sailing excursion.

“That will not be necessary, Miss Ashwood,” Lord Sherbourne
stated firmly. “Mrs. Shelly will be in good care with my sister’s company.
There is no need for you to miss the outing as well.”

“Indeed she must miss it,” Lady Parker contradicted. “Miss
Ashwood may not accompany three gentlemen without my chaperonage. She shall
stay with Mrs. Shelley and myself and perhaps we will be able to sail tomorrow
if Mrs. Shelley is feeling more herself.”

Elisabeth felt near tears at the thought of losing her
sailing excursion but knew better than to protest. As she fought to keep
herself under control, Elisabeth intercepted a glance from Lord Sherbourne and
the sympathy in his eyes told her he understood her disappointment.

“Could not Miss Ashwood’s maid accompany us in your place,
Charlotte?” Lord Sherbourne asked his sister.

“I suppose that would be acceptable,” Lady Parker conceded
reluctantly.

“Of course it would be,” Mrs. Shelley stated. “Miss Ashwood
must not miss her outing or I should feel quite downcast at being the cause of
such a loss.”

“Then it is decided,” Lord Sherbourne stated with finality.

Elisabeth tried to disguise her relief. Lord Sherbourne had
clearly understood how important the excursion was to her! Elisabeth realized
that Lady Parker was not entirely comfortable allowing her to go with only the
dubious chaperonage of Molly but Elisabeth felt the risk was minimal. They were
very unlikely to meet someone they knew sailing upon the bay. She did feel
rather selfish to desire to go when Mary was obviously unwell. Yet it was true
that she could do little to add to Mary’s comfort should she remain behind so
Elisabeth salved her conscience by helping Mary back to her chamber and
settling her in bed with tea and toast.

An hour later Shelley, Earlywine, Sherbourne, Elisabeth and
Molly stood at the shore where several rowboats were pulled up on the beach.
Elisabeth stood back with Earlywine while Shelley and Lord Sherbourne
negotiated with the rowers.

“Why, they are women,” Elisabeth commented aloud to
Earlywine. “I would not think they would have the strength for such work.”

“Young men were rare in any seaside town during the war,
Miss Ashwood. The press, you know. Even now the press has been ended these
three years past the women continue the work to which they are now accustomed.”

The rowers began to push the boat into the water and Lord
Sherbourne motioned Elisabeth and Earlywine to come forward.

“I am afraid that you must wade to the boat or allow me to
carry you, Miss Ashwood,” Sherbourne informed Elisabeth. “Which shall it be?”
he asked with a challenging look.

“I shall entrust myself to you.” Elisabeth boldly answeredhis challenging look with a flash of her eyes. Sherbourne easily
lifted Elisabeth into his arms, waded to the boat and deposited her safely in
the stern seat, leaving Elisabeth rather discomfited by the experience of being
carried in Sherbourne’s arms. When they had danced together she had been aware
of a oneness that was expressed through the effortlessness of their blended
steps but as the viscount carried her in his arms she knew she had surrendered
her all to him. The other gentlemen boarded after Elisabeth, Earlywine carrying
Molly, and the rowers began pulling toward the sloop with powerful strokes of
the oars. When they reached the yacht the women maneuvered expertly to the side
and Shelley quickly climbed on board the sloop with the agility of long
practice.

“Come, Miss Ashwood,” the poet called to Elisabeth. “You
must come on board next. Please allow Lord Sherbourne to assist you in keeping
your balance in the rowboat and I shall help you from above.”

Elisabeth carefully stood up in the bobbing rowboat and took
Lord Sherbourne’s hand. Although she worried about falling into the bay or
appearing incredibly clumsy as she made the transfer from one craft to the
other, Elisabeth managed to get on board without any mishap and with her
dignity tolerably intact. Lord Sherbourne and Earlywine climbed aboard while
Elisabeth looked about admiringly. “What a beautiful sloop!” she exclaimed,
careful to refer to it by its proper term. Even without the sails up Elisabeth
could admire the graceful lines of the yacht and the excellence of its
appointments. There was not a lot of room to move about but there were places
to sit and she could see steps leading below to what she assumed was the cabin.

“Yes, the
Swallow
is s fine sloop,” Shelley agreed as
the others boarded. “Although at only thirty-five feet she is rather small.
However she is large enough for us to have a pleasant sail.

“Before we get under way there are a few matters I should
address,” Shelley continued, including all four of his companions in his
remarks, although he looked most often at Elisabeth. “First, you must
understand that on this yacht I am captain and you must all do as I say with no
argument and no delay. Sailing requires skill and a sailing vessel can be a
dangerous place to those not accustomed to it. Sherbourne, Earlywine, you have
both sailed before, have you enough knowledge to crew?”

“I believe we do,” Lord Sherbourne answered with a glance at
Earlywine, who nodded his agreement.

“Then, Miss Ashwood,” Shelley proclaimed in cheerful
accents, “they shall be the crew and you and Miss Molly shall be our honored
passengers.

“Would you like me to explain a little about sailing to you
before we get under way?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Shelley, if you please,” Elisabeth answered,
focusing her attention on the poet. “I should find it most instructive.”

“The arrangement of the sails is critical in a sailing
vessel, Miss Ashwood,” Shelley began. “This is a one-masted sloop that is
rigged fore and aft. That means that when the sails are raised there will be
one large sail, the mainsail, from the mast to the stern—that is the back of
the boat—and a smaller sail going forward to the bow called the jib. We
maneuver the sails by lines, which are called sheets.” Shelley continued,
indicating the sheets slapping softly against the mast. He then stepped to the
side of the sloop and pointed at the water.

“You can see by the water that the tide is coming in, Miss
Ashwood. Fortunately the wind and tide are not together, so the wind will take
us out when we have the sails hoisted. We will begin by hoisting the jib—that
is, the smaller forward sail. We will then slip our mooring and sheet in the
jib—that means pull the lines tight—and sail out a way into the bay where we
can let the jib fly, or let it fill fully with the wind. Lastly we will push
the helm hard and hoist the mainsail.” Shelley paused and smiled at Elisabeth’s
rapt attention. “That is enough explanation for the moment, I think, except to
remind you that port is to the left and starboard is to the right when you are
facing the bow.

“One final warning Miss Ashwood,” Shelley said, “Sherbourne,
Earlywine and I shall have to move about on the boat until we are on the bay.
There can also be danger from the sails and boom, which can swing with a great
deal of force. Therefore you and Miss Molly must either go stay below until you
are summoned abovedeck or stay here seated where I tell you.”

“Oh please, I would prefer to stay on deck and I’m certain
Molly would prefer it as well,” Elisabeth begged.

“Then sit here in the stern to the starboard of the helm and
we shall get under way.”

Elisabeth sat where Shelley indicated, not far from where
the poet stood at the helm. She then watched with interest as Earlywine and
Sherbourne obeyed Shelley’s terse stream of orders. Once the jib was hoisted
the sloop began to move slowly out toward the bay and after the mainsail was
hoisted the little sloop began to gather speed. Elisabeth’s heart beat fast
with anticipation as the sloop picked up even more speed and she lifted her
face to the increasing breeze. But a short time later, as they gained even more
speed, Elisabeth suddenly found that her arm, instead of resting on the side of
the boat well above the water, was within inches of the water. Realizing that
the wind in the sails was tipping the sloop to the point that the water was
rushing by just below the rail Elisabeth looked up in some alarm, wondering if
the sloop was about to tip over. Molly clung to the rail with white knuckles
and gazed at her mistress in mute terror.

“Do not fear, we shall not capsize,” Sherbourne reassured
Elisabeth, noticing her alarm. “This is how a sailboat moves with the wind. “

“Yes, and with this arrangement of the sails, for us to
reach a point over there,” Shelley said, pointing to a spot across the bay, “we
cannot go in a straight line but must zigzag. That is called tacking.” He
looked up at the sails. “We will tack now and then you may move about the sloop
until we tack again.

“Ready about!” Shelley called a moment later.

“Ready,” Earlywine and Sherbourne answered in unison, moving
to the sheets on their respective sides of the sloop.

“Hard alee!” Shelley shouted.

Earlywine released his sheets and the sail shifted to the
other side of the sloop as Sherbourne pulled the sheets taut on his side and
cleated them in place as the sloop swung slowly in the other direction as the
sails filled.

“Trim those sails,” Shelley ordered and Sherbourne and
Earlywine immediately made adjustments to the sheets of both sails.

Impressed with Shelley’s new air of command, Elisabeth
looked back at the poet as he stood at the helm. Showing his usual disdain for
convention, Shelley had removed his coat and his frilled white shirt flapped
loosely in the wind. With his long dark locks also blowing in the breeze,
Elisabeth thought the poet looked rather piratical, and she marveled at the
change from his usually soft-spoken though intense manner to one that was firm
and supremely confident. Truly Shelley seemed in his natural element here upon
the sea.

“We shall keep this course for a while,” Shelley said, “and
you may stand up and move about if you wish to do so, Miss Ashwood. Earlywine,
would you like to take the helm?”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Earlywine agreed, going to the stern to
take Shelley’s place at the tiller.

“I think I shall go below for a short time,” Sherbourne
said, suiting his action to his words at Shelley’s nod of agreement.

“Miss Ashwood, would you care to come forward to the
mainmast to see the view from there?” Shelley asked Elisabeth. “I promise you
that you will be safe and it is time you moved about and tried your sea legs,”
the poet coaxed, holding out his hand.

“If you please, miss, I should prefer to stay seated,” Molly
said in a small voice.

“Of course, Molly,” Elisabeth replied, realizing the maid
was frightened. “Perhaps you would feel better if you were to recline on the
seat.”

“Thank you, miss.” Molly took the hard cushion Earlywine
held out to her and leaned back against it, closing her eyes.

Elisabeth gamely stood up and took Shelley’s hand, feeling
it was acceptable for her to do so under the circumstances since she did not
wish to fall and was not accustomed to walking upon a pitching deck. Her
initial steps upon the oaken deck were unsure as the yacht rolled first one way
and then another, throwing her off balance, but as Shelley led her forward to
the mainmast Elisabeth’s sense of balance accustomed itself to the rhythmical
movement of the waves and she loosened her grip upon his fingers and ceased to
stumble.