A HAZARD OF HEARTS (10 page)

Jo-Beth glared at her father. ‘Pearl is Chinese,
yes. Not a Cannibal Islander. She needs our help, Papa, without any unthinking
prejudice.’

‘Unthinking...!’

‘What have we here, might I ask?’ Amelia Loring’s
voice blasted across the deck, clearing the way for her massive presence. No
concessions had been made to a constricted life aboard ship, and her crinoline,
as stiff and round as an upturned tub, threatened to sweep the deck free of all
obstruction, including other people.

‘My love...’ Josiah Loring did a little
backwards dance step, as if trying to disassociate himself from the scene to
come.

Jo-Beth, quailing inwardly, moved a protective
step closer to Pearl and prepared herself for yet another battle with her mother.
The two men seemed to brace themselves, while even the helmsman, hidden in the
dusk a few yards back, leapt momentarily and let the ship fall away an infinitesimal
distance to the west.

‘Bring her back two points, Mr Jones.’ The
Captain’s tone, quiet and even, was a lesson in control.

Mrs Loring repeated herself more loudly. ‘I
said... what… have… we… here?’ Her bosom, perched aggressively above her
corset, heaved with the force of her words, and beads of jet swung and clashed.

How ugly Mama’s voice was, to match her
temperament, Jo-Beth thought. Well, she’d faced up to her often enough, knowing
the price; she’d do it again for this poor waif. If she must, she’d stand up to
them all. Pearl was not going to be put ashore.

Afterwards she realised the issue had never been
in doubt. Josiah Loring might have the power to alter the destination of a
vessel in port, his wife might have the power to alter his decisions; but
no-one on earth or ocean could supersede the power of a ship’s master at sea. Ethan
Petherbridge made this quite clear, succinctly and without regard to anyone’s
feelings, adding, ‘I never make judgements without having heard the full story.
This young woman will give me her reasons for her action, which I shall weigh before
coming to a decision.’

Pearl bowed. ‘Your mother bore a wise son. May I
say that I am prepared to pay my passage?’ She calmly unpinned her braid,
producing from its depths the great black pearl filched from the Triad’s hoard.
Even Amelia Loring ceased her storming to gasp and stare. Her hand,
outstretched, clutched at thin air as the Captain took it from Pearl’s palm,
slipping it in his pocket.

‘That will be ample reimbursement. If you remain
aboard, I shall have the pearl valued when we reach Singapore and refund the
difference.’

Jo-Beth, momentarily stunned by her parents’
routing, had stood like a stock, as she afterwards berated herself. It was
Pearl who had been gracious, almost regal in her thanks as the Lorings left in
dudgeon, dragging Jo-Beth with them. Jo-Beth was disgusted with herself. All
prepared to be the heroine of the piece, instead she’d found herself relegated
to the background. The handsome Captain had barely noticed her, Miss Josephine
Elizabeth Loring, Belle of Boston, accustomed to male admiration and to the
gnashing of female teeth as she swept by. It was more than perplexing. It was
unheard of.

But the thought of her parents’ reaction to
their defeat brought a smile to her face; and back in her cabin, where Pearl
could now enter only in the role of servant, she hugged the girl delightedly.

‘Wasn’t it just the greatest thing? He was like
a Greek deity on Olympus, detached, distant, calmly ordering the way things
would be. And Papa’s expression! And Mama’s! Oh, there was never anything like
it.’

Pearl tittered delicately in her sleeve.

Jo-Beth’s earlier petulance vanished while her
voice softened. ‘He’s a fine leader, clearly respected by his crew. I’ve
travelled with several ships since leaving Boston and I can tell you the men
are usually either cowed or slovenly and defiant. But this is a happy ship,
because of Captain Ethan Petherbridge.’ Disregarding her listener’s amused
expression, she went on. ‘He’s not precisely handsome, of course – too rugged
and unpolished. Yet there’s definitely something lion-like about him, with his
curly blond mane and beard, and his eyes so golden brown and narrowed, seeking
the horizon.’

Pearl was dismissive. ‘God or lion, he is
certainly massive. He is more like a mountain with muscles, as well as being badly
scarred from temple to lips. Yet he can be kind. He listened to me. I will
allow him to be a strong man, in mind and body.’

‘He must be, to vanquish my parents.’

Pearl’s brows rose. ‘Do you dislike your family
so much?’

‘About as much as they dislike me. I’m a
terrible disappointment to them, you know. They wanted a submissive, featherbrained
doll, accomplished only in the ‘ladylike’ arts , who would ornament the family
name and marry to please them. Instead, they have me. Not only am I physically
over-endowed, as you see, but I have an independent mind to penetrate the
hypocrisy and self-serving that passes for social behaviour. Not to mention a
love of shocking folk.’

Jo-Beth let her grin fade. Sighing, she pulled
back the bedcovers. ‘I’m sorry you have to act as my maid, but it’s the only
way my mother can accept your presence. Captain Petherbridge doesn’t want to
further antagonise my parents.’

Pearl’s cat smile expressed understanding. ‘I am
not troubled by this. I believe your Captain is wise to maintain the peace
aboard his ship whenever possible.’

‘You’re so forgiving, Pearl.’ But she saw Pearl stiffen.

‘Not forgiving. I yield a skirmish to win the
battle.’ She bowed and left for her bed in the narrow cuddy next door.

Jo-Beth lay in the darkness listening to the
sounds of the ship, which always seemed magnified by night. There was no
silence out in the ocean but a rhythmic pulsation, a creaking and tapping and
flapping and the thud of waves against the hull. The ship’s bell sounded the
new watch and feet padded by the door. The cabin rocked gently. Jo-Beth fell
asleep, curled tightly in upon herself, like a child.

As the great clipper followed its course
south the long days stretched ahead with little to fill time for the passengers.
For Jo-Beth, lonely for companionship, it was an opportunity to build a rapport
with the most interesting woman she’d ever met. Pearl, mysteriously oriental, seventeen-going-on-fifty,
challenged the traditional western view of womanhood. She fitted no pattern,
refused to be restricted to one. And Jo-Beth, wildly rebellious against the
physical constraints of her life, intellectually stifled and highly critical of
the roles allotted to females by society, found her fascinating.

Pearl was equally curious about Jo-Beth. ‘Have
you truly been almost around the world? Tell me again about riding the camels.’

Jo-Beth laughed. ‘Malodorous, cranky,
rough-haired ships of the desert, but still infinitely preferable to being shut
up all day in a horse-drawn omnibus to bump across the sandy wastes. We were
glad enough to reach Suez, I tell you, and our Pacific and Orient Steamship
vessel. That part of the journey through the Red Sea then down the western
coast of India was truly beautiful. At night one could smell the land, the
odour of spices and tropical growth born to us on a humid breeze. Magical.’

‘I have never before been beyond the Great
River. The world is very large.’ Pearl sounded almost wistful.

‘Ha. Well, you may have my travels, willingly. We
fled Boston in a snowstorm like criminals absconding. You see, I had disgraced
myself. I’d caused a scandal, thus ruining my chances of an advantageous match.
Mother couldn’t face her friends’ false sympathy. She also thought we should
have a better chance of husband-catching in London, if we could get there ahead
of my reputation. This failed, of course, and Mother rightly blamed me; so
after eight months wasted we abandoned hope and took to travelling instead. Papa
adores it, even, for once standing firm and refusing to return to Boston until he’s
ready.’

‘What did you do that was so scandalous?’ Pearl
sat like a tailor on the cushions of the saloon, her legs crossed under her,
her borrowed skirt bunched and crushed and clearly, to her mind, an impediment.
But her attention was centred on the other woman.

‘I fell in love with a married man and tried to
seduce him.’

‘Seduce? I thought the word applied only to men,
to those who bother to bedeck their intentions.’ Pearl curled her lip.

‘Not always. You may believe that in this case,
the desire was mutual. Unfortunately, or perhaps not, my plan was discovered
and I was bundled back home, my virginity intact. I could hardly say the same
of my back and legs after Mother had finished the whipping.’

Pearl nodded. ‘But that is not what troubles
you, is it? Did your lover fail you?’

In the ensuing pause, Jo-Beth struggled to hold
her voice steady. ‘He didn’t want me. It was all a game to him, so when he
tired of it... He made a fool of me, playing with me like a toy to be handled
and fondled intimately, then throwing me aside. He also acquired a fine story
to regale his friends over the port and cigars.’

‘Ah. Humiliation. That stings.’

‘Betrayal, which is worse. I’ve learned my
lesson. I’ll be the one piping the tune in future.’

Pearl looked thoughtful, but held her peace.

~*~

The weather grew humid as they entered the
tropics. Jo-Beth called it a blessing, since it reduced her mother to a blob
without sufficient energy to interest herself in her daughter’s activities. But
she made no secret of her contempt for Asians in general and ‘the Chinese
trollop’ in particular, and kept her busy cleaning and mending. As a result, Jo-Beth
turned for distraction to what Pearl considered a far more dangerous pastime, the
ensnaring of Ethan Petherbridge.

However, her unsubtle approach – the pouting;
the seductive smiles suddenly switched to pettishness; the parading and the
coquetting, which had apparently entranced her former followers, failed
totally. When confronted by womanly wiles, the gallant Captain merely raised a
satirical eyebrow then withdrew. If this was impossible, he directed his
attention to others present or called up a crew member for orders. His imperviousness
drove Jo-Beth into a frenzy, and she spent hours plotting new ways to entangle
him in her toils. Yet the more she strove to impress, the less success she had.

‘He looks at me as if I’m a child misbehaving,’ she
wailed to Pearl, in the privacy of the cabin. ‘It’s an affront, and I won’t
accept it. I had half of Boston at my feet, let me tell you, but this uncouth
giant, this bumpkin, simply curls his lip when I encourage him a little. His brown
eyes glint with secret laughter. Oh, I could just slap him!’

Pearl, having suffered an hour of similar
diatribe, was snappish. ‘A week ago you were comparing the Captain with a Greek
god.’

‘That was before I had his true measure. Ah, but
I’ll make him regret his attitude. You see if I don’t.’ The injured beauty
flounced away, leaving Pearl to her work.

However the idea that her behaviour had seemed
childish had taken hold on Jo-Beth. Applying her intelligence, she began
altering her manner towards the Captain. Interest in his ship and matters that
interested him were an obvious ploy, but her naturally friendly nature and
genuine desire to understand soon had an effect. Captain Petherbridge began almost
imperceptibly to alter his attitude, seeking the women’s company a little more
frequently to join in their conversations, and showing an appreciation of the
more sophisticated weapons in Jo-Beth’s social armoury.

There was no doubt she could be a delightful,
witty companion when she chose, well-read and, for a young female, well versed
in world affairs. She even played a good game of chess. As for her appearance,
a face so vividly expressive had no need of classical features. Pearl doubted
whether Jo-Beth had grasped the truth, that the basis of her allure lay in her vivacity;
in the wit and intelligence that fought her parents’ stultifying control; in a
spirit that refused to give up. Little wonder that Ethan Petherbridge had
finally succumbed, Pearl thought.

Yet, as she soon realised, he was that rarity
amongst the males of her acquaintance, a moral man who was not a prig. He might
be entertained, even strongly attracted by Jo-Beth, but he would not take advantage.
Jo-Beth, herself, seemed unsure of her effect on the Captain, and Pearl grew
weary of the nightly session before she could go to her bed.

Jo-Beth paced the short length of the cabin,
skirts swinging, her hands locked together. ‘Sometimes I fear he has a heart chipped
from some arctic glacier. Yet his smile can melt my bones. Pearl, tell me. Is
he interested, or merely humouring me? I couldn’t bear to think so.’

Pearl tried to answer. ‘I don’t believe –’

‘Do you know today he held my hand to assist me
onto the upper deck but did not release it for fully ten seconds, all the while
gazing as if seeing me for the first time? I swear his touch caused a frisson
from my toes to my head.’ She halted to face Pearl. ‘Tell me, who is the magnet
and who the needle? Could I be the victim of my own plotting?’ She laughed, but
her unhappy face was more honest.