Ben’s shoulders slumped forward, and I cursed myself for not telling him sooner.
The captain’s face also fell. “This is terrible news. I knew your father for more than thirty years and can honestly say there was no better man.”
“Thank you, Captain.” I swallowed several times to force back the tears. I had already lost enough dignity for one day. The last thing I needed was to start blubbering in front of a dock full of strangers.
A neatly dressed man approached our pathetic little party to whisper something to Captain Harlow, who nodded and got to his feet.
“If you have no further need of my assistance, Miss Kilbrid, I must excuse myself.”
“Yes, of course. Ben will see me safely to the inn.”
“Your servant, miss.” The captain bowed again before returning the short distance to the group of waiting men.
“How are you feeling, Miss Kilbrid?” Ben asked once the captain was gone.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”
“When did he pass?”
“Yesterday evening.”
Confusion briefly edged out the grief in Ben’s face. “Did word come from Brighmor this morning?”
“No,” I said in a hurry. “It’s just that the illness was so advanced, he couldn’t have survived more than another day.”
Ben nodded a subtle agreement. “You must be right.” Pushing to his feet, he moved several steps away to stare out over the water, leaving me alone to sort out this most recent disaster.
A chill settled inside me, and I shivered despite the hot sunlight. For two days my emotions had been a constant battle. Now, I felt only a great weariness. My first thought was to return post haste to the soft downy bed at Meredith House, but my legs could not yet be trusted to go the three blocks to the inn. Denied this means of escape, I remained seated on the dirty wooden crate and tried to sort out what to do next.
The hard reality of my situation stared me bleakly in the face—for the first time I was truly alone in the world, without a single known living relation. More than forty years ago my father had barely escaped from Ireland with a price on his head, leaving behind all of his family and connections in search of a new home. My maternal grandparents were the first on that side to emigrate, also fleeing Ireland for the New World, but they had passed away years before and my mother was their only child. One year after my mother died, my older brother Sean had a serious falling out with our father and left for the West Indies. Three years had passed without word from him when my world was shaken anew with rumors that he had been mortally wounded in a drunken brawl. Now even Samuel Kilbrid, my second cousin once removed, was dead, buried deep in the Atlantic Ocean.
So there I was, eighteen years old with no one to consult but myself. Under the circumstances, perhaps I should have been thankful for options so stark they were easily sorted through. I could return home and marry Nathan Crowley without delay to preserve my property and fortune, or I could return home, refuse to marry Nathan, have my life systematically ruined, and then be forced to marry him in order to save my good name and what remained of my estate. Either way, it would be necessary to suppress my birthright for risk of discovery, until only the memory of my former self remained.
I shuddered at the prospect of such a miserable life and began silently praying for a miracle when my thoughts were interrupted by an angry outburst of voices. To my right, about twenty feet away, I saw Captain Harlow seated on a crate similar to the one I sat upon, behind a makeshift desk constructed of barrels and wooden planks. More than a dozen men stood facing him. One man near the front of this group had started yelling, and only the sight of the many well-armed sailors seemed to stop him from further escalating the confrontation.
Though my heart began to race, Captain Harlow appeared entirely bored as he waited for the man to finish. Finding no further provocation, the man finally calmed down, at which time the captain said something beyond my hearing, to the amusement of those assembled. The man openly bristled at the jest, and I feared the dispute would start anew when he too laughed, thrusting out a hand for the captain to shake. This done, the man pulled a small leather moneybag from his coat pocket. He dropped it on the table, receiving a sheet of rolled parchment in return.
The exchange completed, Captain Harlow waved to a lad barely in his first whiskers, who had been standing nearby in another, more somber group of individuals. This boy walked over to the desk where he was introduced to the man with the parchment. They too shook hands and then walked off together away from the docks. Intrigued by the whole affair, I forgot my own problems for a moment.
“Do you wish to leave, Miss Kilbrid?” Ben asked, having returned to my side when the man first began his angry tirade.
I watched another man walk up to the desk to speak with the captain. “What are they doing over there?”