“Is that why you’ve decided to travel to India, then?”
“When I was very young, an Indian woman at my orphanage was kind to me. No one else cared whether I lived or died.” She risked a glance at Grae, and he looked pained. “Nalia was good to me. She was the laundress. I’d sneak to the room where she stayed, washing clothes for days on end. She told me stories about India as I sat under her folding table. It became this…” Arista stared out over the river, watching it wind through London and disappear into the horizon. She’d never said any of this out loud before, but it felt right and she didn’t stop. “It became this magical place across the ocean that I wanted to escape to. Whenever things got bad, which was most of the time, I clung to the idea that if I could one day get there, everything would be okay.”
A self-deprecating laugh escaped from her. She couldn’t look at Grae again, afraid of what she’d see in his eyes.
“The man who took me from the orphanage—he came often, taking the smallest ones to steal for him in the markets. The night he chose me, I was five. I remember being scared, so I ran to Nalia. She gave me her scarf and told me to never forget that there was a big world out there. I only ever dreamed about it. I never really expected that I might see it one day.”
She turned to look at him. His hair danced in the wind and he stood firm despite the rocking of the ship. She never wanted to stop looking at him; would never grow tired of listening to him tell stories about his adventures. Only, she wanted to be part of them now.
“So, what changed?” he finally asked.
“Everything,” she whispered.
The same man stood on the edge of the crowd, as he had done before. Arista had been watching him for the past ten minutes as he grew increasingly agitated.
Arista had gone to the harbor almost every day for the past three weeks to visit Grae’s ship, learning everything she could from him. She now knew the difference between a mizzenmast and a foremast. She could tie a serviceable knot, and it no longer made her ill to watch the men shimmy up the masts to tug on the ropes. The best part was watching Grae work. His interactions with his men, who clearly respected him, and the way Grae never hesitated to jump in and help with any job that needed to be done, made her heart swell. He was hard-working and kind and when he would catch her staring, his grin lit up her insides.
And now, she could walk across the deck while the ship rolled beneath her feet without stumbling. Joe even tried to show her how to clean the fish they were to put on salt for the voyage, but that hadn’t worked out so well. Arista now knew that fish guts caused retching. At least for her. Even then, Grae had been tender and insisted she rest in his cabin until she felt better.
In the evenings, Grae joined his family for dinner. Afterward in the parlor there was always lively conversation, about anything from politics to shipping routes. The Sinclairs always included Arista in their discussions, even though she had very little to add. Mostly she would sit and listen, especially when Grae talked. His eyes would light up and he would gesture wildly with his hands, and she couldn’t look away. The way the family interacted with each other intrigued her. They were always respectful, even when they argued, and the love they shared was very clear.
She looked forward to those after-dinner moments, but what she really enjoyed were the few precious minutes when Grae would sneak out into the garden and then knock on her door. They’d stand on the threshold of her room, hands occasionally brushing together as they whispered to each other.
Those moments made her ache for so much more than she deserved. They almost made her forget that she still had a job to do. When a messenger finally arrived one morning with a note, reality came crashing back down. Wild specified that she was to meet the same man as before at midnight the following night. There was a packet included that she was to give him.
Now it was quarter past, and she found herself hesitating. She should have concluded their business already, but tonight—the disguise, the lies, everything about what she was going to do—it all made her stomach hurt.