Page 14 of House of Salt and Sorrows
My guard shot up. Papa always cautioned us to be on the lookout for pickpockets and thieves when outside Highmoor. Perhaps returning my coin was merely a ruse to swindle me out of greater sums.
“I’m new here and was looking for the captain.”
I squinted, keeping a wary eye on his hands. Papa said many were so skilled in the art of thievery, they could steal the rings from your fingers without you being the wiser.
“It’s a large wharf,” I stated, gesturing to the dozens of boats around us. “With many captains.”
He smiled guilelessly, his cheeks betraying a trace of his chagrin, and I thought perhaps his intentions were pure. “Yes, of course. I’m looking for Captain Corum. Captain Walter Corum.”
I shrugged, wishing the light in his eyes didn’t fluster me. After so many years of being locked away at Highmoor, I had almost no experience with men. Even speaking with Papa’s valet, Roland, for more than a question or two left me a rosy, stammering mess.
I pointed toward the marketplace farther down the harbor. “Someone there will know.”
The stranger’s eyes dimmed a touch, his disappointment evident. “But not you?”
“I’m not from Selkirk.”
He turned to go.
“Are you to sail for him?” The question burst out too loudly. “For Captain Corum?”
He shook his head. “He’s sick. With scarlet fever. I’ve come to take care of him.”
“Is he very ill, then?”
He shrugged. “I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.”
I remembered how everyone gathered at Ava’s sickbed when she fell ill. The room was kept dark, the curtains shut tight against the light. The healers said to heat the plague out of her body, and it grew unbearably stuffy with the fires stoked as high as Papa dared. Even so, Ava’s teeth chattered so loudly, I feared they’d crack apart, falling from her bloodied lips like hailstones raining down.
But the stranger didn’t look like a healer. He was made to be on a ship, high above the sea in the crow’s nest, halfway to the stars. I could picture the wind tugging at his dark curls as he scanned the horizon for adventures.
“I hope he’s soon on the mend,” I offered, my hands fumbling, unsure of what they were supposed to be doing. “I’ll say a prayer to Pontus tonight for a swift recovery.”
“That’s very kind of you…” He trailed off, clearly seeking my name.
“Annaleigh.”
His mouth curved into a smile, and my breath caught as a bundle of nerves fluttered deep within me.
“Annaleigh,” he repeated, and on his tongue my name sounded full and lush, like a line of poetry or a hymn.
“Thaumas,” I added, though he didn’t ask. I sounded like a staggering simpleton and wanted to sink into the waves.
His eyes lit up, as if he recognized my surname, and I wondered if he knew Papa. “Annaleigh. Thaumas.” His grin deepened. “Beautiful.” He swept into a deep bow, holding his arm out like a gallant courtier. “I hope our paths soon cross again.”
Before I could voice my surprise, he’d left and was halfway down the busy pier, ducking around another approaching crate.
“Wait!” I cried out, and he paused, turning back.
His face was painted in unexpected pleasure as he waited for me to continue.
Though my cheeks warmed, I stepped closer. “I can show you the way to the marketplace…if you like.”
He glanced toward the covered stalls several docks down from where we stood. “That marketplace over there?”
His light tone suggested he was teasing, but my stomach writhed in its foolishness. I forced myself to smile. “Yes, well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find your way.” I nodded once. “Good day…” I didn’t know his name, and the farewell felt open-ended. “Sir,” I added, two seconds too late.
As I retreated toward my dinghy, my face burned scarlet. Suddenly I felt a hand slip loosely around my wrist, twirling me to face the handsome stranger once more. I grabbed his forearm to steady myself. He seemed taller somehow, and I noticed a thin, crescent-shaped scar on his temple. I knew I was staring and quickly took two steps backward, allowing for the proper amount of space between us.
