Page 76 of The Pirate Lord
“Did he ever go looking for her, ever try to hear her side of the story?” she asked.
“If he did, he never told me. Would’ve been near to impossible anyhow. His father took him off to America when he was just a wee thing. Said he wanted a new life for them. But his wife still tormented his mind, and he drowned his sorrows in drink many a night. Gideon once told me they lived in fifteen different towns when he was growin’ up. His father couldn’t keep a position as a teacher on account of his drinkin’.”
That explained why Gideon wanted Atlantis so badly. He wanted a home and someone to care for him, though he would never admit it aloud.
“What made him run away to sea? His father’s beatings?”
Silas shook his head. “He didn’t have no choice. His father drank himself to death when Gideon wasn’t even thirteen, so Gideon went to sea to keep from starvin’.”
“At thirteen? He was only thirteen when he went to sea?” A crushing pain built in her chest. At thirteen, she’d been coddled by a doting mother and a kindly stepfather and given everything she wanted, while Gideon had been huddled in the cold rain on a ship’s deck, running errands and shining a man’s boots.
Her feelings must have shown in her face, for Silas’s voice was gentler than before when he answered her. “It weren’t so bad as all that, lass. Bein’ a cabin boy made a man out o’ him, and that was a good thing, don’t you think?”
Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden, and she turned her face away to hide them. All the times she’d unfairly accused Gideon of cruelty came back to haunt her. If anyone had known cruelty, it was Gideon.
Yet he wasn’t cruel. Far from it. Yes, he’d taken them against their will, and she still thought him wrong for that. But he’d done it thinking he was doing something good. He’d done it for the sake of his precious colony, a place where he could put an end to cruelty.
Indeed, she’d seen how well he governed. He always listened to both sides of a dispute and settled them fairly. He’d kept to his promise that the women would be treated with respect, enforcing that rule with an iron hand. When she’d wanted to begin teaching the women again, he’d shocked her by agreeing. He’d even taken to sleeping in his half-finished house, so his cabin and comfortable bed could be used by Molly, the pregnant woman whose time was nearly come, and her daughter Jane.
He wasn’t at all the dreadful, wicked man she’d first taken him to be. And that made him far more dangerous to her than before.
“You care for the lad, don’t you, Sara?” Silas said, breaking in to her thoughts.
Wiping her tears away, she slowly nodded. “But he hates me for being an English noblewoman like his mother.”
“Nay.” His voice was kindly. “Gideon may be bitter, but he ain’t no fool. He knows a good woman when he gets his hands on one. I think he cares for you somethin’ fierce.”
“Then why didn’t he tell me about her?” It wounded her to think he hadn’t trusted her enough for that. “He told me about his father, but he refused to tell me about his mother, even after we—” She broke off with a blush. “It’s because he thinks I’m . . . I’m like her, isn’t it? He thinks I only care about my family and the privileges I enjoyed in London. That’s why he won’t tell me things.”
“That ain’t true. Mebbe he thought you were like his mother at the first, but he don’t think that now. I’m sure of it. He sees you for what you are.”
“And what is that?”
“The kind of woman he needs. Someone who’ll soften the hardness his mother put there.”
I can’t do that,she wanted to cry.Even if he would let me, I won’t be staying here long enough to be what he needs. I’m going to abandon him, just like his mother did. I’m going to leave when Jordan comes.
But she didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to abandon him. For the first time since Petey had left, she recognized the truth. She didn’t want to return to the grime and sorrow of London. She wanted to stay here to teach the women, to watch the colony grow, and yes, to be with Gideon. She wanted to soothe his hurts and heal his heart.
And she could tell Silas none of that.
“If he ain’t talkin’ to you ‘bout things, you got to be talkin’ to him,” Silas said.
“Talk to him? And say what?”
“How you feel. What you want. It took a mighty lot of my courage to speak to Louisa about . . . well, about things. But thank the good Lord I did, else I wouldn’t be havin’ her for a wife now.”
“I can’t talk to Gideon.” How could she tell him what she wanted when she wasn’t even sure herself? And how could she tell him how she felt when she might be abandoning him any day?
Quickly she rose from her chair and headed toward the entrance. “I’m sorry, Silas, I have to go.”
“Wait!” When she paused and turned toward him, he picked up a bucket and held it out to her. “If you don’t mind doin’ an errand for me, I need this taken to Gideon’s new house. He was askin’ for it this mornin’, said he needed it to haul away wood shavings.”
“I told you, Silas, I can’t talk to Gideon now.”
“Oh, it’s all right. No need to talk to him. He ain’t at his house. He’s helpin’ Barnaby catch fish at t’other end of the island.” When she hesitated, eyeing him suspiciously, he pointed down to his wooden leg. “It’s a far piece for me with me leg an’ all, and Gideon’ll be wantin’ it later.”
“Very well.”
