Page 101 of Valour

“You’re not shooting my dogs!” Hester yelled, stamping her foot.

Charlotte gasped, the bottom falling out of her stomach. “No! Absolutely not.” She ran into the middle of the circle, her finger pointed at Septimus. “You cannot. It’s my expedition. I bought the dogs. You cannot eat them. I won’t allow it.”

Septimus sighed. “We can’t fit them all in the lifeboats. At some point they’ll either starve to death, or we’ll have to shoot them rather than leave them on the ice. We had to shoot three last week who turned lame on the march, and five died of worms the week before.” He turned to take Hester’s hands in his own and kissed her knuckles. “You know it makes sense.”

Charlotte gripped Arnold’s arm tightly, nausea taking over her stomach. She couldn’t abide this. “They’ll fit in the boats. They have to! I won’t have it.”

Septimus only shook his head. “I’ll shoot my own if you won’t allow yours to be shot, but it makes sense to lose two teams for now.”

Hester crouched by Sooty, wrapping her arms around her neck. “You cannot shoot Sooty!”

“No, not Sooty. Some of the others. Perhaps we should put it to a vote.”

“Please.” Charlotte looked at each crew member in turn, her hands wrapped together, heart in her mouth. “Please don’t.” This couldn’t be happening.

Hester threw her hands up, tears lining her eyes. “Fine. Those in favour of shooting two teams of the Intrepid’s dogs, raise your hand.”

Charlotte turned and ran from the group, Arnold following her as she crashed through the tent flaps and threw herself to the floor.

“I cannot see who votes. I swear, this is the worst day I’ve had here.” She burst into tears, getting inside her sleeping bag until her head was covered, the dark encasing her as she wept. Marjorie lay down next to her, whining.

“I know it’s hard. I know.” Arnold’s hand rested on her shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you agree?” She went rigid under his touch.

He remained silent, and she poked her head out to fix him with a glare.

He huffed a miserable sigh. “I don’t like the idea, but it’s getting to the time when difficult decisions have to be made. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

“I’d give up my place in the lifeboat for Marjorie, for her pups. I’m not shooting them. I’d rather die. It’s all my fault those poor animals are going to be murdered.” She sobbed harder, sure her heart would break, and Arnold wrapped his arms around her, laying down by her side.

“The dogs have had the most wonderful time, doing what they love best. And nothing will happen to your most beloved ones, don’t fret about that.”

Shots rang out, and Charlotte wailed, pressing her hands to her ears. Arnold held her tighter, until the gunshots stopped. She felt him get into his own sleeping bag and nestle up behind her, like he did every night, his knees tucked up under hers. She wiped her eyes, ruffled the fur between Marjorie’s ears and took a deep breath.

When things are darkest, look to the light.

He was her light. She was sure of that now.

Charlotte rolled over to face Arnold. She looked into his hazel eyes, at the longing there, and hoped it was answered in her gaze.

It was time to come clean about that night.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Surely telling him wouldn’t be as bad as what had just happened. She took a shaking breath. “A few years ago, I met a man. A charming man, or so he seemed. I met him at one of Ernie’s parties, before we were married. I wasn’t even meant to be there on my own, but I was keen to find a man who wasn’t my mother’s choice. Stupid, I know.”

Arnold’s brows bunched up, and she knew she was talking too fast.

She continued, because if she stopped, she wasn’t sure she could carry on. “Anyway, he offered to show me his ship, and I slipped away with him, into the night. And he led me to an alley, and he—” She stopped there, tears filling her eyes. Oh, she had never told anyone but Ernie. And surely Arnold would change his mind about her.

Arnold pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. “He harmed you?”

“I mean, he didn’t get far. He didn’t—” she couldn’t say it. “He hitched my skirts and hurt my thigh, before someone heard my scream and stopped him.”

“Oh, Charlotte. I’m so sorry.” He drew back to look at her, eyes full of sorrow. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“And I felt so ashamed that I’d gone on my own without a chaperone. I thought I was so clever. But I was a fool.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You’re no fool, Charlotte Bailey.”