Page 17 of Valour

“Welllllll…” Hester said, her lips curving upwards. “He thinks I did.” She raised a hand, her fingers crossed, and winked at Fliss. “But he’d tied my hands behind my back, and it was all too easy to cross my fingers.”

Fliss grinned. “You wily old dog. So we’re still going?”

“Of course we’re still going. But he threatened to scupper the Valour if I don’t refuse the offer of employment, so we’ll have to be covert in our preparations. Take some messages to the crew and to Amery House for me in the morning? Charlotte will have to pretend she no longer wishes to go south. We’ll make all of our preparations under cover of night, rather than muster here tomorrow. We’ll aim to leave in early August.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

“Alright. You can read first,” Hester said, motioning to the book. “Is it a particularly filthy bit?”

“It’s outrageous,” Fliss said, her eyes lighting up.

7

IN WHICH THE VALOUR PROCEEDS

8th August 1914, Havenport

Charlotte could hardly believe that the time had arrived. She stood next to Hester, who leant against the wheel of the Valour. The docks were dark, what with it being a little past two o’clock in the morning. The shadows of the crew crept about the deck, gilded by the moonlight. The wind whistled through the rigging, an eerie sort of noise that had the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

Everything had been steadily smuggled on board over the summer, including twenty-nine sled-dogs, who were kept quiet with a crate full of bones below the deck.

She thought of her mother as she stared out past the harbour wall and towards the vast, pitch-black sea beyond it. An immense weight of guilt in having left without saying goodbye settled along Charlotte’s shoulders. She took steady breaths, trying to dispel the churning in her gut. She had left a letter for her mother with Alma, who knew of her plans, and it would be delivered at lunchtime when Charlotte would be far from shore.

“You’re anxious, aren’t you?” Hester whispered, her green eyes fixed on Charlotte.

“Of course,” she replied, twisting the hem of her white cotton blouse, the one with billowing sleeves she’d had Hester order for her. It was like a breath of fresh air to get out of the black dresses, and wearing breeches was a revelation.

“Everything will be fine. You’ll see,” Hester said, smiling so that her gold tooth shone in the moonlight, along with the rings in her ears. “We have a motto on the Valour, Charlotte. Valour in the face of fear.” She pulled down her shirt to reveal a tattoo over her heart showing those words, written on a flowing banner, three stars surrounding them. Charlotte took a deep breath. Yes, she could follow that motto. Most probably. Her next thought was of Ernie. Oh, he would be so proud to see her. Of that, she was sure.

Fliss ran along the deck towards them, her feet bare and silent. “Ready when you give the word, Captain.”

Hester nodded, and simply said, “Proceed.” Fliss turned and ran back towards the masts and relayed the order to the rest of the crew.

A few moments later, three white sails unfurled with a snap from the masts. The wind filled them quickly, the canvas straining. They couldn’t risk starting the engine and making noise to alert Septimus, and so the plan was to leave the harbour under sail, which was a difficult business as the ship was so large and the harbour entrance so small. Charlotte had no doubt, after observing her over the past few weeks, that Hester was up to the task.

Ropes that moored the Valour to the land were hauled on board, and the ship began to drift away from the quay. Hester flipped a gold coin into the water, and Charlotte cocked her head in question.

“A toll to Neptune, for safe passage.” Hester twitched the wheel from one side to the other as she manoeuvred the vessel into the middle of the harbour, and sniggered as they passed by the Intrepid, blowing a kiss in its direction before focussing her sights on the gap in the harbour walls.

Charlotte staggered as Hester spun the wheel, lining the ship up with the gap perfectly. Hester threw out a hand to grab hold of her, and Charlotte clutched at the captain’s arm until she found her feet again. She couldn’t quite bring herself to go barefoot, instead wearing rubber sea boots, her navy breeches tucked into them. She watched the Intrepid with her breath held, sure that the cunning lord was about to emerge from the shadows. The other ship remained empty and silent.

But wait—did her eyes deceive her? Or was there a patch of darkness blacker than black standing on the deck of the Intrepid? “Hester,” she whispered, pointing into the night.

Hester turned to look, her lips curving upwards. “Well, well.”

The figure—for it was a figure—turned and disappeared into the shadows.

“Was it him?” Charlotte asked, biting her lip.

Hester shrugged. “Or one of his crew. Fear not. There’s nothing he can do now.”

“Are you certain?”

“Unless he plans to chase us, I’m certain.”

The Valour slipped silently between the harbour walls and out into the ocean beyond, heading south. Charlotte tried to read the letters inked on Hester’s fingers. HOLD FAST. She flexed her own hands. She’d never have the courage to get a tattoo.

A gaggle of the crew had sidled up from the lower deck and stood before the wheel, curious looks on their faces. Charlotte shrunk behind Hester, her hand searching for the soft comfort of Marjorie, but the dog was not there. Was nowhere to be seen, in fact. How very odd.