THE BETTER PART OF VALOR. Morgan Mackinnon

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СКАЧАТЬ Barrett Browning, one of her favorite poets, entitled “The Lady’s Yes.”

      Yes, I answered you last night;

      No, this morning sir, I say.

      Colours seen by candle-light

      Will not look the same by day.

      Her attention was caught by a young woman’s giggle. “Oh, fie, sir. You are making that up!”

      Cresta’s shock came when she recognized the masculine voice replying.

      “I assure you, Miss Haynes, it is perfectly true. Cavalry officers are not allowed to lie to a lady.”

      The Irish accent was mellow, which meant he’d been drinking. The table occupied by a young lady of no more than fifteen or sixteen was on the other side of the potted plant. Cresta put down her book of poetry and not so subtly pulled aside a fern leaf. Keogh saw her at the same time she saw him, and his jaw dropped. Cresta let the leaf slap back into place, calmly rose, walked over to the buffet, and put some food onto a plate. She didn’t know what she’d selected, but it did not matter.

      As she returned to her table, Myles rose, telling his charming (very young) dinner companion he’d be right back.

      “Cresta…”

      “Yes, Lieutenant Colonel?” She seated herself and spread her napkin on her lap.

      “I…she…it is not what it appears.”

      Cresta took a bite of salad. “It appears as though you are having dinner with a young lady. Why is that so strange?”

      “Because. I mean, you and I have…”

      She cut him off. “You and I have nothing, Colonel. We shared a table a few times and we talked. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

      “I know that. It is just that… Well, I looked for you this afternoon and you were not around. I have something to explain to you.”

      A voice from the vicinity of the opposite side of the potted fern intruded.

      “Lieutenant KER-nel? Oh, MY-les?”

      Cresta was eating without knowing what she was eating, so it was time for her to put down her fork and rise.

      “Your companion seems to be in need of your services. Good evening.”

      She turned and exited the restaurant, not caring if he was watching her or not.

      *****

      Cresta determined the whole situation was her fault. She stepped in where she should have kept quiet, and although her intentions may have been innocent, the resulting consequences had not been anticipated. She should have thought about what she knew of Keogh and realized his honor and valor on the battlefield were one thing but his ego when it came to a woman was fragile. When with a woman, a man like Myles Keogh wanted to be in control, be the strong one, be the brave one. She’d managed to trample all over his self-esteem with tackety boots. Now he was off having dinner with Miss Haynes.

      She was not going to approach him until he was ready to listen, but neither was she going to go out of her way to avoid him. She stuck to her regular schedule, but it was two more days until she saw the Lieutenant Colonel.

      Since he had not been visible in the informal restaurant nor in the on-deck bar, Cresta concluded Myles was either spending time alone in his cabin (not likely), in the formal dining room (possible) or in the gentleman’s game room, lounge, brothel, and smoking den (probable). She momentarily wondered if he and the Master of Illusion were seeking feminine companionship together. As if someone was reading her thoughts, the Master of Illusion, at that moment, entered the reading and writing room.

      “Ah! Missus Leigh, I do believe! Would you mind if an old reprobate like me sat down?”

      When she indicated she did not, the rascal promptly produced two small glasses and a flask of liquid from inside his jacket. Cresta thought it was scotch, so she sipped as they talked. He asked where she was from, and Cresta replied she lived in Fairfax County, Virginia.

      “Virginia. Lovely place. King’s Dominion is delightful. Do you still have family in the vicinity?”

      Cresta frowned and took a slightly bigger sip of scotch. “My mother still lives in the vicinity. I have an aunt and an uncle in the southern part of the state. And some cousins. Where are you from if I may ask?”

      “Why, here and there, everywhere and nowhere. I have no family to keep track of or to keep track of me. I am a free spirit. A prestidigitator. A magician. An illusionist. A man of many times and places. Let us drink a small toast to the City of Paris. This is April, and it would be such a shame if this vessel were to strike an iceberg in the North Atlantic and sink. Don’t you think?”

      “It would be dreadful, but…”

      The Master was pouring more scotch, and Cresta found herself wondering just how much liquid that flask of his could hold.

      “Yes, indeed. Shame that in this time, we must endure the endless ocean voyages that get us from place to place. It would be so much quicker if we could simply fly. Eh?”

      Get a grip. Cresta felt a trickle of sweat run down between her breasts. He was speaking metaphorically. As in, wouldn’t it be lovely if we could sprout wings and fly like a bird?

      The Master leaned forward and refilled her glass once again. “You like poetry.”

      “Why yes, I do. How did you know that?”

      “I saw you reading Elizabeth Browning in the supper room. She and her husband were so delightful. I remember dining with them when they were in Florence. Lovely people. Did you know Robert made the first known recording of a human voice? He did it on a wax cylinder in an Edison recording device.”

      Cresta sipped, thought about what he’d just said, and then uttered, “Wait a minute…”

      “I understand, my dear. Your young soldier is of concern?”

      Cresta’s thoughts were getting muddled. Was she really drinking ordinary scotch or something a little more mystical than that? She struggled to reply.

      “Of course not. We have just had a little misunderstanding, that is all.”

      The Master stroked his moustache. “Yes. You have seen him with the young lady.”

      “How could you know that?”

      “I see many things. The young lady is the daughter of the ship’s captain, and your Lieutenant Colonel was asked to escort her to supper. He would rather have been with you.”

      Cresta was flustered. “What? Are you on his payroll? And he is not my Lieutenant Colonel.”

      “As I said, I see many things. Sadness, frustration, decisions, desires. Even blood and death.”

      “That sounds ominous, Mister Master of Illusion. Do you have a real name?”

      “I do but it would be meaningless to you at this time. Perhaps someday СКАЧАТЬ