Episode 74
The Danger of Tedium
Arabella was weary of travel, weary and bored beyond reason.
A steam packet had carried Lord Huntoun and company from the port of Blackpool across the Atlantic to Havana. They took rooms at the Hotel Ingleterra while her father, Gregory and the subedar oversaw the unloading and storage of the crated supplies for the Texas expedition. From there they saw their freight loaded and boarded a sternwheeler to cross the Gulf of Mexico for Galveston, Texas. Except for those seven days spent in Havana, they had been at sea for weeks. And now the last leg of the journey across the placid waters of the Gulf in the noisy, stinking paddle boat seemed to Arabella to last an eternity.
She stood at the bow-end of the promenade deck in hopes of catching a breeze created by the boat’s progress. This was in vain as the air was as still as the water. Low clouds entrapped moist air that was stifling and hot beneath them. The frisson of a coming storm could be felt on the bare skin of her neck and forearms, but no rain fell.
On the main deck below her, a crewmember was taking an unusual degree of care with the polishing of a lantern. Each time Arabella glanced his way he would turn his face from hers. She made a game of it, keeping her gaze on his until he turned her way again. When he did, he was as though frozen in place. An ugly brute of a man, a mongrel, his eyes wandered over her from her face to her décolletage with bold regard. She allowed him a long, lingering look before becoming bored with the game. She turned to move along the Texas deck, tapping her collapsed parasol on the rail as she walked.
Arabella paused at the door of her father’s cabin and considered knocking. He and the other men of their party had taken to spending the hottest part of the day out of the sun and awakening in the evening to cooler temperatures. She had done the same until the walls of her cabin seemed to be closing in about her. The churn of the paddles and the rhythmic chug of the engines below created a maddening rhythm that she would do anything to disrupt. Awakening her father only to provide her with the distraction of polite conversation struck her as cruel. Rahul Mushar occupied the adjoining cabin, but she did not consider disturbing him. One could not ask for a better companion on a hunt or a stalk. But the Gurkha wasn’t anyone’s idea of a conversationalist.
She drifted forward once more, heading down the wooden steps that led to the saloon deck below. The sailor who had been so absorbed in bringing the brass lantern to a high sheen moments before was gone away to perform some other task. Arabella stopped before the third door down and tapped at the open lattice screen with the tip of her parasol.
The rustle of cloth and sigh of resignation was followed by Geoffrey Pike opening the cabin door to regard Arabella with an expression of perplexed surprise. He was in shirtsleeves, his collar removed and braces down. His hair was sodden and dripping with perspiration.
“Bella,” he said. “Is something the matter?”
“Just that I fear I am in danger of succumbing to tedium” she said, using her parasol like a fencing foil to make him back into the dim cabin.
He stumbled back a pace before his calves struck the edge of the bunk in the narrowly confined space.
“Well, I suppose I could dress and join you on deck,” he said, reaching for his collar and tie where they rested atop a narrow dresser.
“Or we could talk in here, Geoff,” she said, stepping inside.
“If you’d like.” He looked to her, taken aback to hear her refer to him as ‘Geoff.’ It was not often she uttered his Christian name.
“I would prefer it that way.” Arabella put her back to the door, allowing it to close behind her until the lock clicked in place.
“Bella, excuse me,” Geoffrey stammered. “What would your father say if he were to learn you were closeted in here, alone with me?”
“He won’t say anything if neither of us tell him,” she said, her lips turning up in a crooked smile.
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