The Hawk and the Jewel Page 5

  "My birthday was yesterday," she whispered. "I had forgotten how the days were passing." She looked absolutely bereft, and Brandon came away from the desk and joined her on the edge of the bunk.

  "Sunny, look at me," he commanded softly, and spoke again when she brought her eyes to his. "You're forgetting how you came to be at the palace."

  Sunny looked completely confused, so Brandon explained.

  "As with most things, Ahmad Khan did not know your birth date either. You were born on November 11, 1830, which is still over three weeks away."

  Bewildered, Sunny blinked at him. Would the surprises ever stop? Would she ever really know who she was and where she belonged? After just a few short weeks at sea, Sunny already found her mind to be a confused mixture of Darhabar and England. The wind on the deck was always cool, and she was thankful for the heavy cloth used for her clothing. But there were never mounds of pillows for her to lounge upon, and though she tried sitting cross-legged on her bunk, it was not the same.

  She had finally grown accustomed to sitting in a chair and eating with silverware and using both hands in the process, but some of the food was so tasteless Sunny wondered at times why she even bothered.

  "Are you all right?" Brandon asked when she just sat staring at him.

  "I do not know myself," she admitted softly. "You do not like who I am, and you want me to change. I do not know what /want."

  Brandon's heart turned over. "I love you, Sunny," he told her sincerely, "just the way you are, but you're going to live in England, and even if Darhabar and England were exactly alike, that would mean adjustment. The feet that they're not at all alike is going to make things even more difficult for you.

  "You will not be waited on constantly at your sister's home, nor do I really believe you would care to be. There may be someone to help you with your hair, but you also need to know how to care for it on your own.

  "My pushing you to make your bunk, do your hair, eat with a fork, and put on the proper clothing is not my way of saying I dislike who you are. I love you," Brandon repeated, "and I want your adjustment in going home to be as smooth as possible."

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  Brandon slipped his arm around her, and Sunny let her head fell against his shoulder.

  "Did I tell you about the first time I ever saw you?" Brandon asked, knowing he was the only real thing in her life right now. He wanted her to understand just how English she really was, and to see that she was going home to a family who waited eagerly to see her.

  "You've never told me," Sunny replied, her fece turned with interest.

  "Our homes are dose together, and word was sent to my mother that Katherine, your mother, had safely delivered you," Brandon began. "I was ten years old at the time and thought that babies were rather bothersome creatures, but I was curious too.

  "When mother went, she allowed me to accompany her. You were so tiny," Brandon smiled. "While my mother held you, I put my finger in your hand. You clutched onto it with a surprising grip. I had a new appreciation for babies after that. I couldn't see enough of you. It was awfully fun to watch you grow that first year. I missed you terribly when you went away; we all did."

  Sunny smiled at him, loving the mental pictures he painted. Brandon gave her a little squeeze, kissed her brow, and went back to his desk, leaving Sunny to finish her hair. He did so hoping she felt a little easier about who she was and where she was headed.

  Brandon noticed that Sunny regained more control of her emotions with the passing of each new day. He knew that the family would love her no matter what she was like, but Brandon still wondered if any of them would ever see her eyes pool with tears, or if anyone would see the frightened, vulnerable fece he'd seen when Sunny realized she had been underhandedly sent away by the only father she'd ever known.

  Brandon had a sense that by the time they came into port, these feelings and many more would be well hidden from any and all seeking eyes. He had seen them all and praised God for this feet. They had given him a love and tenderness for this girl that he couldn't have put into words if he had tried.

  "Sometimes I hate him all day, and sometimes I wish I could wake up in my bed in the palace," Sunny said softly one night.

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  "Did it help to reread his letter?" Brandon asked, having seen her doing so just that morning.

  "No,** she told him flatly. "He said I am loved, but then I am sent away." Sunny, who was sitting across the cabin from Brandon, looked into his eyes. "This is not love."

  "I don't know about that," Brandon told her thoughtfully. "When I think of the loving family that awaits you in England, and how hard it must have been to send you away, I think he might love you deeply."

  Not having considered this, Sunny frowned, but a moment later the hardness returned to her eyes. She was not ready to be so understanding. Brandon sighed mentally. If she was not careful, the bitterness would eat her alive.

  Brandon believed thatifanyone had reason to be bitter, it was the family who had been lied to and robbed of her company for so many years. As it was, no one felt that way. They certainly didn't condone the emir's actions, but they praised God for the return of Sunny, and were determined not to let bitterness ruin that praise.

  Sunny, now able to spend time away from Brandon, left the cabin just after breakfast the next morning. As had become her routine in the past week, she headed for the galley. Connie, the ship's cook, was standing over a large pot, and Sunny knew that lunch was on the stove.

  "Good day to you, lass. Did you sleep well?"

  "Yes," Sunny told him with wide-eyed innocence. It was beyond her why people asked such a thing. In her youth, she had yet to experience a poor night's sleep.

  "What are you cooking, Connie?**

  "Bean soup.** The rotund cook raised his ladle so Sunny could see his fere. She smiled at his obvious pride, and they talked about the ingredients for some minutes until Sunny heard Brandon's voice in the companionway,

  "We'll be in port in the morning. I'll be going ashore and can take care of it then."

  Sunny left the galley in a hurry, and Connie, having heard the captain's voice and knowing why she left, smiled after her departure.

  "We are to be in England tomorrow?*' Sunny was out of breath at the prospect.

  "No, Sunny," Brandon explained. "We're docking in Freeport, Sierra Leone, for water and supplies."

  "You will go on land?"

  **Yes, I'll be going ashore, but only briefly. I will not-" Brandon continued swiftly when he saw that Sunny was about to speak, "be taking you with me. I must leave early and will probably return before you're awake."

  Sunny was crushed. Brandon saw the disappointment in her eyes, but knew it was best to leave well-enough alone.

  "You will not pout over this," he told her softly and watched as her expression turned from anger to pride.

  In a way that was all too familiar, her chin came into the air. He turned away to hide his smile, for he knew she hated any reference to her youth.

  Sunny was more disappointed than she believed she had let on, and turned away from Brandon's back to go up on deck. Once at the railing, the wind tugging at her hair and clothing, she made a promise to herself about the next day.

  /may not be allowed off this ship, but I will be here, on the deck., seeing all I can of this Sierra Leone.

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  sunny awoke to an odd sound and lay for a moment, trying to place what was wrong. It took some seconds for her to remember they were docking. She realized then that it was the ship's lack of motion that had awakened her. She flew out of the bed, but just as Brandon had predicted, he was gone. Sunny tore out of her nightgown and dressed as swiftly as she was able. Ignoring the brush because she was headed out into the wind, she reached for the door of her little room and ran across Brandon's cabin. With a smile on her face, she placed her hand on the latch and pulled.

  Sunny found it locked. She stood in stunned silence for a moment and tried the door again. It d
idn't budge. With a determined yank, she made yet another attempt. Frustration rose within her, and she pulled until her hands hurt, but the door remained firmly shut.

  "How could you?" Sunny's voice sounded in the empty room. Hurt feelings quickly gave way to anger. By the time Brandon arrived nearly an hour later, she was in a fury.

  Brandon came aboard ship with a feeling of contentment. He had accomplished all he had set out to do,andfound a close friend of his at home. He had said nothing to Sunny for fear of raising her hopes and then having to dash them, but now that he knew John was home, he planned to take Sunny onshore. They were expected

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  for lunch. It wouldn't be a long visit; theFlying Surprisewould sail with tonight's tide, but it would break up the tedium of the ship and give Sunny contact with a few other believers.

  "Any sounds from my cabin?" Brandon asked Flynn.

  "I've checked a few times-all is quiet."

  "Good. We'll be going ashore hi a few hours, and she'll be well rested. We're going to John and Cheryl's, and I have some jobs for Angus and Billy. Tell them to accompany us."

  "You'd like a carriage?"

  "If Angus can arrange it, yes. I'll be in my cabin."

  Flynn nodded, and Brandon moved toward the companionway. Once at his cabin door, he lifted the lock and used his key. He had regretted such an action, but it had given him peace of mind while off the ship. On opening the door, however, any and all peace of mind was shattered, along with a heavy ceramic mug that hit the wall near his head.

  *Hm? could you?" Thewords were spat in fury, and a hairbrush came through the air.

  "I trusted you!"

  Brandon ducked his way into the door as a book came crashing somewhere above his head.

  "That's enough, Sunny," Brandon spoke firmly, but not loudly enough, since another book was picked up and hurled. Her aim was far off, and Brandon was headed in Sunny's direction when she grabbed something off his desk and raised it high.

  aStop!vBrandon's voice thundered in the small room, and Sunny, so shocked over hearing his raised voice, slowly lowered her hand. "Put mat on the desk." Brandon's voice was softer now, but no less angry.

  Sunny complied, and then backed away when Brandon started toward her. She stopped when she saw that he was headed to the desk. Sunny watched in fascination as he picked up the item she had been ready to throw, and gave it a good going over. His voice was now gentle as he turned to her and explained.

  "This is a sextant; I can't navigate this ship without it. Since we're not out to sea, it wouldn't have been a complete disaster. If you had broken it, I would have been left searching for a replacement, but none that would match the caliber of this one."

  Sunny's eyes were huge in her face over what her anger had caused her to do. She had been warned as a child that her anger was

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  goingtoland her in trouble someday, but other than the emir administering a hard slap across her face when she'd been nine years old, Sunny had yet to regret her wrathful outbursts. She felt ashamed for the first time, and it was not a feeling she enjoyed.

  "Are you going to punish me?** Sunny's calm voice belied the turmoil within.

  Brandon looked at her, regret knifing through him.She's not sorry, just worried about my punishing her.The thought was deeply disturbing to him.

  ulf you mean, am I going to physically punish you, no, I'm not. But I did have plans for us to go ashore, and now Fm not sure if we should.**

  Sunny looked utterly crestfallen. Brandon continued to watch her, wishing that he could know her thoughts. As it was, he received his wish.

  "I have a temper, and I've been in trouble before because of it."

  Brandon nodded. "I'm glad you're aware of that, Sunny, but I don't want you worried about your punishment alone and not sorry over your actions."

  This was clearly a new thought for the fiery brunette. "I don't know what you mean."

  "I mean.. .** Brandon hesitated, not certain how to explain.

  "I am sorry," Sunny filled the breach with an apology.

  "And I thank you for that apology,** Brandon told her, still not certain that Sunny's heart was in the right place, but knowing that for the moment he would have to be satisfied.

  "We'll be leaving here in two hours." Brandon's gaze pinned her to the floor as he took in her appearance, starting with her bare feet and ending with the mass of curls around her head. "In that time you will clean the mess you've made in this cabin, find a dean dress, and brush your hair.Andyou need to wear shoes."

  His eyes then lit with humor as all remorse vanished from her face. Sunny hated to be reminded about her hair and clothes, and in a moment it was as if the earlier incident had never happened.

  "Are the people of Freeport so above me that I must dress to please them?" Her chin was nearly in the air, and her eyes were flashing purple fire.

  "We have been invited to lunch," Brandon told her calmly. "A friend of mine lives here. He and his wife are expecting us at 10:30."

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  "Are they English?" The "princess" was gone, and Sunny was 13 once again. She was also breathless with excitement.

  "John is. Cheryl is hah7French."

  Brandon's frame shook with silent laughter as he watched her run for her room, her hands already tearing at the buttons of her dress.

  * * *

  Billy drove the carriage through the streets of Freeport, and Sunny never drew her face from the window. Brandon spent the short ride talking to the back of her head.

  "How long are we staying?" Sunny asked.

  "We sail with the evening tide."

  "Oh!" Sunny exclaimed as though she hadn't heard him. "What is that building?"

  Brandon couldn't answer because she was blocking his view, but she didn't seem to notice.

  "Are we staying the night?" she asked next, and Brandon decided it was best not to answer. She had been a perfect angel since she had appeared in the middle of his now-clean cabin. Her dress was fresh, there were shoesandstockings on her feet, and her hair was brushed smooth, though hanging loose. Brandon helped her with a few pins, and after a bit of work the effect was darling. He'd pulled the sides back away from her face, which only served to accentuate her eyes and high cheekbones even more.

  They were pulling up in front of John and Cheryl's house when Sunny suddenly turned to Brandon with a worried frown.

  "Will I be all right with your friends?"

  "Of course, but there's no need to worry. I'm not leaving you with them."

  "No, no," Sunny frowned at not making herself understood. "Will I say the right things?"

  "I'm sure you will,** Brandon spoke with complete confidence. "Are you worried about whether or not they will like you?"

  "Yes, and my English."

  Brandon's brows rose on this, until he realized he'd never told her how excellent her command of the English language was. He was about to do so when Angus opened the door and held his hand

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  out for Sunny to alight. Brandon followed, realizing as he did that Sunny's doubts had raised a few of his own. As they moved up the steps of a lovely home, he prayed that all would go well in the next few hours.

  **your english is beautiful."

  Sunny beamed over the compliment and fell just a little more in love with her hostess. Cheryl Cosgrove was petite, dark, vivacious, and seven months pregnant. She was only seven years older than Sunny, and her sister, Judith Brompton, was engaged to marry Brandon's brother, Dexter. Cheryl had taken to Sunny with her hesitant smile and soft speech the moment she walked in. Until that moment Sunny did not realize how much she had missed female companionship.

  The four of them lunched together, and it was a lovely affair with mouth-watering dishes of every sort. Sunny found herself wishing she didn't have to go on to England, where she believed the food to be as bland as that which was served on the ship. She also preferred her hostess' dress to her own, with its puffed sleeves, full bodice, and rounded neckline. The
beautiful forest-green satin fabric contrasted sharply with the heavy brown wool of her own.

  "Cheryl is right, Sunny," John commented now. "Your English is nearly flawless. How is it that after living so many years in Dar-habar, your English is so polished?"

  Sunny's chin rose in a way that was becoming familiar to all in her company. "It was my father's wish that I be well versed in all things English." Her pride for the moment caused her to forget the emir's betrayal.

  "So you've known all along where you were from?" This came from Cheryl.

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  "Since I was five. It was then I noticed the differences between my sisters and me. Indira was given permission to tell me when I asked her, and a few weeks later, my English lessons began. We studied for two hours every day, right up to my tenth birthday."

  "Who taught you?"

  Some of Sunny's confidence deserted her, and she went on in a hushed, troubled voice. "He was an Englishman. Until I came onto Brandon's ship, I thought the man was my Uncle Graham, brother of my dead father. I realize now that this couldn't be."

  John and Cheryl looked to Brandon for some sort of explanation, and he quietly told them Sunny's story of how she was found after the storm and taken to the emir as an infant. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room until Cheryl broke it with a gentle question.

  "You said that you were versed in all things English, Sunny. Please tell us about the rest."

  Sunny took the offered lifeline, effectively pushing from her mind the bearded English face of her so-called uncle.

  "I am familiar with all of your religious beliefs. They are of great interest to me, as I am more accustomed to everyone having the same beliefs. I am also trained in your history. England has warred with many nations. I do not like war. Darhabar is a peaceful country." The pride was back in her voice, and she smiled at her hosts.

  Listening intently, Brandon realized how much Sunny had told about herself in the last minutes. He had wanted to question her at times, but was reluctant to make her feel as though she were being interrogated. He knew that was the last thing she needed from him.