Omine Secundo

Ships In the Night

Author's Note:

I had fun writing this. I did a little research to see what shipboard life was like at this time and on this route. I found a rather interesting little diary written by a WSL sailor about his voyage from Sydney to Liverpool aboard the very same ship, the Runic.

He's acknowledged in the story by having a character named for him.

Hope you enjoy this chapter -it's rather fluffy!

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Her hands gripped the cool railing of the ship, as she found a quiet corner of the promenade to lick her wounds. Ada knew it was stupid to be upset – after all, Talbot was a buffoon and his insults weren't anything she hadn't heard before, but she still felt hurt by them. It hadn't helped that Julia had brought up her failed engagement earlier – she hadn't thought about Robert in a long time- at least not in a way that hurt like it used to.

The feeling of being compared to another woman and being found wanting – again- came unbidden and she felt hot tears spring up. She quickly ran the back of her hand across her eyes in annoyance, hating that she was letting that idiot get to her. So much for enjoying the voyage – if this was what things were going to be like, it might be better to eat in her cabin and avoid the less-than-pleasant company. Ada let out a heavy sigh, leaning her weight onto the railing and watching the sea swirling and foaming at the waterline, dimly illuminated by the interior lights and portholes of the ship.

There was a movement at the edge of her vision, and a hand appeared in front of her, holding a folded blue handkerchief out. Ada's gaze moved slowly from it to the deep navy-blue sleeve, ringed in a gold braided stripe, up to the twin rows of shiny brass buttons on the coat, and finally she turned her body a little to look up at the face of the man standing next to her. William Murdoch.

He didn't say a word, he just pressed the square into her hand and turned to lean on the railing next to her, gazing out to the sea and stars on the horizon, a gentle aroma of woody aftershave and tobacco hanging about him like a cloud. He smelled just as he did in the boarding vestibule, and she found it oddly comforting.

Ada managed a quiet, "Thank you," as she took the handkerchief and set to dabbing at her eyes, hoping she didn't look as disheveled as she felt on the inside. Still, he didn't speak, but the silence was welcome; not awkward, and just his presence was starting to make her feel better already.

After a few steadying breaths, she felt able to face him and chanced a look at the man standing next to her. He was tall, but not overly so – a nice height, she thought. He had a long, straight nose, high cheekbones, and a strong chin – quite a classical profile that reminded her a little of Roman statues.

Finally, she ventured to speak. "I'm sorry for leaving so rudely, but I needed some air," she began. At that, William turned his head to look down at her, an earnest expression on his face.

"Miss Banks do not ever be sorry for standing up for yourself. He didnae deserve to be in your company after his remarks," said William, his voice soft yet with an edge to it. "I'm only sorry I didn't hear him say it myself. I got it out of the steward who was serving the wine, after I saw you leave so hastily."

Ada pressed her lips together, letting out a breath slowly through her nose. She would never usually say this to someone she had just met, but for some reason she didn't feel that reserve now. "I'm only sorry I didn't empty my glass over his head." Her eyes slowly rose to meet William's, and as he took in her tear-stained face, a defiant sparkle in her eyes, he let out a chuckle.

"Now, that would be braw indeed, I ne'er knew one who deserved it more." His voice was tinged with amusement, and she enjoyed the sound of it.

Ada began to laugh too, the thought of Talbot wearing the fine merlot and William's laugh together suddenly too hilarious to bear, and she let out a guffaw that made her sides hurt, she raised a hand to her chest and shook her head. In front of any other relative stranger, she'd have been mortified, but it felt as though they were now partners in a crime, and in on the secret together.