Chapter Text
Lettie looked at Ada in the mirror with an encouraging smile. She had achieved a semblance of calm to her appearance, helping her to tidy her hair, splash some water on her face and had put just the tiniest bit of rouge and a dusting of powder to bring some colour back to her face.
Despite Lettie’s suggestion, Ada had declined a change of outfit, insisting that if she were to be completely honest and transparent with William, that she should look just the same as he was used to – dressed simply but elegantly, without excessive frills and fuss.
“The frothy gowns suit you Lettie, but I’m a woman of almost thirty; I’d look like a schoolgirl playing dress-up if I wore one of your gowns. Thank you, though,” said Ada appreciatively, placing her hand over Lettie’s which rested on her shoulder.
Julia made a noise of approval from where she sat on the bed, flicking through a copy of La Mode Illustree. “Quite right, Ada. If you show up now looking like a fashion plate, he’ll think you’re up to some kind of game.” Her gaze flashed to Leticia’s. “No offence intended.”
With a final glance in the mirror, Ada nodded, smoothing down the skirt of her simple afternoon gown. It was the same one she’d worn before she fell asleep, but the colour suited her; simple blue and white stripes with a lace collar – fittingly enough, in a sailor style. She smiled at the coincidence, although she’d made this dress long before the voyage. She nodded.
“Right, I suppose it’s time I go find him, then.”
Lettie squeezed her shoulder. “Do you want us to walk with you?” Julia placed the magazine down and stood.
Ada shook her head. “No, thank you, really. I should gather my thoughts while I walk, and besides, I don’t want your parents to see you with me, not so soon after your mother was gossiping about me,” she replied.
Lettie nodded understandingly, not at all upset. “All right, but please, let us know what he says, I can’t stand the suspense.” For a moment, she looked like a young girl again as she tipped forward on her toes, hands clasped in front of her as she let out a little squeal of excitement. “I know he’ll understand, he’s a good man.”
Ada headed for the door, with a glance over her shoulder. “Wish me luck.”
After his failure to find Ada in the dining room, William had gone on his watch, for the first time in quite a while he found it difficult to focus. His thoughts kept wandering to Ada, and what could possibly have caused her to spook like that and call off their understanding. She was strong, focused, not caring what society thought of her. Surely it couldn’t be the subtle thread of gossip that had sprung up around their love affair; the attention spans of people aboard ship were usually short and taken up by the next thing a day or two later. They had been a badly kept secret for some time now, and the novelty should have worn off. It had to be something else, but what?
He let out a sigh, his fingers worrying at the folded note still in his jacket pocket. From the other side of the wheelhouse, Captain Thompson glanced over with a look of sympathy.
“All not well in paradise then, eh?” he remarked, noting the unusual slump to William’s usually stoic and confident bearing.
William glanced up at his senior officer, slightly startled. He was usually good at concealing his emotions on duty, hiding them under a professional façade of a cool collectedness and authority. But obviously he hadn’t succeeded tonight.
“Just a… disagreement, sir.” He decided a basic truth without too much detail was the way forward here.
Thomspon raised an eyebrow. “I see. But you two seem to see eye on eye on almost everything. Nothing too serious, I hope? You’ve got the look of a man lost at sea who’s just seen land slip away, lad.”
William swallowed, blinking slowly at the sudden well of emotion in his chest. It did feel like that – like he’d been drowning and sighted a lifeline, only for it to slip from his grasp. He looked back up at his captain.
“She’s… called it off, sir,” he said quietly.
Thompson crossed over to Will and placed a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “I’ve been married a good many years, William, and if there’s something I’ve learned about women – good women, I mean- is that they always have a solid reason for doing what they do. It might not make sense to us men,” he smiled here, “but I can almost guarantee it’s not for a silly reason.”
He pulled his watch from his pocket and glanced at it. “Your watch is over soon, go now and find her. It’ll be all right, you’ll see.” He patted Will’s shoulder and turned away. “I’ll send for Twomey early, don’t worry yourself.
Will nodded, surprised at his captain’s insightfulness and grateful for his compassion. “Thank you, sir. I – I will.”
With a look of thanks, Murdoch turned and left the bridge.
Although she had been on the officer’s promenade before, the bridge area was new territory for Ada. She’d managed to find a steward, who directed her with not a bit of surprise towards the officer’s quarters. It was highly unusual for a woman to be seeking to traverse that part of this ship, but he didn’t get paid enough to question a passenger, and a lady at that. He merely shrugged and pointed the way.
Trying to remember the directions he’d given her, although it was a small ship, in her nervous state Ada found herself forgetting which way he’d said to go. Forging ahead, she rounded a sharp corner of the corridor only to collide directly with someone coming the opposite way, knocking the breath out of her.
Strong hands caught her arms, and she looked up only to find William’s face inches from hers.
“Aid…”
The words she’d planned died on her lips as she took in his face, still so handsome but with an air of sadness and hurt as he considered her. She had planned to be calm and matter of fact, but her stomach had dropped through the floor and been replaced by a herd of butterflies running rampant, her heart in her throat as her nerves jangled at the unplanned reintroduction to his physical presence.
“Will…” she managed. “I…-“
“-was looking for ye,”
They both spoke at the same time, their words jumbling. William glanced at the door to his left, which led out onto the deck. “This way,” he urged, taking her by the elbow and directing her over the lip of the deckhouse and out onto the promenade, only a few steps, before they entered a portholed door which led to the officer’s mess. Thankfully, it was empty. He’d have preferred to speak with her in the privacy of his cabin, but after the gossip that had followed them previously he thought it prudent to at least talk in a room with windows out onto the deck, so no one could say they were really, fully, alone.
He steered her between the small table and over to the upholstered seating against the far wall, and without resisting, she sat with a thud, her face still registering the surprise of having run into him like this.
He pulled one of the few chairs over that wasn’t fixed to the floor, and sat across from her, his knees almost touching hers, his hands resting flat on his thighs. His blue eyes regarded hers, and Ada felt a stab of guilt at the hurt that was plain on his face.
“Why, Ada?” The question was soft, without anger. She almost felt worse then; anger she could deal with, but the fact she’d hurt him was painful. He’d been nothing but gentle and kind to her, when other men had not.
She looked down at her lap, tears springing up and falling with soft plunks onto the fabric of her dress.
After a few breaths to gather her courage, she looked up at him. “It wouldn’t have been honest, Will. I shouldn’t have asked you what I did. It wouldn’t be right; I’m not what you think I am.”
“’Not what I think you are?’” he repeated in surprise. “What are ye then, if not a 29-year-old headmistress from Christchurch?”
She looked away, at nothing in particular. She couldn’t meet his gaze; she wouldn’t. He was a kind man, but surely like all the others of their time he expected certain things from a bride. She twisted her hands in her lap, gathering her courage to speak.
One of William’s hands covered hers, stilling them, his voice gentle. “Ada, look at me. You can talk to me, I’m still your Will. Whatever you have to say, I’ll hear it.”
Gradually, she managed to raise her eyes to meet his. They gazed back at her, such a brilliant blue and steady, and she saw no judgement there, only curiosity. She ploughed ahead.
“It’s only fair you should know. There are things that are… expected of women, as I’m sure you know. And it wouldn’t be right for me to hold you to an understanding while you don’t know the full truth.” She looked away then, finding it difficult to continue, but he reached out and grasped her chin between thumb and forefinger, gently turning her face back to his.
“Aid, lass,” he said softly. “You’re safe with me.”
Deep down she must have known he would understand what she was about to say, but it didn’t make it any easier in her nervous state. She exhaled shakily and laid it out.
“You know I was engaged before,” she began. “Well, shortly before the wedding, before he called it off, I- we- did things,” she trailed off, waiting for William to react, however she saw him absorb what she said, and wait for her to continue. When he didn’t speak, she kept going.
“Things that should normally be reserved between a husband and wife,” she said meaningfully. Ada glanced down at her hands; her feelings conflicted. On the one side, she felt it shouldn’t be wrong if two people loved each other, but on the other… the burden of society’s expectations was there, a constant weight on her mind. By most people’s standards, she was loose. Damaged goods. And she had realised in the intervening years that it hadn’t really been love that caused her to give in; but obeisance, duty.
William gave her hand a squeeze and waited for her to continue. “I wanted to wait, but Robert, well, he… did not.” she said simply. After a moment, she steeled herself and returned his steady gaze, which had flashed with a momentary anger at the thought of her being compelled to do anything she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. “It’s… it’s why I didn’t push you away on deck, as decorum says I should, when we- when we got carried away. Because with you, I wanted to do those things…” Her voice trembled with a whisper at the last few words, and she looked down at her lap, her fingers twisting with the anxiety of making herself so vulnerable to him.
“It wasn’t everything,” she added, looking back up. “But it was enough. I understand if you wish to take back your agreement,” Ada finished with resignation in her voice.
A moment, then two passed, before to her surprise, William leant back a little and let out a shocked laugh.
She stared at him, puzzled, until he spoke. “My lass, why on earth would I throw ye over for doing something that is as old as time? Something that comes naturally when people have strong feelings for each other? You are a woman of twenty-nine, who was a week away from her ain wedding. I should be surprised if ye had not… ‘done things’,” he quoted, his brogue rising, squeezing her hands reassuringly. He glanced away at the window to the deck as a steward passed by, and then back at her, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb.
“Besides, I should be a muckle hypocrite if I expected my bride to come to me having done nothing while having experienced those things for myself. We sailors are not known for being shy, and while I admit it is not my taste to find a woman in every port, there were occasions in my youth when I did hae company landward. How could I have one rule for myself, and another for my wife, afore we even met? What ye have or have not done before we crossed each other’s paths is of nae consequence to me.”
He raised his hand to her face again. “What matters to me is now, not then.” He moved to sit by her on the sofa, the warmth of his body next to hers like a balm. After a moment, he said more softly, “I want those things very much as weel, my lass,” stroking her cheek. “Very much indeed. But I do not want to be the cause of scandal, especially on a ship this size. Goodness knows we’ve already given them enough to blether about, and I should have been more discreet with our whole-” he waved his hand in the air, searching for the word, “Courtship, if you will, although it’s not a very conventional one.”
Ada closed her eyes in relief. He wasn’t upset at her past. He understood. She was almost angry with herself for having doubted him in the first place. She nodded. “I understand, William. I’m sorry… sorry for not trusting you. I should have just told you from the start, but -”
He reached forward and pushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “Shhh, it’s alright, Aid. I well know the difficulty you must have had with this.” His face was stern for a moment. “There are men who would chuck a woman for such a thing, even if they themselves do as much, and worse. There’s no need to fuss about it any mair, I’m not angry with ye.”
She wanted nothing more than to rest her head on his shoulder and relish just being there with him, but they did need to be more careful. Instead, she reached again for his hand, his fingers interlocking with hers and his thumb running over them. He raised their hands and kissed her knuckles. “You won’t be shot of me that easily, lass, I’m yours now.”
After he had walked Ada back to her cabin and returned to his, William found his thoughts wandering back to his early years of sailing and thought to himself what a shame it was that there were such different expectations placed on women versus men. But both could be equally hurtful. He could vividly remember during his apprenticeship, his first voyage away from his father’s command, when their barque had docked in San Francisco and the men joyfully ran ashore with the leave of their captain. He was a lad of barely sixteen.
The older, more experienced apprentices had insisted on a night of fun, dragging him out with them, to one watering hole after another, until at the last one as the evening wore on, the boldest of the young men, a lad with dark hair named Frank, slapped money down on the table and called for one of the good-time girls who was draped over the bar.
“Oi Daisy, we got a green one for ya!” he laughed, pulling William up from the stool upon which he had been focusing on his beer. The edges of the glass were slightly blurry, and William had shaken his head to clear his vision before realising that he was more than a bit tipsy. After being rudely shocked back to reality, he shrugged Frank off, “Aye, leave me be, I just want tae enjoy my pint in peace,” he grumbled as he sat back down.
At that, the other boys – for that’s all they were, despite their year or two more than his – hooted and hollered. “Oooh, young Willie’s gone all shy, he has! Doesn’t want to help these poor girls earn an honest wage!” crowed Stevens, making a crude gesture, as Daisy, a buxom blonde of about nineteen sauntered over to their table and draped an arm around Will’s shoulders. She put a finger on his chin and tipped his face to look at him, a smirk breaking out on her full lips.
“Oh, ‘e’s handsome, at least, if a bit young for me,” she purred. “But he’ll be just the thing for pretty Sarah.” She turned to Frank with a low whisper. “Poor girl’s been crying in her room since she got ‘ere last week and won’t entertain any of ‘em. If she doesn’t hurry up, I’ll have no choice but to turn ‘er out back to her parents… or wherever she came from. Least he’ll be nicer than the old letch who tried it with her last night.” Daisy walked round the table to the rest of the lads, exchanging greetings and a suggestive comment or two to those she’d met before.
Frank clapped a hand onto William’s shoulder. “You heard that, poor girl will be out on the street if you don’t do yer duty.” Shrugging his shoulders, he took a cigarette from his pocket, hanging it from his lips and talking round it, his voice low but sympathetic as he lent in closer. “Look, if yer not into girls I don’t care, just act like ya did ‘er, tell her to rumple her clothes a bit when ya come down again and it’ll be fine. At least she’ll get another week with a roof over her ‘ead.”
William was torn – he didn’t even want to go upstairs to the rooms kept for men coming to port, where young ladies with no other options earnt their living, but the thought of a young girl being turned out on the street for not wanting to lie with men she didn’t even know repulsed him. She had less of a choice than he did, it seemed. Frank’s suggestion was the only way he was going to get out of this without sealing the lass’ fate. He’d go upstairs, wait a decent amount of time, then come back down and act how he’d seen the other boys carry on after they visited working girls.
He drained the rest of his beer and set the glass back down on the table, sliding off the stool and nodding to Daisy. “Show me the way, then,” he said, with more confidence than he felt.
At that, the rest of the boys started cheering and making lewd remarks, slapping him on the back and ruffling his hair. He gritted his teeth and feigned a cocky smile, as though he actually wanted to be going up those stairs.
Daisy led him to the upper level, a hallway stretching out with several rooms on each side, a threadbare rug running the length of it, with a bathroom at the end. Somewhere off to his left, he could hear the rhythmic squeaking of a bed, and a woman moaning through the door. He ducked his head, his cheeks hot, not wanting Daisy to see him blush. He had an idea of what went on in that sort of place, but still, hearing it happen was a lot different to listening to the crude talk of the sailors as they sat at cards and smoked aboard ship.
They reached a room at the end of the hall, and Daisy turned the doorknob, giving him a friendly but firm shove into the room. She addressed a young woman who turned as they entered the room. “This ‘ere’s Mister William, in from England. Give him a friendly San Francisco welcome.” With that, she turned and shut the door behind her.
She must have been about the same age as him, maybe a little older. Her hair was a striking raven black, her face was quite round and her lips pink and pouty like a rosebud. Her eyes were a pretty blue but were red-rimmed from crying. He felt a pang of sympathy for her and gave her a small smile in an attempt to reassure her.
“I’m William, you must be Sarah,” he said kindly. She took a breath and nodded, a very slight smile for him before she assumed the expected persona and gave him a proper, flirtatious look and appraised him from underneath her lashes.
“That’s me,” she crossed toward him and extended a hand to take his, pulling him towards her. “You’ve had a long journey, you must be in need of being taken care of,” she said in a low voice, one hand reaching up to run through his hair, the other toying with the buttons of his coat. “Why don’t we get this jacket off and make you more comfortable?”
Her voice was sultry, but he could see she was trembling slightly. She didn’t seem jaded like the other working girls he’d seen, and he felt sad for her. He knew what they expected him to do here, he'd heard the talk of the boys aboard the ship but aside from a very basic idea gleaned from other boys at school and the basic, dry biological details from books, he had no idea of the finer details of how he should go about doing, well, it. He still hoped he could wait it out then head downstairs without this girl needing to do anything at all with him.
He shrugged out of his jacket, her hands warm through his shirt, brushing over his chest as she helped him to take it off and folded it over the back of the chair, beckoning him to sit down on the bed. He felt a nervous twist in his stomach, knowing that she didn’t want to be here, not really.
“Ye don’t have to do this, y’ken,” he managed, a little conflicted as she knelt to untie his shoes. Seeing a woman looking up at him like that was very strange. Aside from his mother and sisters, he’d never been in such proximity to a girl before, at least not one that wasn’t a childhood friend or schoolmate. The visual of her looking up at him as she spoke did strange things to his insides. He swallowed hard.
Sarah glanced up at him again as she moved to his other shoe, “But I do, or it’s the street for me,” she said, a tremble in her voice, before she regained control and continued breezily, like she did this every day, “Might as well start now. You seem like a nice lad, and you don’t smell bad like some of the other men. And you’re a good forty years younger than the one they brought me last night.” She managed to hide a grimace as she said the last.
Having pulled off his shoes, she moved up to sit beside him on the bed, leaning into him. William felt his neck and ears grow hot as she pressed her body into his side, the softness of her figure foreign yet not unpleasant. She took his hand and brought it to her hip, running it up her body. “I think you’ll be kind to me,” she said, her wide eyes gazing into his. “Let me be kind to you, William.”
His hand strayed upwards a little from where she had placed it, and he could feel her ribs clearly through her chemise. He wondered if the person running this place fed these girls - for they were barely out of their school pinafores- and although she was shapely, it was clear it had been some time since she'd eaten well.
William had insisted on ringing for food, this girl was only a little younger than his sister, and he felt sympathy for her. Was this truly her only option, to entertain somewhat agreeable men to avoid worse on the street?
As they waited for the meal, she continued to ask him questions – where was he from, did he have a girl he liked back home, was this his first time to San Francisco? As she spoke, her hands caressed his neck, and she removed his tie before undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, her warm hands venturing inside, exploring the planes of his body, him trembling slightly under her touch. Although he was only a young man, he was lean yet muscled from working the sails and lines of the ship. Her hands felt nice on his skin, and he let her continue, until a knock on the door interrupted and the food was brought in by another girl who looked between them, quirked an eyebrow at Sarah, and left the room.
Despite her earlier protestations, Sarah dropped any pretence of being disinterested in the food and crossed to the tray on the small table, proceeding to demolish what was brought, causing William to chuckle as he picked at the dishes. “Ye’ve got more of an appetite than most of the sailors aboard ship.”
She glanced over at him cautiously, but was relieved when she saw that he didn’t mind. Once they had finished eating, she returned to the bed where William was now sitting, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I know you said you didn’t want to do anything, but would you lie here with me?” Her eyes were almost pleading, and William supposed that she wasn’t used to men being tender with her. Just being there wouldn’t hurt, and it would pass the time so it would seem like they were actually doing what everyone else thought they were up here doing.
He nodded, and she scooted over on the bed, lying down on her side and making room for him. He laid on his back, one arm slung behind his head, and looked at her. She smiled at him, and William saw in her face not a working girl but just a lass with a good heart. One hand came up to rest on his chest, and she made lazy circles with her fingers, toying with the placket of his unbuttoned shirt.
They stayed like that for a while, talking of home and his travels and other topics, like how she found herself in this place. William decided that he was going to give her some money, at least so she could get a head start on finding a way out of this sort of work. He didn’t have a lot, but he made her take it, despite Sarah’s objections that it was too much.
Appreciative, she leant over and gave him a kiss on the lips, then drew back, her eyes damp. “Thank you, kind William, you don’t know what this means, truly.”
He looked back at her, his gaze on her appreciative eyes travelling down to her soft, full lips. His hands reached for her, and then she was pressing her body down onto his, he pressing into her, and her hands travelling to his belt, then below. His arms came around her, her soft body igniting a fever in him and somehow, he knew exactly what to do.
Later, after he’d left her room, his thoughts in a swirl, the lads downstairs greeted him like a returning hero, slapping him on the back and ruffling his hair, exclaiming he was a man now. He gave a half-hearted smile and downed another beer. Although he’d liked Sarah, and what they’d done had undoubtedly felt good to his body, for some time afterwards he couldn't help shake the feeling that he'd shared a secret that he shouldn't have just yet.