Regency Christmas Gifts Read Online Free

lieutenant—a rating little higher than that of an
earthworm—and suspected there was no money for her to return
north.
    He discovered she was also a practical woman.
“We are taking up entirely too much of your time, Mr. Jenkins.” She
stopped then, and he could tell she had a question. From the way
she shook her head first, as though trying to stop herself, he
found himself diverted for the first time in months.
    “ It can’t be any more rude than my
question, Mrs. Poole,” he broke in, encouraging her. “Can
it?”
    “ Well, no,” she agreed, then blushed
again. “But your question wasn’t rude. Beth and I … we were
wondering … what does S.M. stand for? It’s here on the return
address.” She pointed to the little scrap. “And you just said you
were … were there at Corunna.”
    “ S.M. Did I write that?” he asked.
“Old habits die hard. Mrs. Poole and Beth, it stands for Sailing
Master, nothing more. I’m retired now, but I evidently have to
remind myself.”
    She gave him a sympathetic look, as if his face
had betrayed him, or if she simply understood that he did not want
to be retired.
    “ You miss the ocean,” she said and
it was a statement.
    “ Beyond everything.”
    They were both silent, missing people and
places, apparently. Thank the Almighty that his sister had some
social skills, at least—those skills he had never learned because
he was always at sea.
    “ Tom, you try me,” Suzie said, then
directed her attention to the widow. “Mrs. Poole, I am his older
sister and I can talk to him like that.”
    Both women laughed, which relieved Thomas,
grateful his clumsy reminder of a difficult time had not chased
away Mrs. Poole’s sense of humor.
    “ Seriously, my dear, do have a
macaroon or two, before Beth and I devour them all. And would you
like tea?”
    She would, and took a macaroon while Susan
poured and Beth asked, “Mr. Jenkins, what does a sailing master
do?”
    “ Most nearly everything,” he told
her, then sat back and noted her skepticism. This was not a child
easily bamboozled. “It’s true. Come here.”
    With no hesitation, she sat beside him, her
mother moving over a little. Thomas glanced at Mrs. Poole, pleased
to see her savoring her macaroon. A slight nod of his head to Suzie
made his sister slide the plate of macaroons closer to the
widow.
    “ I was the frigate’s senior warrant
officer, which means I had a specialty. My job involved everything
related to a ship’s trim and sailing.”
    “ Trim?”
    “ How it sits in the water and
sails,” he said. “I was the one, my mate and I, who decided where
every keg, box, and ballast must be placed in the hold. Tedious
work, but everything must balance. Do you follow me?”
    “ Oh, yes,” the child replied with
admirable aplomb. “Mama tells me I am quite bright.”
    Thomas threw back his head and laughed. “And
none too shy about it, either, eh?”
    A glance at Beth’s mother told him she was
enjoying the conversation hugely. “Perhaps I have read my daughter
that chapter in St. Matthew too many times about the inadvisability
of hiding’s one candle under a bushel,” she joked, which made him
laugh some more.
    “ If it didn’t balance, your ship
might sink in a storm,” Beth said, with some dignity.
    “ Aye to that, Miss Poole,” he said.
“For the sake of simplification, I also set the navigational
course, made sure the sails were also in proper trim, and the
rigging true. I taught young boys not terribly older than you.
You … you are ….”
    “…  seven.”
    “ Five years older than you, how to
navigate. Many of them hated it, but—”
    “ I would never hate it,” she
interrupted, her eyes intense. “Mama, he probably knows more
about … about … planes and angles ….”
    “ Geometry,” he filled in, fascinated
by this little girl.
    “…  than the vicar knows,” she
finished. “I go to a church school that the vicar runs.” She opened
her mouth, glanced at her