“Please, sir. He’s eleven and has hair as red as mine.” I drew back my cloak to show him, despite the assault of the wind. The gust whipped at the water, and a small spray of seawater hit my face. “Have you seen him?”
The man gave a terse shake of his head. “Nay, but he might have been by when another man was on shift. If you come back tomorrow morning—”
“But I must find him before his ship departs. Tomorrow could be too late!” My voice shook with desperation. I’d already spent the last day and a half searching the entire east and north dockyards.
His voice rumbled from underneath his wrappings. “No ships will be leaving in weather like this, I can promise you that.”
I glanced up the pier, my options thinning with each minute. A sinking despair filled me. What was I to do, alone and without help? The task seemed utterly impossible.
The man’s brows lifted, his mouth curved in pity, and he looked almost kind. “You might try dock three right over that way. I know several of the ships were looking for crewmen, though I don’t know if they were specifically in need of a cabinboy. But miss, you shouldn’t be out in this weather. This is no place for a woman.”
I nodded heavily. If only he knew how many times I’d heard those same words over the last two days. “Thank you for the help, sir.” I turned away, pinching my eyes shut.
The sting of cold water again hit my face, and I turned away, but the assault didn’t stop. This time it wasn’t seawater, but rain. And with these kinds of temperatures, snow couldn’t be far behind. I pulled my cloak tighter over my head, but it was useless; I was soaked within a matter of seconds. The roar of wind and the loud splash of water hitting wood created a cacophony of noise.
I worked my way toward dock three. The whine of the wind obliter-ated all other sound. There were five ships docked there, each of them tremulously rocking in the waves. The dock itself was abandoned. Earlier the docks had been full of men, carts pulling cargo here and there, ropemakers, unemployed sailors. Now it was empty, save for the thrashing water that edged up over the dock.
But surely there was someone aboard the ship whom I could talk to. I walked up the gangway of the first ship, a smaller vessel. “Hello?” I shouted. I reached the deck and peered out of my cloak. Not a soul in sight. The rain turned to sleet, slicing across my uncovered skin like a thousand pricks from an embroidery needle. Just one more, I told myself. One more ship, and then I would turn back.
Once I reached the dock again, I pressed forward, my steps slow but steady. I gritted my teeth to keep them from chattering. The next ship was much larger and, from the look of it, quite new. Perhaps it was a new vessel in need of an entire crew. Hope was a strange thing. Even after two days on the docks, my search fruitless, I hoped this ship might be the one.
One lone sailor lashed down the last of the ropes.
“Excuse me, sir!” I shouted.
He did not look up.
I yelled again.
He glanced around before catching sight of me. He took large sure strides over to where I stood, halfway up the gangway. “Miss?” he shouted.
“I’m looking for a lad of eleven. Harry Graham. Red hair.” The cold made me brief.
He shook his head. “We’ve not taken on anyone new.”
I nodded as silent tears began to mix with the sleet on my cheeks. “Thank you.” My words were lost in the wind. I turned back, my shoulders slumping. The only time I could ever remember feeling so defeated was when we’d first gone to Lymington Park. Mother had begun to recede, and I’d begun to bow under the weight of her disappearance. I promised myself then I’d take care of Harry, no matter what. And I’d failed.
I staggered down the gangway and had to let go of my cloak in order to keep hold of the railing in the squall. The wind lashed against me, the cold so intense it burned every bit of my exposed skin. Once at the bottom I pulled my cloak tight around me again. The material was sopping wet, heavy as chains.
Three last ships were docked down the quay. A wave splashed across the dock, obliterating my path. I turned to make my way back to Mrs. Morton’s home, my heart as cold as the icy seawater. My fingers ached, frozen in place where they cinched my cloak tight around my neck. It was difficult to see, even when I raised my head against the wind. It had grown almost dark all at once, and now, all alone, a sense of foreboding filled me. But the area had emptied in the last few minutes, with not a soul in sight. No one was so foolish to be caught out in such a storm.
Each step took the greatest effort, but I made steady progress, heading toward the warehouses that were situated just off the dockyard. I could hardly see through the curtain of sleet, but I dared not take my eyes off my boots, for fear of a misstep.
“And there she is. Yer not lookin’ so fine now, are ya, lass?”
Fear snaked up my spine. The man with crooked teeth stood just in front of me, his legs set wide.
“Excuse me, sir.” I infused my voice with every ounce of false confidence I possessed, though my entire being shook. And not from the cold. “My cousin is waiting for me right over there; you must excuse me.” I prayed he would not see through my lie, but he didn’t even glance
