Free The Dreamer by May Nicole Abbey

the buckle over in my hand and looked on the back. “Oh, darn. It’s empty,” I said.
    Suddenly it was ripped from my hands and tossed to the floor where it clinked on the hard wood in protest.
    “Enough. I demand you forget this madness. Swear never to bring it up again, not with me, not with anybody. We are going ashore, and you are going to stay there. Forever. If I have to bind and gag you to ensure it, I will.”
    I smiled, exhilarated and revived, feeling more affection for him than ever before. “I’m so happy!” In my exuberance, I flung my arms around him. “And I know you well enough to see that your ostensible anger is only unconscious concern for my safety, Captain, and I think it’s sweet.”
    I drew away and looked up at him, my hands gripping his upper arms. I continued gently, apologetically, “But you will change your mind. You will be convinced. No one can stop this. Not even you, O Captain my Captain, Mallory Tucker.”
    I twirled in a circle before falling onto the bed, my arms outstretched, my eyes on the ceiling, a smile on my face.
    There was a soft knock at the door, and I turned to see Finley enter. In his subdued, unassuming way, he asked the captain for his orders, thanked him, and quietly left.
    But something on his face made me wonder if he perhaps overheard some of our conversation, in the way he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and at the captain not at all. I chided myself for being suspicious. And surely it wouldn’t even matter if he had overheard us. But I couldn’t help an odd shiver run down my spine.

Chapter Seven

    Notes: First contact with aristocracy: a Duke Charles Dubois. Would make interesting case study. Manner and dress exceedingly pleasing. Cursory study reveals subject’s affable yet complex personality inordinately engaging to researcher. Witness similar reaction in general population.
    Captain only exception. Disputes hypothesis. Explanation not forthcoming.
    ** Researcher experienced inordinate pleasure in title and hierarchy despite democratic upbringing. Intriguing. Customs and atmosphere affecting despite efforts at indifference: the standard protocol for researcher/subject relationship.
     
     
    I leaned over the bow of the ship, watching the land slowly approach as we bobbed up and down on the waves. It seemed we were going tremendously fast all of a sudden with something like the shore as a marker.
    England.
    I turned to my notes that I held in my grip, and struggled against the wind as it attempted to take them from me. As I scribbled on the paper, my hair repeatedly blew into my face, blocking my vision, and I had to continually brush it away.
    “I shall learn to fashion my hair according to the mode of the day, Captain. It will not do for me to …,” I looked up and found that he had moved down the deck, and was speaking to Finley. I went to him, notes and all, writing along the way.
    I stood behind him, finishing a sentence, and when he turned, he bumped into me.
    He cursed, then quickly asked if I was hurt.
    “You always ask that,” I said complacently, “and I always say ‘no.’”
    “If I’m always trampling you, it’s because you are always underfoot.”
    I looked up, frowning. “You told me to stay close, didn’t you? I’m only obeying orders.”
    “I am incredibly busy and simply don’t have time for your nonsense today.” He turned to leave.
    “ Nonsense? ” I followed after him. “What is your problem? You’ve been snapping my head off since breakfast.”
    He exhaled a long breath and shook his head. “I apologize.”
    “Captain, I sense anxiety. Is there a reason for this?”
    “I’m not anxious,” he told me, but he still avoided my gaze.
    “Of course you are. Look at you, you’re in knots. What is causing so much apprehension? It started when ….” I looked around and saw his eyes on the distant shore. “It started when land came into view.” My eyes narrowed when he swung on me. “It is the