Isabelle
Thomas could not get Isabelle out of his thoughts. He quickly set to task, speaking to servants and inquiring who owned the manor he visited that night.
Lord John Harold Reynolds was well past marrying age and never was a suitor. He inherited his father’s trade company at a young age. Pirates raided one of the transport ships, his father happened to be on board at the time. His mother did the ‘Widows Walk’ after she received the news. The moon was waning, he watched her silhouette. It was both the most beautiful and horrific thing he had ever witnessed. It was why he would not marry.
Not marrying, or pursuing a mate, freed up much time and energy. He was free to focus on the business, no one to bide for his time or attention. No one to complain, or wither and die from neglect. He had all the time in the world to travel to far away places and secure trade routes and contracts. He attributed much of his success to it.
Then one day he receives word his sister has passed, leaving a young girl with no means for survival. Perhaps if she got married and birthed an heir all his work would not be in vain. Also he would not have to deal with the matters of the heart that so frightened and concerned him. However as the girl grew in age the reports back to him were not hopeful. The girl was average in her studies, plain in her looks, and poor to middling in her arts. He had resided that he would make sure his spinster niece was well cared for until her last day. After she turned sixteen with nary a suitor, he had very little thought of her. By the time she was nineteen, still with no prospects, he had almost forgotten she existed at all.
Thomas signed up as a sailor on a trade ship belonging to the Reynolds Trading Company. He worked his way to India, where the rumors of Lord Reynolds landed. Til finally he was working on the very ship Lord Reynolds was on. The journey was from India to the horn of Africa, though it would not be a straight trip. They were set to travel across the coast lines.
Thomas made sure he was seen by Lord Reynolds at every opportunity, and he made sure he was seen doing something very useful. He put his keen eye to work and spotted pirates at a far enough distance to be avoided. He made sure the rigging was secured before a storm. And when a pocket watch went missing, Thomas made sure the thieving pirate who took it personally confessed. (without laying a hand on him)
It was a long night, like the night before, and the night before that. The sea was calm every day and the stretch between ports was long. Every man onboard was filled with a somber sober, and a sort of melancholy was being passed between the seafarers like an infectious plague.
Lord Reynolds was liberal with spirits in his quarters, as he tended to on long nights far between ports. He took a stroll on the deck to look out at the stars in the vast dark of the sky.
Thomas stood as deck watch and silently greeted Reynolds as he walked by.
Reynolds turned and acknowledged him, “They call you Ashtan, correct?”
“Yes, My Lord.” avoided eye contact, as a soldier would.
“You may simply call me Sir, too many ruffians aboard this ship to afford titles.” Reynolds looked out at the calm sea. “It puts one ill at ease to know such a thing. How is it you come to this knowledge?”
“I like to know who I work for, Sir.” Thomas remained in a rigid stance.
Reynolds looked Thomas up and down studying every crevice of his face and detail of his clothing. He had a prominent scar, but that was not uncommon for those who face down pirates. “What else do you know, Ashtan?”
“You are not married, you own several fleets, and you are looking to make a fortune in the spices you may acquire in Africa. Sir.” Thomas glanced at Reynolds.
“No.” Reynolds paused and glanced out at the sea, “Not married.” He glanced at Thomas, “Would you care for a glass?” Reynolds motioned back to his cabin.