Sara’s smile was a brilliant thing, trained by endless, unwanted social engagements.
‘Of course. I’m looking forward to it,’ she lied.
‘Excellent.’ Raising her hand, he kissed it politely, then took himself into the light.
Sara rapped on the door to cabin seven. Behind the wood, she could hear her friend’s laughter and the squeals of delight coming from her two sons. The sound was like a breath of wind carving through a pestilent fog, her mood lifting immediately.
Footsteps approached from within, a young boy opening the door carefully, his face brightening when he realised who it was.
‘Sara!’ He threw his spindly arms around her.
Creesjie Jens was rolling around on the floor with her other son, oblivious to her silk nightgown. Both boys were in their undergarments, their skin clammy and hair wet, sopping clothing discarded on the floor. Evidently some mishap had befallen them on the crossing, which didn’t surprise Sara at all.
Marcus and Osbert were mishap bloodhounds. Marcus was ten, older than his brother by two years, though not nearly so quick-witted. It was Marcus who was clinging to Sara, forcing her to shuffle into the cabin.
‘You’ve raised a barnacle,’ she said to Creesjie, stroking the boy’s hair affectionately.
Creesjie pushed Osbert away from her face, examining them from the floor. Her hair formed a messy blonde halo on the wood, and her deep blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her face soft and round, her pale cheeks blushed with exertion. She was the most beautiful woman Sara had ever seen. It was the only thing she and her husband agreed upon.
‘Hello, Lia,’ said Creesjie to the dark-haired girl, as she trailed her mother into the cabin. ‘Are you keeping Sara out of trouble?’
‘I’m trying, but she seems terribly fond of it.’
Creesjie tutted at Marcus, who was still pressed to Sara’s skirt. ‘Leave her be. You’ll soak her through.’
‘We went over a wave,’ explained Marcus, ignoring his mother’s instructions as usual. ‘And then –’
‘The boys stood up to greet the next one,’ supplied Creesjie, sighing at the memory. ‘They nearly tumbled over the edge of the boat. Thankfully, Vos caught hold of them.’
Sara raised an eyebrow at the mention of her husband’s chamberlain. ‘You travelled with Vos?’
‘More like he travelled with us,’ said Creesjie, rolling her eyes.
‘He got very upset,’ supplied Osbert, who was still lying on his mother, his naked belly rising and falling. ‘But the wave didn’t hurt, really.’
‘It hurt a bit,’ corrected Marcus.
‘A little bit,’ re-corrected Osbert.
Sara knelt down, passing her gaze between their earnest faces.
Watery blue eyes, guileless and merry, fixed upon her. They were so alike. Sandy hair and red cheeks, their ears waving to the world from either side of their head. Marcus was taller and Osbert broader, but otherwise there was little to separate them. Creesjie said they took after their father, her second husband, Pieter.
He’d been murdered four years ago, something Creesjie didn’t like to talk about. From the stumbled-upon stories, Sara knew that he’d been loved dearly and mourned fiercely.
‘Boys, I need to speak with your mama,’ said Sara. ‘Would you go with Lia? She wants to show you her cabin, don’t you, Lia?’
Irritation wrinkled Lia’s brow. She hated being treated like a child, but her fondness for the boys was enough to drag a smile out of her.
‘More than anything.’ She became deadly serious. ‘I think there’s a shark in there.’
‘No, there isn’t,’ protested the boys in unison. ‘There are no sharks on land.’
Lia feigned bafflement. ‘That’s what they told me. Shall we find out?’
The boys agreed readily enough, dashing out in their undergarments.
Sara closed the door as Creesjie got to her feet, dusting her nightgown off. ‘Do you think they’d let me wear this around the ship? I had to put it on after the wave soaked –’
‘You need to get off the Saardam,’ interrupted Sara, tossing her ruff on to the bunk.
‘It usually takes at least a week before people start asking me to leave places,’ said Creesjie, frowning at a dirty spot on her sleeve.
‘The ship has been threatened.’
‘By a madman on the docks,’ replied Creesjie sceptically, walking over to a rack on the wall that held four clay jugs. ‘Wine?’
‘There isn’t time, Creesjie,’ said Sara, exasperated. ‘You need to get off the ship before we set sail.’
‘Why are you giving the ravings of a madman any credence?’ replied her friend, filling two cups and handing one to Sara.
‘Because Samuel Pipps does,’ said Sara.
The cup stopped halfway to Creesjie’s lips, her face showing interest for the first time. ‘Pipps is onboard?’ she asked.
‘In manacles.’
‘Do you think he’ll attend dinner?’
‘He’s in manacles,’ stressed Sara.
‘He’ll still be better dressed than most of the other guests,’ said Creesjie, thoughtfully. ‘Do you think I can visit him? They say he’s exceptionally handsome.’
‘When I saw him, he looked like he’d climbed out of a midden.’
Creesjie made a disgusted face. ‘Perhaps they’ll clean him up.’
‘He’s in manacles,’ repeated Sara slowly, putting down her untouched cup. ‘Will you consider departing?’
‘What does Jan say?’
‘He doesn’t believe me.’
‘Then why is he letting me go?’
‘He isn’t,’ admitted Sara. ‘I … wasn’t going to tell him.’
‘Sara!’
‘This ship is in danger,’ exclaimed Sara, throwing her hands in the air and smacking them into the beamed ceiling. ‘For your sake and the boys’, please go back to Batavia.’ She tried to shake the sting from her pained fingers. ‘There’ll be another voyage in four months. You’ll be home in plenty of time for your marriage.’
‘Time isn’t the problem,’ argued Creesjie. ‘Jan wanted me on this ship. He bought my berth and had my ticket delivered by the household guard. I can’t depart without his blessing.’
‘Then talk to him,’ she pleaded. ‘Ask for it.’
‘If he won’t listen to you, why would he listen to me?’
‘You’re his mistress,’ said Sara. ‘He favours you.’
‘Only in the bedroom,’ replied Creesjie, draining her wine and starting on Sara’s. ‘It’s the curse of powerful men to heed only their own voices.’
‘Please! At least try!’
‘No, Sara,’ she said softly, dousing Sara’s passion with calm. ‘And not because of Jan. If there’s danger on this ship, do you truly think I’d abandon you to it?’
‘Creesjie –’
‘Don’t argue with me, two husbands and a court full of lovers has taught me stubbornness. Besides, if there’s a threat to the Saardam, surely our duty is to stop it. Have you told the captain?’