Two Ships Passing

Chapter 1It had been two years since she’d seen Henry. He’d remained in London, her place of birth, while she’d been attending medical school in New York. It was still a fairly new city in the scheme of things, she chuckled to herself. “New city,” New York. When compared to her London, England, New York was practically an infant in 1800s North America, but it had character and, after a time, she had come to love it, even think of it as a home of sorts. The air smelled of salt and fried fish, and the sounds around her included dock workers and their rough language, the subtle slap of waves against the moorings of the dock and the clip clop of horses’ hooves adding to the rhythm of the day. Doctor Helena Jane Kelly sat in a small cafe waiting for the small boy—Joe was his name—who said he could aid in sorting her passage across the Atlantic. The smartly dressed lad with the wayward shock of blond hair and striking brown eyes had noticed her wandering the docks, a frown on her face, and assured her he could guarantee her journey back to London. If, of course, he could find his captain. During her time at the New York School of Medicine, Helena was the only female student studying to become a physician. She had, much to the astonishment of mostly her male classmates, and to a slightly lesser degree her instructors, risen to the top of her class in her two years of studies. She had always been headstrong and it was no different when it came to her schooling. Her mother had been horrified that Helena, a young British woman of society, should choose to cross the ocean of all places to attend some “ghastly” medical school, but for Helena it had to be New York. She felt it had the best opportunity for her as a female physician and it gave her some freedom and independence in the time leading up to her impending marriage. At five-foot-seven, Helena was tall for a woman of the time. Her skin was like porcelain, owing to the fact she was always careful to cover up in the sun. She was, upon sight, a true Victorian lady as her mother, bless her dearly departed soul, was before her. Her hair was black as night, falling halfway down her back in silky tresses, but at the moment it was properly pulled back in the style befitting an engaged gentlewoman of society. Her eyes, like her hair, appeared black, like a leopardess. When she laughed or when the sun hit them just right, they were in fact a deep brown. A straight nose, and lips, a hint on the thin side, completed the package. Many a young man had fallen for young Helena Kelly, but it was Henry, with his boyish enthusiasm, athletic good looks, and witty jokes who captured her heart. Though, if she was really admitting it to herself, Henry had actually captured her heart with a few not so gentle nudges from her mother. While his letters had been impassioned and hopeful of their bright future together, Helena sometimes wondered if she was the same girl who’d accepted his proposal two years ago. She sighed, thinking of her mother. Saorise O’Sullivan Kelly was a powerful woman, red-headed and fiery but the complete picture of propriety. She had caught the eye of the black-haired, black bearded Edmund Kelly the Third, a young British Earl. Edmund died young, gored by a stag in a hunting accident, leaving just Saorise and Helena in a sprawling estate home in Belgravia. Helena remembered little of him, just an easy grin and the smell of pipe smoke. Despite that, she felt out of her parents, she was definitely her father’s daughter. Saorise ran her house and staff with strict efficiency, using those same skills to raise her daughter to be the pinnacle of a society lady. When a young Helena was caught bare-footed, hair flowing free, running through the grass of the estate, it was Saorise herself who beat her daughter across the bottom with a twig she’d had the driver cut from a nearby willow tree. Helena never took to the outdoors again unless properly dressed, but whenever she passed a window she would gaze upon the expanse of the estate and dream of running along, feeling the dewy grass once again upon her bare feet. Henry was the answer to that sense of adventure and independence she craved, a sense of security now that her mother had passed. Helena had been left a decent sum of money but because of the times, living on one’s own when one was a woman was frowned upon, even for a lady of genteel society. Living in the boarding house in New York had changed her. She had a taste of the freedom of being alone and in charge of her own future and she sometimes found herself wondering if there was more in store for her than just a career, marriage, and children. Still, she couldn’t wait to share her hopes and dreams with her husband to be and knew, if they tried hard enough, they could tackle the world together, and as equals. Daydreaming, she jumped slightly at the tug on her sleeve. The young boy had returned and was pointing to the docks. “I found the captain, miss! Over there.” Helena followed the line of the young boy’s scrawny arm to a gathering of men at the docks. The captain in question was wearing a coat of a deep forest green over tan breeches and shining black leather boots. He was a slight man, not much taller than herself, but stood with a proud carriage. His hat was tipped low over his face though Helena noticed one eye was covered in a neat black patch. His moustache was thin, the way of such gentlemen at the time and his lips were very full, particularly for a man. His hair was light brown, done up in a tight queue down his back, longer than was the fashion for men these days but neatly bound with a ribbon matching his jacket. At the moment he was directing the men loading cargo up the gangplank of a rather small but beautifully crafted ship dubbed Persephone. The blond-haired boy tugged on her sleeve again. “You wait right here, miss, just wanted to make sure you stayed put. I’ll go talk to him. I know it’ll be no problem for you to tag along!” He bounded away, skidding to a halt in front of the man with the eye patch. Helena prayed the captain would acquiesce and she’d be able to get back home to Henry and start her life as a physician. She had been searching for passage for days, but ships were either full, unwilling to travel at this point in the fall as winter squalls would be soon upon them, or were against accepting female passengers altogether. “‘Tis bad luck having a female aboard, madam,” one portly captain had preached at her. She watched astutely as the boy motioned at her before exchanging words with the captain. The man in question turned in her direction, the hat brim still obscuring the majority of his face, giving her only the slightest of glances. She caught his one eye, and for a split second her breath caught at the incredible shade of green scrutinizing her. The man turned back to the boy and scratched his chin, apparently pondering. He turned to her again, and she sat straighter staring directly back. The man’s green eye was piercing but not cold. She gave a little wave after which he bobbed his head politely touching his hand to his hat brim in salute. She jingled the change purse tied at her waist, hoping the cost of passage wouldn’t be too dear. She had plenty of money, but it was tied up in banks in London awaiting her signature. She had been living on what allowance she had until then. Her heart dipped when the captain shook his head emphatically and turned away. The boy, bless his soul, tugged on his captain’s sleeve and continued, she hoped, pleading her case. After minutes of back and forth between the two, the captain looked at her again. He really did have captivating eyes. Well—eye. As Helena found herself straining to see it more clearly she nearly fell out of her chair in the process. Cheeks aflame, she was in the midst of smoothing her skirt when the boy bounded back to her a huge grin plastered on his face. “Captain said you can sail out with us, miss! Just like I said!” Helena felt a surge of hope. “Are you sure? He did seem a bit hesitant.” The boy kicked at the dirt, eyes downcast, before showing her that big grin once again. “He was at first, miss, but I told him you were a doctor and a lady, an honest one at that. The captain only takes on the most trustworthy crew and expects no different from his passengers. Not that we have many. You are honest, miss, right?” “Of course I am,” Helena said a little more sharply than intended. The boy looked at her hesitantly. “Yes?” she inquired stiffly. Joe shuffled his feet nervously and tugged on a hair that had fallen into his eyes. “The captain says doctors have this thing where they don’t say anything about their patients’ business?” “Why, yes, doctor patient privilege, it’s called.” The boy seemed to be in perfectly good health but one never knew. “Is there something amiss with you, young man?” “No, no I’m right as rain. But you’re saying, if the captain was your patient, you couldn’t tell anybody about him unless he said?” Helena was beginning to feel uneasy, passage back to London or no. “What’s going on here, young man?” The boy kicked at the dirt some more. “Nothing, miss, just making sure what the captain said is true and that you’re an honest lady, that’s all.” Helena gave a frustrated sigh and glanced at where the captain had been standing. The man in the trim green jacket with the piercing green eye was gone. “If your captain was my patient, as his physician, of course, I would keep his health to myself on my honor as a medical professional.” The boy clapped his hands with delight. “Great! I’ll meet you at this very spot tomorrow to board the ship. We leave at seven bells.” He touched a hand to his forehead in a chivalrous gesture and was gone.