The Captain’s Daughter

Preface.

This is a story about my life. The luxurious life I had, considering it was on a ship, with about 300 men on it. Me being the only female. I didn’t even know half the men, only politely replied when one of them greeted me, being careful not to use their name.

My father was the ship’s captain, which was the only excuse I had to be on the ship. Other than my mother’s death. My father spent a month in England, to show respect for my mother, whom he loved beyond human expectation. Now, I was all he had left.

After attending my mother’s funeral and packing my things, my father and I left on his ship. At the time, I did not know what a dangerous, yet beautiful world the sea could be. But that I found out during my life on my father’s ship.

With this, I leave you to read the pages of my life,

Elizabeth Grace Summerson.

One

My daddy was one of those people who never cried, no matter how bad things got. At least, that’s what I thought, before my mother’s funeral. That’s when I realized that something in that man could be broken. Jacob Lyons was a tall, strong man, with shoulder length, dirty-blonde hair he kept up in a neat horse tail. My mother, Grace Lyons, was a beautiful lady, with flowing brown hair and emerald green eyes, both of which I was lucky to inherit.

When momma died of scarlet fever, daddy was quick to come to my rescue. At that time, I needed him most. I was fifteen, and next year, I was probably going to be married off to some rich gentleman I barely knew. That’s when daddy took me on his ship, after paying his respects to my momma.

The ship was grand, I heard my momma say thousands of times. Now, I’d get to see it for myself. Daddy, myself, and the ship’s doctor, Georges Peters, all made our way to the dock, in a roomy carriage. All my things were packed, seven cases in all. Daddy wondered why I needed so many things, only to hear the reply, “I’m a lady, daddy, I need all of this.”

There was a slight drizzle outside, and it seemed as though the whole of England has been muted out with the fog. Daddy noticed me staring out the window and leaned over to cover my hand with his. “What’s wrong, little girl?” he asked softly, as the doctor dozed off in the corner. “Nothing, daddy.” I lied.

“I know my daughter, and something’s bothering you, Elizabeth.” He knew me too well, for a father that’s been away for months and years at a time.

Daddy gave me a concerned look, and said, “Don’t be nervous, everything will go well.”

“I know, daddy.” I answered, but in truth, I didn’t know. I was so scared that the men would not recognize me as a human being, only because I was female, and daddy seemed to have read my mind.

“Dad?” I looked up into his deep blue eyes. “Have you told the men about me?” I inquired.

“Yes, I explained to those who were near at the time…I haven’t told the crew yet, but don’t worry” he added hurriedly, “They’ll love you.” Daddy concluded a triumphant smile on his lips, but not in his eyes. Since momma died, none of his smiles reached his eyes.

The fog outside was starting to clear off as we got closer to the dock. Daddy kept on glancing out the window, then at me and Mr. Peters. The doctor was awake by this time and glancing at his pocket watch. “We should be getting there by now…” as soon as he uttered those words, the carriage stopped.

The door swung open and daddy got out, fallowed by the doctor, and then myself. Dad helped me down, as the driver got my things. The air outside of the carriage was cold and nippy. While the doctor went ahead to announce our arrival, daddy gave me a reassuring look. I linked my arm through his, and we walked toward the ship.

I’d heard loads about the ship, but I’ve never actually seen it. But right there, in front of me, a giant shadow drifted out of the fog. The Siren towered before me. I stood for a second, letting it all sink in, then I felt my dad tug on my arm.

Daddy and I walked up the wide platform that served as a staircase. On board of the glorious ship, we were greeted by the co-captain, a man in his early thirties, and the pest of daddy’s personal crew. One young man stood out from the rest. He was tall, and had chestnut brown hair, and hazel eyes.

Lieutenant Sky Summerson bowed and scooped my hand into his. Maintaining eye contact, he placed the gentlest of kisses on my gloved knuckle. I felt a blush creep up my neck as I curtsied back. I hurriedly greeted everyone else, and ran back to daddy. “Come,” he said “I have to show you your rooms.” Daddy winked at me. One last curious look at Mr. Summerson, and I followed daddy.

Two

Daddy took me down to the lower levels of the Siren. First, we entered his room, which was filled with all kinds of maps, sketches, and models. I looked around for a bed. “Dad? Where do you sleep?” I asked, still looking.

“Right there.” He pointed to the piece of cloth hanging from the ceiling..

“Oh…” I breathed, expecting to have the same sleeping quarters.

“Don’t worry,” daddy said, seeing the look on my face. He took me though the door that was in the left wall of his quarters.

When I entered, I sucked in my breath. My room was perfect. It had absolutely everything. Even a real bed, that could not be moved, on account of it being fastened to the floor. Everything I would need was there. From a closet, already filled with my trunks, to a table, with creamy stationary, monogrammed with my initials.

On the right side of the door was a wall made up of windows, so I could look out. It even had built in benches under the windows for me to sit on. I gave my dad a look of delight and awe, and threw myself into his arms. “Oh thank-you, daddy!” I cried, and after taking another look around, added, “You planned all of this out, didn’t you?” He nodded, then took me by the hand and led me to another room.

In the middle of the room stood a beautiful grand piano. Beside it was daddy’s violin and clarinet. It turned out the clarinet belonged to the co-captain, Mr. Wheeler. “You can continue your studies with Georges” daddy said “Not only musical.” He added meaningfully, and walked out of the room, giving me a brief smile. Somehow he understood that I wanted to be “alone” with the piano.

Just as I finished playing one of my pieces, I felt someone else in the room was present. I turned on the piano bench and saw standing in the doorway, gazing at me. “You’re very good, miss Lyons,” he said with a little bow. He was wearing a biscuit-colored pair of trousers , that matched his vest. The trimming on ’s black coat was an off white, and went with his neck ruffle. His hair was brushed back from his face, but a strand still managed to escape when he took off his hat.

Suddenly, I snapped out of my daze, and politely replied, “Thank-you, Mr. Summerson. Do you play?” I motioned toward the piano.

“No,” he answered a note of regret in his voice “I play guitar though…well, come to think of it, I can play chopsticks on the piano…” Mr. Summerson raised his eyebrows. “ May I?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” I said, standing up.

“I think you’re forgetting, Miss Lyons, that chopsticks is played with two people?” Mr. Summerson said, an inviting twinkle in his eyes.

I moved back to the piano. I was very careful not to tough Mr. Summerson. He put his finger down, not getting the right note. “Actually, it’s right here.” I said, moving his finger to the F. In order to do that, I was forced to touch his hand. Mr. Summerson’s skin felt smooth, but rough at the same time .

When we finished playing, I stood up, and Mr. Summerson followed. “You will have to show me your guitar sometime, Mr. Summerson,” I said

“Well, how about tonight, after dinner?” he asked.

“I would like that.” I answered. “Thank-you.”

“Oh, and miss, would you be so kind as to call me Sky?” he requested.

“Alright…how old are you, Sky?” I inquired, cocking my head to the side a bit.

“Just turned eighteen, last week, miss.” He beamed. I smiled back politely.

After that, I went to my wonderful room, to change for dinner. It was hard to tie the laces on my corset, but I managed after a while. I was not allowed to wear lip rouge or blush yet, so I had to get by with biting my lips and pinching my cheeks. It worked just as well. Now all I had to do was choose a dress. Daddy had relieved me from mourning garments, except a black band around my wrist. So I could wear any dress I wanted.