(no subject)
Author: athousandsmiles
Title: Pearl's House 9/10
Rating: Now rated M to be safe
Genre: angst, romance, au, supernatural
Summary: Cameron tried to shake off the feeling of being watched and made quick work of searching the place for anything unusual. Problem was, everything there was unusual.
A/N: Written for the weekly challenge at hughvillefics for the prompt New Year's Eve. Unbeta'd
ETA: I just want to thank sharp2799 for some valuable input on this chapter, and for keeping me on track. &hearts
previous chapter
11 March 1843
Dearest Stephen purchased this journal for me as a birthday gift. I hope to keep record of our adventures here, as we set forth for America.
Today Stephen and I secured our passage aboard the Alyson. For the first time I met the infamous Captain Cottin and I must say that he was nowhere near as terrible as I had always heard him described. I had imagined a man so horrible that one would not dare to look upon his face. Perhaps my imagination had run away from me, but whenever I had heard him spoken of, there was a tone of loathing as if he were the most despicable man to walk the earth. Stephen himself had told me that the captain was recalcitrant and lacking the good manners that come from a proper upbringing. What I found in Captain Cottin was a reasonably handsome man with the coldest blue eyes I had ever seen that put me in mind of the ice floes along the edge of the river. He did not smile or tip his hat, but there was something of a curiosity behind those eyes of his as he stared me down and I knew then that he was a mere man and not the fabled monster I had conjured up in my imagination.
24 March 1843
Stephen and I leave for America tomorrow. I have resolved not to cry for Mother's sake, though I shall miss her and Father dearly. If not for my excitement for the adventure ahead of me, I would simply dissolve into a river of tears and Stephen would have to scoop me into his decanter and carry me aboard the ship. I am only thankful to have my brother with me on this journey.
25 March 1843
We are on our way. The sea air is brisk, but preferable to being cooped up below deck with the other passengers. I find myself hoping for glimpses of Captain Cottin, though I have been told that he prefers his solitude.
28 March 1843
Stephen has taken ill. I believe that the sea does not agree with him. Many of the passengers are also ill and it makes for a very uncomfortable journey. I am reminded of the sheep stuffed into their pen back at home. We are afforded scant personal space and there is very little privacy. I feel a twinge of conscience that I am unaffected by the motion of the ship like so many others. But Stephen is thankful to have my company. I caught a glimpse of the captain today while walking about the deck. He looked so stately pacing about with his hands clasped behind his back. I couldn't help but curtsy and offer a greeting. He merely offered a reluctant "Miss McCready" in reply, and I must say that it was a pleasant and unexpected surprise that he recalled my name.
29 March 1843
Stephen fares no better. I wish there was something I could do to ease his discomfort. I spoke again to Captain Cottin today. I was very bold and went right up to him to inquire about the length of our journey. He looked down upon me with such a scowl; I must admit I nearly laughed for it reminded me of cousin Mary's corgi who is prone to growl fiercely when displeased, but is as harmless as a rose petal. He said, "Miss McCready, why do you insist on asking foolish questions when you already know the answer?" And I said, "Perhaps because I long to hear something besides the wind."
1 April 1843
I'm very afraid that Stephen's illness is more severe than first thought. He grows weaker and weaker each day. I do not wish to leave his side, but he insists I take to the deck for fresh air lest I get sick myself. I have encountered Captain Cottin nearly every day. I suspect he enjoys our encounters as much as I do, for he is not known to be seen among the passengers so often. Stephen likes to hear of our brief conversations and I believe his impression of the captain grows more favorable.
5 April 1843
Stephen requested a meeting with Captain Cottin. I don't know what he wants to say; he won't tell me. But I am very worried.
6 April 1843
Today Stephen bid me stay by his side. He is very weak and pale and thin. I cannot bear the thought of losing him.
9 April 1843
Stephen is gone. I am alone.
16 April 1843
Captain Cottin has sent for me. I have barely left the passenger's quarters since Stephen's passing. If it were possible I would throw myself into the sea and swim home to Mother and Father.
17 April 1843
Captain Cottin is an insufferable man. I do not understand him at all. We had a quarrel today. He said to me, "Miss McCready, you will dine with me for the remainder of our journey." When I told him I wished to take my meals below with the other passengers, he scowled and said, "That wasn't a request, Miss," and I said, "I'm not one of your shipmen, Sir, that you may order around." Then he made a grunting sound and marched off.
18 April 1843
I spoke to the captain again today and requested return passage when we arrive in America. Without Stephen there is nothing there for me. I fear I am not brave enough to make my way alone in a new land. Captain Cottin would not give me an answer at first about return passage. He merely began to walk away from me, but I grabbed hold of his sleeve and firmly told him I would like an answer. He said, "Miss McCready, if you can pay for your passage, then I will return you safely home. If you cannot pay then I will drop you on the shore to fend for yourself." I miss Stephen dearly.
19 April 1843
Today I presented the Captain with my fare for return passage. He would not take it, nor would he speak to me. That man infuriates me.
20 April 1843
I find myself often contemplating Captain Abel Cottin. It makes a nice distraction when I begin to sink into despair longing for Stephen's company. I do believe the captain is the most capable man I have ever met, so his given name is quite apt. I caught him humming a mournful tune today and it was terribly sad and beautiful all at once and I found myself crying. He turned to me as if he'd known I was there all along and said, "What do you want, Pearl?" in a very soft voice. I was certain he'd mistaken me for someone else, and I said, "My name is not Pearl, Sir. My given name is Struana." And he said, "I know," and turned away. I fear I will never understand him.
23 April 1843
The captain has again asked me to dine with him, though he did so in such a way that it seemed as if it pained him to do so. I accepted. I have begun to think of him as Abel in my secret thoughts.
24 April 1843
I have discovered something unsettling. I love Abel. I love that infuriating man. I wish I had Stephen to advise me.
27 April 1843
Abel continues to call me Pearl with no explanation as to why. He is by turns gruff and short-tempered with me and then kind and tender. I wonder if he knows of my feelings. I wonder if he feels anything for me. Tonight we talked of the sea. We stood on the deck with a vast array of stars above us and he said that this was his home. He looked into my eyes when he said it, as if he meant for me to truly understand him.
1 May 1843
In just over a fortnight we will reach America's shores. I don't know what will become of me. Abel remains silent on the subject of my return passage.
3 May 1843
Yester evening Abel was in a foul mood. I did not know what to make of it, and only tried to act as if nothing was amiss. Then in his usual abrupt manner, he said to me, "Miss McCready, if you've any romantic notions of me, you must disavow yourself of them immediately." I must confess I laughed, which only seemed to darken his mood further. I did not mean to be unkind, but his words startled me, unexpected as they were. We walked along the deck in silence for a while and then he said, "Why are you here, Pearl? Why do you not flee in mortification at my insults and vulgar ways like every other civilized woman?" I said to him, "I don't find you vulgar, Captain. You are the most forthright man I have ever known, not given to coddle one unnecessarily, but kind in your own way. You've been a great comfort to me." After that, he merely looked at me strangely and then bid me goodnight.
4 May 1843
Today has brought the most unexpected of surprises. Abel was more surly than usual. With the darkest of expressions on his face, he said to me, "Pearl, what would you say if I proposed marriage?" I felt as if the breath had been pulled from me and could not speak at first. He grew impatient and began to walk away, and I took hold of his sleeve and said, "I would say yes, Captain," and he said, "Then you are a fool, Pearl." I simply smiled and put my arms around him and he looked down at me and said with such a fierce scowl on his face, "If you are foolish enough to feel any affection for me, then you will be punished accordingly by having the dubious distinction of becoming my wife."
We were married right away by Abel's first mate, and Abel had my things moved to his cabin. I am now Struana Cottin, and I can scarcely believe it. After the ceremony, Abel left me in his cabin and went back to his duties, and I stayed there becoming friends with the books and belongings of this man I love so much. My husband.
10 May 1843
There was a terrible storm yesterday that came upon us suddenly. I was merely walking along the deck when the ship tipped violently to one side and I was thrown over the side of the hold area. I did not fall far, but it was terribly frightening. One of Abel's men lowered another down with a rope and fetched me back up. Abel was very angry and told me to go back to the cabin and stay there, and I felt very foolish to be scolded in such a way. Instead, I went down to the passenger area and back to Stephen's bunk. My ankle was throbbing mercilessly and I found myself missing him with a near desperation. I laid down and cried for I don't know how long before Abel appeared again and carried me back to his cabin. He was so gentle, tending to my ankle and drying my tears and I knew then that he'd only been angry with me out of fear and worry. I do believe sometimes that he might love me.
3 June 1843
We have arrived on the shores of America at last. Abel says we will stay here in this town called Silver Pines for a bit before he has to go back to sea. He is building a house for me. We have quarreled over that house endlessly. I don't want to be left here. I want to sail with Abel, but he tells me the sea is no place for me. He is wrong. I love it as much as he does and I want to be with him wherever he goes.
15 July 1843
Abel is gone back to his ship. He has built me a magnificent house on a little island where I can look out over the ocean and watch for him. I know the building of the house cost him dearly to have it constructed so quickly. It's the loveliest house I've ever seen and I despise it with all that is within me. I pleaded with Abel to let me stay with him, but he grew angrier and angrier until finally he told me I'd only be more of a nuisance on the ship and that he only married me to fulfill a promise to Stephen that he would look after me. Those were his final words to me before he left.
16 July 1843
Abel has hired a maid to stay and help me and keep me company. Her name is Mary and she's rather unpleasant, but efficient. She seems to be as unhappy to be here as I am, though I know Abel has paid her handsomely. I do not think she likes being on this island. The merchant in Silver Pines, Mr. Olger, has agreed to come out to the island once a fortnight to bring us supplies. Abel left me a generous supply of money and I have ordered a number of books, which will be to me better company than Mary.
30 August 1843
I have neglected my journal these past weeks because there is nothing new to write of. My days are spent reading, walking along the shores of my little island prison and waiting for Abel's return. I have also cultivated a little garden in the back of the house with seed packets that Mr. Olger brought for me. This place is terribly lonely. Mary gave up and went back to Silver Pines with Mr. Olger last week. She returned to me the money that Abel had paid her and bid me goodbye. I do not miss her. I am no more alone now than I was in her presence.
10 October 1843
Winter is fast approaching. Lately I toy with the idea of going into town with Mr. Olger and staying there. I do not relish a long winter alone on this island. I grow hopeless at the idea that Abel will return. Maybe he meant to leave me here for good and go on about his life. Any idea I ever entertained that he might love me has disappeared with the warmth of the summer sun. He has fulfilled his promise; he has seen to my care and there is nothing more for him to do. And yet, I love him still and miss him so. Every ship I see in the distance sets my heart to pounding with anticipation, but I am only met with disappointment.
12 November 1843
Abel has come home. I was so overjoyed at the sight of him striding up the path from the beach that I charged straight into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time. He touched my cheek, smiled and said, "So you've missed me then?" Foolish man. I will make him love me yet.
15 November 1843
Abel is only home for a few weeks and then he will set sail again. My heart despairs at the thought. While he is here, this island is a happy place and I will cherish this time, though the immediate future looms before me like a dark storm on the horizon. He was displeased to learn that Mary abandoned me and vowed to go and hire another maid, but I have dissuaded him. There is not enough work here for two women, I told him. I did not say that no other woman wishes to be isolated here as I have been.
1 December 1843
Abel is gone again. I can't feel too unhappy because I could see how much he longed to be back on his ship while he was here with me. I only wish for him to be happy. I asked again if I could go with him, but he scowled and shook his head and so I let the matter drop. Pressing him would only lead to more quarreling. He has left me with a new supply of books to fill the new shelves he built for me. He also gave to me a little pearl on a gold chain, which he clasped around my neck so tenderly. I miss him so already.
The journal entries went on in this manner for quite a few pages: Abel returning from sea only to leave Pearl again and again. The loneliness she felt seemed to rise off the paper like a living thing. Cameron thought she might break down and cry at the very thought of Pearl alone in that house for so many months and years. And then...
9 April 1846
Abel is home. He was not expected until the fall, but today I saw several men coming up from the beach, supporting Abel between them. He looked so gaunt and pale, I knew immediately that something was wrong. With my heart in my throat, I ran to meet them and helped to get him to our bed. There was a terrible accident aboard the ship, they said, and Abel was injured. His right arm is supported by a sling of fabric and his fingers are so swollen they look like fat sausages. He is in a great deal of pain and very sullen and angry. His men left again. A new captain will take Abel's ship. All I can do is tend his wounds and try to keep him still.
16 April 1846
Abel is very unhappy. He growls at me like an angry cur no matter what I do. He knows he will likely never heal enough to take the helm of his ship again. My heart breaks for him. He barely rests, and insists on pacing along the widow's watch, looking out toward the sea. As much as I've longed to have him with me, this is the furthest from my wishes. I love him so. I wish it was enough.
20 April 1846
Abel grows a bit stronger each day, though he is still in great pain. He marches down to the beach daily and spends hours staring out across the water and I know how much he misses it. I've lain beside him every night, reading to him from my collection of books. He doesn't say, but I think he enjoys it if even only a little bit. His presence is all that is required to secure my happiness. I just wish I could make him as happy as he makes me.
25 April 1846
Today Abel arranged for the merchant to return to Silver Pines with me, without so much as a by-your-leave. I grew furious and refused to go. I have never been so angry in all my life; I do believe I scared poor Mr. Olger. He took to his skiff and rowed back to shore with a speed I have never seen before. And then Abel was angry with me for not going along. He demanded to know why I stayed with him. He repeated that he did not love me and had only married me to fulfill a promise and that I should take my leave of him while I had the chance. I told him that I would do no such thing, that I loved him regardless of his feelings on the matter and that I only wished to make him happy. He called me a fool and then laughed in such a way that I knew there was no humor behind it. He said that if I refused to free myself, then I deserved to be stuck with a bitter, broken old man. I simply took his arm and led him back to the house. We sat on the porch quietly for a while, keeping watch over the waves of the ocean and then I said to him, "I do not think you are old or broken," and he laughed, a real laugh, for the first time in a very long time.
27 April 1846
Abel is a stubborn, stubborn man. He has removed the sling from his arm, though it pains him more without it. He is determined to act as if he is healed completely, though he is likely slowing his recovery. He will not listen to reason. For such a smart man, he can be such a fool.
1 May 1846
I was out behind the house today caring for the laundry when Abel came out and sat on the steps. He just sat and watched for a long time, unnerving me with those eyes of his, and then he said, "You are very beautiful, Pearl," and I felt as if I must have blushed as red as the fat cardinals that perch in the pines on a winter's day. Those words made me unbearably happy. It is little moments like these where I believe that he may come to love me.
10 May 1846
Today was gray and rainy, and Abel woke in a churlish mood. The damp sets into his arm and makes him ache so. I made a warm compress and laid it against his arm, and then I sat beside him and read from a book of poems. In the midst of my reading, he put his hand on the book and pressed it down and said to me, "Why do you love me, Pearl?" His question caught me unawares, and I had to stop and think for a moment. Finally I said, "I love you because you're you."
12 May 1846
This afternoon I made fern pies for Mr. Olger and his wife, with an extra batch especially for Abel. He sat at the table watching, the back door open to the fresh spring breeze. He didn't speak, just watched, occasionally humming a little tune. His mood was much improved, which made me very happy. While the pies were resting, we sat on the back porch together and he said to me, "You're a comfort to me, Pearl." Then later, we walked down to the beach and stood facing the sea for a while. I put my arm in his and said, "I know how much you miss it," and he turned to me and said, "I have not been entirely truthful with you, Pearl. While I did promise Stephen that I would look after you, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you and that is why I married you." He loves me. The dearest, most wonderful man in the world loves me. I require no more than this.
The entries went on in this vein for a while and Cameron felt strangely happy for this woman from another era, who had finally won the heart of the man she loved. Their happiness however, was dampened by future events.
18 November 1846
I am with child. Abel seems only to fear for my health, but I am quite certain I must be the happiest woman alive.
There were more entries about Pearl's pregnancy and then...
5 March 1847
Our son has come early. He will not live long; I feel it in my heart. I have called him Stephen Alistair after my beloved brother. I hope they will meet in Heaven.
15 March 1847
My sweet baby boy has passed on. My heart has died within my chest, and I will lay it in the grave with my beautiful son.
30 April 1847
Abel carved a stone to mark Stephen's grave. I went out there for Abel's sake, though I want only to stay to my bed.
House and Cameron were coming to the end of the journal. They read about the journey of healing from the loss of her son, how Pearl's grief lessened in its intensity with time, though never disappeared altogether. In June of 1848, she gave birth to another child, a healthy boy named John Abel, after his father. Cameron wondered if maybe caring for her son had so consumed Pearl, that she neglected her journal, though there were brief accounts of the child's accomplishments and more mentions of Abel, and Pearl's love for her little family.
29 October 1863
Father sends word from Scotland that Mother is very ill. He wishes me to return at once. John Abel will accompany me. I have begged Abel to come with us, but he refuses. Stubborn man. He says that if he cannot captain the ship, he will not set foot on it. I have not been parted from him for many years now. It is strange to think that it is I who will go off to sea and leave Abel behind. I wish he would change his mind. I will miss him terribly.
30 October 1863
John Abel and I depart tomorrow. I am leaving my journal behind. Abel has purchased a new one for me, as there are few pages left to fill in this one. I do believe he most wanted to be certain I had enough paper to write to him daily. I've a feeling he wants to come with us, but he is too stubborn to admit it. I despair of thinking of him alone in the house. I only hope to get back to him as soon as possible. It feels very strange to be leaving him behind, as if I am leaving a vital part of myself.
That was the last entry written by Pearl. There were several more, written by Abel in a strong, masculine hand-- letters to Pearl as he waited for her to come home. They were so full of longing and regret and heartbreak, that Cameron could hardly breathe from the pain in her chest his words brought.
5 December 1863
Dearest Pearl,
Just as you have written, I am a stubborn foolish man. From the moment I watched your ship take leave from the shore, I knew that I had made a terrible mistake. You are the very force that has kept me alive all these years when otherwise I would have given myself up as a useless shell of a man. I am ashamed of how often I let you believe that I was indifferent to your affections and charms. Pearl, I have never been indifferent to you. I know now how lonely you were all those years here while I was away at sea and it tears at the very fabric of my heart. Perhaps I even suspected it would be so when I built this house for you, but I could not bear the thought of leaving you in town where you might meet some handsome gentlemen who would surely try and steal your heart from me. From the moment I set eyes on you, I felt that you were mine. I should have kept you with me always, but I feared for your safety on the ship and I feared you would grow to resent the months at sea. Without you, this house, this island, is a prison. I am going mad with need for you, Pearl.
Your devoted husband,
Abel
25 December 1863
My Dearest Pearl,
How is it that I have never told you how I came to call you Pearl? I am ashamed of how much of my heart I kept from you. Upon our first meeting, I thought that you must surely be a rare treasure from the sea, a pearl of a woman. You must know how foreign such thoughts were for me at that time, and I felt foolish immediately. I had encountered many beautiful women, some of whom even tried to garner my affections, though I was and am firmly convinced that they were more enamored of my pocketbook than they were of my charms given that I have no charms whatsoever. They were easily frightened off; I felt no crisis of conscience for my harsh treatment of those vain and foolish creatures. And then you came along and set me as off-kilter as a sudden and violent storm at sea. You were not so easily put off, Pearl, and for that I am eternally grateful. I miss you with a desperation that borders on madness, Pearl. Please come home to me soon.
A slave to your affections, I am
Abel
The letters were all of the same theme: Abel's loneliness and longing to tell Pearl all that was in his heart. With each one, Abel's sense of desperation became more and more apparent; Cameron wondered if he did eventually go insane. His words were like little stones tossed on the river of time, casting ripples that spanned the generations between them.
House glanced at Cameron briefly, an inscrutable look in those fathomless blue eyes of his, and then he turned to the last page.
14 February 1864
I have received a letter from John Abel today, and it may as well have been my own death notice. Pearl is gone, died at sea before ever making it to Scotland. She did not live to see 1864. John Abel will stay with his grandparents, and I will dig myself a grave for I am as good as dead without her.
continue
Title: Pearl's House 9/10
Rating: Now rated M to be safe
Genre: angst, romance, au, supernatural
Summary: Cameron tried to shake off the feeling of being watched and made quick work of searching the place for anything unusual. Problem was, everything there was unusual.
A/N: Written for the weekly challenge at hughvillefics for the prompt New Year's Eve. Unbeta'd
ETA: I just want to thank sharp2799 for some valuable input on this chapter, and for keeping me on track. &hearts
previous chapter
11 March 1843
Dearest Stephen purchased this journal for me as a birthday gift. I hope to keep record of our adventures here, as we set forth for America.
Today Stephen and I secured our passage aboard the Alyson. For the first time I met the infamous Captain Cottin and I must say that he was nowhere near as terrible as I had always heard him described. I had imagined a man so horrible that one would not dare to look upon his face. Perhaps my imagination had run away from me, but whenever I had heard him spoken of, there was a tone of loathing as if he were the most despicable man to walk the earth. Stephen himself had told me that the captain was recalcitrant and lacking the good manners that come from a proper upbringing. What I found in Captain Cottin was a reasonably handsome man with the coldest blue eyes I had ever seen that put me in mind of the ice floes along the edge of the river. He did not smile or tip his hat, but there was something of a curiosity behind those eyes of his as he stared me down and I knew then that he was a mere man and not the fabled monster I had conjured up in my imagination.
24 March 1843
Stephen and I leave for America tomorrow. I have resolved not to cry for Mother's sake, though I shall miss her and Father dearly. If not for my excitement for the adventure ahead of me, I would simply dissolve into a river of tears and Stephen would have to scoop me into his decanter and carry me aboard the ship. I am only thankful to have my brother with me on this journey.
25 March 1843
We are on our way. The sea air is brisk, but preferable to being cooped up below deck with the other passengers. I find myself hoping for glimpses of Captain Cottin, though I have been told that he prefers his solitude.
28 March 1843
Stephen has taken ill. I believe that the sea does not agree with him. Many of the passengers are also ill and it makes for a very uncomfortable journey. I am reminded of the sheep stuffed into their pen back at home. We are afforded scant personal space and there is very little privacy. I feel a twinge of conscience that I am unaffected by the motion of the ship like so many others. But Stephen is thankful to have my company. I caught a glimpse of the captain today while walking about the deck. He looked so stately pacing about with his hands clasped behind his back. I couldn't help but curtsy and offer a greeting. He merely offered a reluctant "Miss McCready" in reply, and I must say that it was a pleasant and unexpected surprise that he recalled my name.
29 March 1843
Stephen fares no better. I wish there was something I could do to ease his discomfort. I spoke again to Captain Cottin today. I was very bold and went right up to him to inquire about the length of our journey. He looked down upon me with such a scowl; I must admit I nearly laughed for it reminded me of cousin Mary's corgi who is prone to growl fiercely when displeased, but is as harmless as a rose petal. He said, "Miss McCready, why do you insist on asking foolish questions when you already know the answer?" And I said, "Perhaps because I long to hear something besides the wind."
1 April 1843
I'm very afraid that Stephen's illness is more severe than first thought. He grows weaker and weaker each day. I do not wish to leave his side, but he insists I take to the deck for fresh air lest I get sick myself. I have encountered Captain Cottin nearly every day. I suspect he enjoys our encounters as much as I do, for he is not known to be seen among the passengers so often. Stephen likes to hear of our brief conversations and I believe his impression of the captain grows more favorable.
5 April 1843
Stephen requested a meeting with Captain Cottin. I don't know what he wants to say; he won't tell me. But I am very worried.
6 April 1843
Today Stephen bid me stay by his side. He is very weak and pale and thin. I cannot bear the thought of losing him.
9 April 1843
Stephen is gone. I am alone.
16 April 1843
Captain Cottin has sent for me. I have barely left the passenger's quarters since Stephen's passing. If it were possible I would throw myself into the sea and swim home to Mother and Father.
17 April 1843
Captain Cottin is an insufferable man. I do not understand him at all. We had a quarrel today. He said to me, "Miss McCready, you will dine with me for the remainder of our journey." When I told him I wished to take my meals below with the other passengers, he scowled and said, "That wasn't a request, Miss," and I said, "I'm not one of your shipmen, Sir, that you may order around." Then he made a grunting sound and marched off.
18 April 1843
I spoke to the captain again today and requested return passage when we arrive in America. Without Stephen there is nothing there for me. I fear I am not brave enough to make my way alone in a new land. Captain Cottin would not give me an answer at first about return passage. He merely began to walk away from me, but I grabbed hold of his sleeve and firmly told him I would like an answer. He said, "Miss McCready, if you can pay for your passage, then I will return you safely home. If you cannot pay then I will drop you on the shore to fend for yourself." I miss Stephen dearly.
19 April 1843
Today I presented the Captain with my fare for return passage. He would not take it, nor would he speak to me. That man infuriates me.
20 April 1843
I find myself often contemplating Captain Abel Cottin. It makes a nice distraction when I begin to sink into despair longing for Stephen's company. I do believe the captain is the most capable man I have ever met, so his given name is quite apt. I caught him humming a mournful tune today and it was terribly sad and beautiful all at once and I found myself crying. He turned to me as if he'd known I was there all along and said, "What do you want, Pearl?" in a very soft voice. I was certain he'd mistaken me for someone else, and I said, "My name is not Pearl, Sir. My given name is Struana." And he said, "I know," and turned away. I fear I will never understand him.
23 April 1843
The captain has again asked me to dine with him, though he did so in such a way that it seemed as if it pained him to do so. I accepted. I have begun to think of him as Abel in my secret thoughts.
24 April 1843
I have discovered something unsettling. I love Abel. I love that infuriating man. I wish I had Stephen to advise me.
27 April 1843
Abel continues to call me Pearl with no explanation as to why. He is by turns gruff and short-tempered with me and then kind and tender. I wonder if he knows of my feelings. I wonder if he feels anything for me. Tonight we talked of the sea. We stood on the deck with a vast array of stars above us and he said that this was his home. He looked into my eyes when he said it, as if he meant for me to truly understand him.
1 May 1843
In just over a fortnight we will reach America's shores. I don't know what will become of me. Abel remains silent on the subject of my return passage.
3 May 1843
Yester evening Abel was in a foul mood. I did not know what to make of it, and only tried to act as if nothing was amiss. Then in his usual abrupt manner, he said to me, "Miss McCready, if you've any romantic notions of me, you must disavow yourself of them immediately." I must confess I laughed, which only seemed to darken his mood further. I did not mean to be unkind, but his words startled me, unexpected as they were. We walked along the deck in silence for a while and then he said, "Why are you here, Pearl? Why do you not flee in mortification at my insults and vulgar ways like every other civilized woman?" I said to him, "I don't find you vulgar, Captain. You are the most forthright man I have ever known, not given to coddle one unnecessarily, but kind in your own way. You've been a great comfort to me." After that, he merely looked at me strangely and then bid me goodnight.
4 May 1843
Today has brought the most unexpected of surprises. Abel was more surly than usual. With the darkest of expressions on his face, he said to me, "Pearl, what would you say if I proposed marriage?" I felt as if the breath had been pulled from me and could not speak at first. He grew impatient and began to walk away, and I took hold of his sleeve and said, "I would say yes, Captain," and he said, "Then you are a fool, Pearl." I simply smiled and put my arms around him and he looked down at me and said with such a fierce scowl on his face, "If you are foolish enough to feel any affection for me, then you will be punished accordingly by having the dubious distinction of becoming my wife."
We were married right away by Abel's first mate, and Abel had my things moved to his cabin. I am now Struana Cottin, and I can scarcely believe it. After the ceremony, Abel left me in his cabin and went back to his duties, and I stayed there becoming friends with the books and belongings of this man I love so much. My husband.
10 May 1843
There was a terrible storm yesterday that came upon us suddenly. I was merely walking along the deck when the ship tipped violently to one side and I was thrown over the side of the hold area. I did not fall far, but it was terribly frightening. One of Abel's men lowered another down with a rope and fetched me back up. Abel was very angry and told me to go back to the cabin and stay there, and I felt very foolish to be scolded in such a way. Instead, I went down to the passenger area and back to Stephen's bunk. My ankle was throbbing mercilessly and I found myself missing him with a near desperation. I laid down and cried for I don't know how long before Abel appeared again and carried me back to his cabin. He was so gentle, tending to my ankle and drying my tears and I knew then that he'd only been angry with me out of fear and worry. I do believe sometimes that he might love me.
3 June 1843
We have arrived on the shores of America at last. Abel says we will stay here in this town called Silver Pines for a bit before he has to go back to sea. He is building a house for me. We have quarreled over that house endlessly. I don't want to be left here. I want to sail with Abel, but he tells me the sea is no place for me. He is wrong. I love it as much as he does and I want to be with him wherever he goes.
15 July 1843
Abel is gone back to his ship. He has built me a magnificent house on a little island where I can look out over the ocean and watch for him. I know the building of the house cost him dearly to have it constructed so quickly. It's the loveliest house I've ever seen and I despise it with all that is within me. I pleaded with Abel to let me stay with him, but he grew angrier and angrier until finally he told me I'd only be more of a nuisance on the ship and that he only married me to fulfill a promise to Stephen that he would look after me. Those were his final words to me before he left.
16 July 1843
Abel has hired a maid to stay and help me and keep me company. Her name is Mary and she's rather unpleasant, but efficient. She seems to be as unhappy to be here as I am, though I know Abel has paid her handsomely. I do not think she likes being on this island. The merchant in Silver Pines, Mr. Olger, has agreed to come out to the island once a fortnight to bring us supplies. Abel left me a generous supply of money and I have ordered a number of books, which will be to me better company than Mary.
30 August 1843
I have neglected my journal these past weeks because there is nothing new to write of. My days are spent reading, walking along the shores of my little island prison and waiting for Abel's return. I have also cultivated a little garden in the back of the house with seed packets that Mr. Olger brought for me. This place is terribly lonely. Mary gave up and went back to Silver Pines with Mr. Olger last week. She returned to me the money that Abel had paid her and bid me goodbye. I do not miss her. I am no more alone now than I was in her presence.
10 October 1843
Winter is fast approaching. Lately I toy with the idea of going into town with Mr. Olger and staying there. I do not relish a long winter alone on this island. I grow hopeless at the idea that Abel will return. Maybe he meant to leave me here for good and go on about his life. Any idea I ever entertained that he might love me has disappeared with the warmth of the summer sun. He has fulfilled his promise; he has seen to my care and there is nothing more for him to do. And yet, I love him still and miss him so. Every ship I see in the distance sets my heart to pounding with anticipation, but I am only met with disappointment.
12 November 1843
Abel has come home. I was so overjoyed at the sight of him striding up the path from the beach that I charged straight into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time. He touched my cheek, smiled and said, "So you've missed me then?" Foolish man. I will make him love me yet.
15 November 1843
Abel is only home for a few weeks and then he will set sail again. My heart despairs at the thought. While he is here, this island is a happy place and I will cherish this time, though the immediate future looms before me like a dark storm on the horizon. He was displeased to learn that Mary abandoned me and vowed to go and hire another maid, but I have dissuaded him. There is not enough work here for two women, I told him. I did not say that no other woman wishes to be isolated here as I have been.
1 December 1843
Abel is gone again. I can't feel too unhappy because I could see how much he longed to be back on his ship while he was here with me. I only wish for him to be happy. I asked again if I could go with him, but he scowled and shook his head and so I let the matter drop. Pressing him would only lead to more quarreling. He has left me with a new supply of books to fill the new shelves he built for me. He also gave to me a little pearl on a gold chain, which he clasped around my neck so tenderly. I miss him so already.
The journal entries went on in this manner for quite a few pages: Abel returning from sea only to leave Pearl again and again. The loneliness she felt seemed to rise off the paper like a living thing. Cameron thought she might break down and cry at the very thought of Pearl alone in that house for so many months and years. And then...
9 April 1846
Abel is home. He was not expected until the fall, but today I saw several men coming up from the beach, supporting Abel between them. He looked so gaunt and pale, I knew immediately that something was wrong. With my heart in my throat, I ran to meet them and helped to get him to our bed. There was a terrible accident aboard the ship, they said, and Abel was injured. His right arm is supported by a sling of fabric and his fingers are so swollen they look like fat sausages. He is in a great deal of pain and very sullen and angry. His men left again. A new captain will take Abel's ship. All I can do is tend his wounds and try to keep him still.
16 April 1846
Abel is very unhappy. He growls at me like an angry cur no matter what I do. He knows he will likely never heal enough to take the helm of his ship again. My heart breaks for him. He barely rests, and insists on pacing along the widow's watch, looking out toward the sea. As much as I've longed to have him with me, this is the furthest from my wishes. I love him so. I wish it was enough.
20 April 1846
Abel grows a bit stronger each day, though he is still in great pain. He marches down to the beach daily and spends hours staring out across the water and I know how much he misses it. I've lain beside him every night, reading to him from my collection of books. He doesn't say, but I think he enjoys it if even only a little bit. His presence is all that is required to secure my happiness. I just wish I could make him as happy as he makes me.
25 April 1846
Today Abel arranged for the merchant to return to Silver Pines with me, without so much as a by-your-leave. I grew furious and refused to go. I have never been so angry in all my life; I do believe I scared poor Mr. Olger. He took to his skiff and rowed back to shore with a speed I have never seen before. And then Abel was angry with me for not going along. He demanded to know why I stayed with him. He repeated that he did not love me and had only married me to fulfill a promise and that I should take my leave of him while I had the chance. I told him that I would do no such thing, that I loved him regardless of his feelings on the matter and that I only wished to make him happy. He called me a fool and then laughed in such a way that I knew there was no humor behind it. He said that if I refused to free myself, then I deserved to be stuck with a bitter, broken old man. I simply took his arm and led him back to the house. We sat on the porch quietly for a while, keeping watch over the waves of the ocean and then I said to him, "I do not think you are old or broken," and he laughed, a real laugh, for the first time in a very long time.
27 April 1846
Abel is a stubborn, stubborn man. He has removed the sling from his arm, though it pains him more without it. He is determined to act as if he is healed completely, though he is likely slowing his recovery. He will not listen to reason. For such a smart man, he can be such a fool.
1 May 1846
I was out behind the house today caring for the laundry when Abel came out and sat on the steps. He just sat and watched for a long time, unnerving me with those eyes of his, and then he said, "You are very beautiful, Pearl," and I felt as if I must have blushed as red as the fat cardinals that perch in the pines on a winter's day. Those words made me unbearably happy. It is little moments like these where I believe that he may come to love me.
10 May 1846
Today was gray and rainy, and Abel woke in a churlish mood. The damp sets into his arm and makes him ache so. I made a warm compress and laid it against his arm, and then I sat beside him and read from a book of poems. In the midst of my reading, he put his hand on the book and pressed it down and said to me, "Why do you love me, Pearl?" His question caught me unawares, and I had to stop and think for a moment. Finally I said, "I love you because you're you."
12 May 1846
This afternoon I made fern pies for Mr. Olger and his wife, with an extra batch especially for Abel. He sat at the table watching, the back door open to the fresh spring breeze. He didn't speak, just watched, occasionally humming a little tune. His mood was much improved, which made me very happy. While the pies were resting, we sat on the back porch together and he said to me, "You're a comfort to me, Pearl." Then later, we walked down to the beach and stood facing the sea for a while. I put my arm in his and said, "I know how much you miss it," and he turned to me and said, "I have not been entirely truthful with you, Pearl. While I did promise Stephen that I would look after you, I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you and that is why I married you." He loves me. The dearest, most wonderful man in the world loves me. I require no more than this.
The entries went on in this vein for a while and Cameron felt strangely happy for this woman from another era, who had finally won the heart of the man she loved. Their happiness however, was dampened by future events.
18 November 1846
I am with child. Abel seems only to fear for my health, but I am quite certain I must be the happiest woman alive.
There were more entries about Pearl's pregnancy and then...
5 March 1847
Our son has come early. He will not live long; I feel it in my heart. I have called him Stephen Alistair after my beloved brother. I hope they will meet in Heaven.
15 March 1847
My sweet baby boy has passed on. My heart has died within my chest, and I will lay it in the grave with my beautiful son.
30 April 1847
Abel carved a stone to mark Stephen's grave. I went out there for Abel's sake, though I want only to stay to my bed.
House and Cameron were coming to the end of the journal. They read about the journey of healing from the loss of her son, how Pearl's grief lessened in its intensity with time, though never disappeared altogether. In June of 1848, she gave birth to another child, a healthy boy named John Abel, after his father. Cameron wondered if maybe caring for her son had so consumed Pearl, that she neglected her journal, though there were brief accounts of the child's accomplishments and more mentions of Abel, and Pearl's love for her little family.
29 October 1863
Father sends word from Scotland that Mother is very ill. He wishes me to return at once. John Abel will accompany me. I have begged Abel to come with us, but he refuses. Stubborn man. He says that if he cannot captain the ship, he will not set foot on it. I have not been parted from him for many years now. It is strange to think that it is I who will go off to sea and leave Abel behind. I wish he would change his mind. I will miss him terribly.
30 October 1863
John Abel and I depart tomorrow. I am leaving my journal behind. Abel has purchased a new one for me, as there are few pages left to fill in this one. I do believe he most wanted to be certain I had enough paper to write to him daily. I've a feeling he wants to come with us, but he is too stubborn to admit it. I despair of thinking of him alone in the house. I only hope to get back to him as soon as possible. It feels very strange to be leaving him behind, as if I am leaving a vital part of myself.
That was the last entry written by Pearl. There were several more, written by Abel in a strong, masculine hand-- letters to Pearl as he waited for her to come home. They were so full of longing and regret and heartbreak, that Cameron could hardly breathe from the pain in her chest his words brought.
5 December 1863
Dearest Pearl,
Just as you have written, I am a stubborn foolish man. From the moment I watched your ship take leave from the shore, I knew that I had made a terrible mistake. You are the very force that has kept me alive all these years when otherwise I would have given myself up as a useless shell of a man. I am ashamed of how often I let you believe that I was indifferent to your affections and charms. Pearl, I have never been indifferent to you. I know now how lonely you were all those years here while I was away at sea and it tears at the very fabric of my heart. Perhaps I even suspected it would be so when I built this house for you, but I could not bear the thought of leaving you in town where you might meet some handsome gentlemen who would surely try and steal your heart from me. From the moment I set eyes on you, I felt that you were mine. I should have kept you with me always, but I feared for your safety on the ship and I feared you would grow to resent the months at sea. Without you, this house, this island, is a prison. I am going mad with need for you, Pearl.
Your devoted husband,
Abel
25 December 1863
My Dearest Pearl,
How is it that I have never told you how I came to call you Pearl? I am ashamed of how much of my heart I kept from you. Upon our first meeting, I thought that you must surely be a rare treasure from the sea, a pearl of a woman. You must know how foreign such thoughts were for me at that time, and I felt foolish immediately. I had encountered many beautiful women, some of whom even tried to garner my affections, though I was and am firmly convinced that they were more enamored of my pocketbook than they were of my charms given that I have no charms whatsoever. They were easily frightened off; I felt no crisis of conscience for my harsh treatment of those vain and foolish creatures. And then you came along and set me as off-kilter as a sudden and violent storm at sea. You were not so easily put off, Pearl, and for that I am eternally grateful. I miss you with a desperation that borders on madness, Pearl. Please come home to me soon.
A slave to your affections, I am
Abel
The letters were all of the same theme: Abel's loneliness and longing to tell Pearl all that was in his heart. With each one, Abel's sense of desperation became more and more apparent; Cameron wondered if he did eventually go insane. His words were like little stones tossed on the river of time, casting ripples that spanned the generations between them.
House glanced at Cameron briefly, an inscrutable look in those fathomless blue eyes of his, and then he turned to the last page.
14 February 1864
I have received a letter from John Abel today, and it may as well have been my own death notice. Pearl is gone, died at sea before ever making it to Scotland. She did not live to see 1864. John Abel will stay with his grandparents, and I will dig myself a grave for I am as good as dead without her.
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