MAES 14: Coming to an Understanding
AN: Jack’s and Sophie’s ‘understanding’ is another scene POB doesn’t actually write. We only learn of it from Stephen reading their letters. (I always thought if funny that Jack’s letter likens Sophie to a 32-pound gun) But what exactly happened? This is my take on the scene, which would probably have been one of the more romantic in the whole series, if POB had actually written it.
She was a reserved creature, living much in an inward dream whose nature she did not communicate to anyone. ..She spoke little, in company or out, but she was capable of a sudden dart of sharpness, of a remark that showed much more intelligence and reflection than would have been expected from her rudimentary education and her very quiet provincial life. These remarks had a much greater force, coming from an amiable, pliant, and as it were sleepy reserve, and before now they had startled men who did not know her well - men who had been prating away happily with the conscious superiority of their sex. They dimly grasped an underlying strength, and they connected it with her occasional expression of secret amusement, the relish of something that she did not choose to share.
- Post Captain, pg. 23, Norton Press paperback
Coming to an Understanding
The officers and men of the Lively were more than a little annoyed with their acting Captain. It seemed that all they’d been doing lately had been preparing their frigate for an admiral’s inspection. They all knew why they were doing it - many men had been on deck when Admiral Haddock came to request that Aubrey take two young women aboard as passengers, and it had taken no great amount of penetration to see that Aubrey was particularly fond of one of the two young women in question.
But there were limits, some said. And Captain Aubrey had surpassed what was necessary for even the most fault-finding Admiral.
At least, that was what they thought until the barge carrying the two young ladies was alongside the frigate. The taller of the two stepped aboard, looked about her at the ship’s company all turned out in best rig with an expression of amazement and exclaimed to the other young woman, “Oh, Cissy, have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your life?”
At that, the crew of the Lively tucked in their chins, puffed out their chests, and, to a man, graciously forgave their Captain his temporary insanity.
The Captain himself introduced the Miss Williams’s to the officers, and by the time the introductions were over, Sophie had made such an impression on them that more than one man thought the Captain might well have gone a little further in making everything perfect for her visit.
She was often invited to dine in the gunroom, which meant that the officers had to invite the captain, too. It would have been unthinkable to invite a young lady to dine with strange men without at least the presence of her betrothed.
But were they actually betrothed? The crew wondered. To be sure, Miss Williams could scarcely look at their captain without blushing like a rose, and the captain had been most attentive to her: not just in the article of making the ship suitable for her, but in his manner towards her after she came aboard. When she was within sight, he scarcely looked away; he often asked her how she was faring, whether there was anything she needed or anything he could do to make her stay more pleasant. (To the crew’s relief, she always insisted that there was not, and he must not trouble himself over her.)
And yet, she wore no ring. She seemed almost shy of him, and when they walked about the ship together, Aubrey rarely offered her his arm unless the seas were rough.
The reason for this was very simple. Jack was of course very fond of Sophie, and if only his estate were clear he would have eagerly asked her to marry him. Yet he knew he was not a marriageable man, and to even make the offer in his condition would be unthinkable. Jack’s notions of honor when it came to women were somewhat eclectic; they ranged from near-scandalous to near-worship, depending on the woman in question.
Jack had known from the moment he met Sophie that he could not treat her like any other woman he had previously been acquainted with. She was (clearly) not a loose woman, nor was she a married woman bored with her husband. Nor was she any other of those numerous sorts of females who might be described as ‘loose’ in any way. Not only was she perfectly virtuous, as lovely as anything Jack had ever seen, and appreciative of him, but she was also the only woman he had ever wanted to marry.
Matrimony had rarely entered Jack’s mind. After his own odd upbringing, domestic delights in all their myriad forms were a great mystery to him. He had seen happily married couples, unhappily married couples, and all the types between. As far as he had thought about it at all, he had supposed that it must take an uncommon woman indeed to make him give the matter any serious consideration.
And Sophie, he knew from their first meeting, was an uncommon woman.
How often had he regretted not asking her to marry him earlier, before news of his bankruptcy arrived! If they had been married when the news came, it would not have been at all shameful to use her dowry to pay his debts, for they would have been husband and wife, and everything they owned would be theirs. But asking an heiress to marry you when you were already deep in debt, even if it wasn’t your fault, was undeniably shameful. He could not bear the thought of anyone calling him a gold-digger. He also could not bear the thought that if he proposed under such circumstances, Sophie would always wonder if he had only wanted to marry her for her money.
Nothing could have been further from the truth. If anything, Jack had often wished during these last months that Sophie were just as poor as he was, for then there could be no obstacle to their union. They would have been poor, yes, but they would have been poor together.
But, no. As long as he was a pauper, he could not speak to her on this matter. To even discuss the topic would be to put in plain speech such feelings and desires that, since it was almost certain they could never be realized, were perhaps left unsaid, locked away in the most secret recesses of his heart, never to be spoken of to anyone.
And so Jack played the convivial host. He was unfailingly courteous, and tried to show the same care and concern for Cecilia as he did for Sophie. They were both his guests, and he must make no outward sign of favoritism. Yet he could not stop his eyes from following her, could not stop his heart pounding whenever she said his name, and could not help the startlingly vivid vision that sprang into his head when he saw her comforting young Randall over the death of his pet gibbon: A vision of Sophie holding a healthy baby, a baby with her lovely eyes and his own bright hair, with a wedding band on her finger.
But, it was useless, he told himself repeatedly. Heiresses can only marry paupers in children’s tales.
Fortunately for them both, Sophie saw the matter in a slightly different light.
0~0
Sophie had never dreamed she would ever be considering this. Her talks with Doctor Maturin had been most illuminating, and had given her more courage than she would have otherwise had. She knew Jack was a man of honor, therefore it made sense that he would not show his true feelings to her when he was unable to make her a real offer, being so poor. And according to dear Stephen, he did feel very strongly for her.
She had meant what she said when she’d told Stephen that she would never consider making a secret engagement, yet she had also meant it when she said she’d be perfectly willing to promise Jack that as long as he wanted her, she would always wait for him to be able to make an honorable offer of marriage.
She’d meant it too, when she had told Stephen about her firmly and finally putting down Mr. Bowles, and said that there was only one man in the world she could ever marry, and that she regretted letting the chance go by more than anything else.
It was eminently true that Jack was the only man she could ever marry. He, too, had often had the air of appreciating a private joke, and he had never seemed to be put out by her flashes of spirit. They were rare enough, in all conscience, yet she had known them to startle men before, and send her mother into long rants about the ‘proper way to speak to a gentleman.’ Yet there were times when a girl had to stand up for herself.
She could almost hear Stephen’s voice, saying “Where’s your courage, girl? Sure, it is the one thing in the world he admires. “ Her courage had not been shown often, yet she liked to think of herself as brave, if called upon to be so. And it would certainly be very wicked to go against one’s mother, no matter how bad she wished she could at times.
Yet, there might perhaps be a way to have what she wanted, without going directly against her mother. She feared her feelings for Jack had led her into dangerous waters as far as family loyalty and proper behavior were concerned, yet if a little courage on her part might help her fondest wish come true one day, perhaps this was a time where it was better to be brave.
0~0
The Saturday evening after Sophie had come aboard ship, the Lively was becalmed off the Isle of Wight. Cecilia was being shown the stars by good Mr. Driver of the marines, who seemed quite happy to have a young lady to play chaperone to.
Sophie was with a marine herself, the sentry which guarded the captain’s cabin door. Facing him boldly, she said “I should like to have a word with the captain, if I may.”
The man looked surprised. “But he’s alone, ma’am, and he asked not to be disturbed--“
“So much the better,” said Sophie. “I wish private conversation with him, and our business shouldn’t take long. Announce me please.”
Before the marine could reply, the door opened from the inside, and Jack appeared. Sophie had learned in her days aboard ship that bulkheads and walls were little proof against being overheard, but she was still surprised that he had heard her request entrance.
He looked at her gravely, and stood aside without a word to let her in. Her heart pounding, Sophie stepped passed the sentry and into the cabin. Unbidden, she took a seat on the locker bench in front of the window, trying to collect her thoughts, decide how she would begin.
“Might I offer you some Madeira?” asked Jack politely, playing the host.
“No, thank you,” said Sophie, just as politely, for although her throat was quite dry, she wished to have all her senses about her. Her thoughts were in a whirl, and without having consciously decided what she was going to say, she began, “You know that Doctor Maturin has been kind enough to visit me in your absence?”
“Yes.”
“Has he ever told you what we’ve discussed?” She hoped he would say yes; this would be so much easier if he could already guess the subject she wished to speak to him about.
“No, he only told me how you were doing. He mentioned once that you were low in your spirits because you had become subject to the unwelcome attentions of a moneyed parson.”
Sophie felt a flush of anger heat her cheeks. She half-regretted not running her scissors into Mr. Bowles at least once before she’d finally sent him on his way. She was about to remark on this to Jack when she noticed his bitter expression, and putting it together with what Stephen had told her, she thought she knew the reason why mention of another suitor should make him look like that, and flushed harder, though for another reason entirely.
That expression gave her the courage to speak that she had lacked, and she straightened her spine. “Yes, I was low in my spirits, as dear Stephen said. Do you know why?”
“I cannot say I do.”
“There were many reasons, but I suppose that chief among them is that all the time I was required to spend with that odious man, I wished that another were in his place.” She paused to swallow nervously, and made herself go on. “I kept thinking of a certain man whom I had met some time before, whom I almost immediately sensed to be a kindred spirit of sorts, whose amusement gave me much greater pleasure in life than I normally would have had. A man whose presence I never found intolerable, who was always kind and generous to me, even when I perhaps did not deserve it. If that man had been in place of Mr. Bowles, I should have blessed each minute I spent in his company.”
While she spoke, Jack had faced away from her, toward the door. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, fingers clasping each other so tight his skin was white in places. Sophie hoped he understood what she meant; so long as she didn’t speak plainly, rejection, if it came, would not be so bad.
“This man,” said Jack hoarsely, still not looking at her. “Do I know his name?”
“I believe you do, since you must see his face in the mirror every day,” Sophie said, softly, but not inaudible.
Jack released his breath in a shaky huff; his hands released each other, and crossed in front of his chest. She saw his head shake from side to side. “Sophie, you know that I am in no position to-“
“I know. Stephen explained to me why you felt you could not speak to me on this matter. I understand that Jack, truly. But,” she rose and, standing behind him, raised her hands to rest on his shoulders. “I would tell you now, my dear, that if you ever find yourself in a position to make me an honorable offer, one that my mother would have no reason to reject, I should gladly accept you. I have felt this way for a long time now, longer than even I knew. If I had not been so confused, so afraid that the only reason I was considering marriage with you was because I was being pushed towards you, and not because I truly loved you, I should have made my feelings plain sooner. I am sorry for being so muddle-headed, for if I had not been so afraid…” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Jack raised his left hand and placed it over hers, resting together on his right shoulder, above his post-captain’s epaulette. “If my estate were clear, I would propose to you this instant, dear Sophie. But I cannot. You know what the world thinks of a pauper who offers marriage to an heiress when he has nothing to offer. I will not have it said that I married you only for your money, nor would I want you to think that, even in the smallest degree.”
Sophie lowered her hands, and wrapped them around his broad torso, pressing herself against his back. If her mother could have seen her like this, she would have fallen down in a fit. But Sophie was not afraid; he had always been a big man, but she had never felt intimidated by him, and it felt wonderful to be holding all that solid strength and warmth within the circle of her arms. “Since you feel that way, my dear, might we make each other a promise?”
“A secret engagement, you mean? Surely-“
“No, dearest. Not a secret engagement. Merely a promise, that as long as we want each other, we shall never marry anyone else. I will wait however long I must for you to clear your estate, and surely you must. You are a skilled and able man, and I am sure that given time, you will be able to clear your debts and be able to ask for my hand properly. But if, in that time, you find another young woman whom you were free to marry, whom you would prefer to me, then please do so. I do not wish to bind you against your will in any way, and I know that feelings change.”
“Some feelings don’t change,” said Jack, and he turned in her arms, embracing her tightly. She felt as small as the child she had once been as he lifted her off her feet, and kissed her. His lips brushed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheek, and then her mouth in the briefest of touches. “As long as you want me, Sophie, I shall do whatever I must to marry you. But I, too, would not wish to bind you against your will. I know that there are many young men who could make you a better offer this instant, and there is no guarantee that I will ever be able to clear my debts. I should hate to think of you becoming an old maid, waiting for me.” He set her on her feet again.
“I should sooner be an old maid than marry anyone else in the world but you,” said Sophie fervently, and greatly daring, she raised her hands to hold his head still, and pressed her lips to his in a firmer kiss than the one he had given her. She had never touched her lips to another person’s, but the brief contact Jack had given her moments ago had sent the most delightful feelings through her whole body, and she wanted more.
His head jerked back in surprise, in spite of her grip, and she looked down hastily and blushed. She should have remembered it was improper behavior to kiss a man one was not even properly engaged to.
Jack laughed softly. “Might we try again? I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting that.”
Sophie swallowed, still looking at the floor. Her throat was quite dry again. “Would that not be very wicked?”
Though she was not looking at him, she knew he was smiling. “Depends on what kind of a kiss. Don’t worry; I can be a gentleman, if I need to be.” His arms folded her in closer; she thought she could feel his heart pounding, or was it only hers? He really was very tall: if she didn’t raise her head, she was going to end up with her nose squashed against his collarbone. She looked up in time to see his eyes close as he drew closer, raising his hand to the back of her head, while the other looped around her back.
He tasted of salt air, and slight traces of the dinner they had both eaten, and the most glorious half hour of her life. When she had stepped into this cabin, she had only the faintest idea of what she intended to do, and nothing at all of what would happen if she succeeded. If she had known Jack would wish to do this, she thought muzzily as his lips slid gently against hers, she might well have tried to have this conversation the hour she first came aboard.
Some time later - how long?- Jack withdrew from her with a slight sigh, setting her back from him. “Best to stop now. I think I’ve already done your honor enough damage for one evening.”
Until a few minutes ago, Sophie would have agreed that compromising a young lady’s honor was a wicked thing to do. Now, she just wanted him to kiss her again. She stepped forward and embraced him, resting her head against his chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. It seemed he was as affected as she. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt as safe with anyone as I do with you,” she confessed. Why she wanted to say that at this moment she didn’t know, but she did.
“And I don’t think I’ve ever felt as happy with any other woman as I have with you,” Jack said, bending his head to kiss her hair. “But then, no other woman I’ve known has loved me enough to wait for me, either.”
Sophie blushed, burying her face in his coat. She had never said the words aloud, but he knew how she felt about him. And she knew how he felt about her. For now, that was enough. Maybe, when Jack at last knelt before her with a ring, and made the offer that she would be overjoyed to accept, then they could both say it in so many words. For now, she only thought it, and felt it with all her heart.
I love you.