From Haven to Hell by Rebecca Diem

Author:Rebecca Diem
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Woolf Like Me Publishing

Chapter 7: In which our heroine hears a song of the past

Clara stormed up the staircase and down a hallway, furious with herself for rising to the Captain Duke’s provocation. How dare he presume to know her situation? How dare he demand her trust when he refused to reveal anything of his own history? And to infer, once again, that her reticence to delve into her past would endanger the crew. She had demonstrated her commitment and loyalty. She had saved them all from certain capture or casualty. Twice.

Training every morning with Nessa, sorting the accounts every afternoon with Trick, retiring every evening to the study to research a strategy for their scheme, Clara had never worked so hard or so happily in her life. She enjoyed the time spent together and she finally felt like a true member of the crew. To have him dismiss her hard work so casually—the very injustice of it stung.

Letting out a huff of frustration, Clara frowned as she reached the end of the hall. She looked upon the unfamiliar furnishings and realized she must have taken a wrong turn. She blamed the Captain for putting her in such a state as to become lost, another black mark on his reputation as far as she was concerned. She was turning about, trying to orient herself within the manor, when a faint melody caught her ear.

The sound was coming from a door on her left. Clara leaned against it, trying to determine its origin, and jumped back when the floorboard creaked under her weight. The melody stopped, and footsteps approached. She took a few steps back, embarrassed at being caught as an eavesdropper. But it was the smiling face of Trick who greeted her as he opened the door with a violin bow in one hand.

“Clara! How may I be of assistance?”

“My apologies, I did not mean to interrupt. I heard music.”

“Yes, of course. Please, come in. I keep quarters in this wing so as not to disturb the others, but a keen ear is always welcome here.”

Trick opened the door further and, to Clara’s joy, revealed a parlour room filled with instruments of every shape and size. A grand golden harp reigned over a sunny corner, while one wall held an array of guitars and stringed instruments that framed an upright piano. An old bookshelf held the brass and many folios of sheet music, with a number of drums stacked neatly beside it. Trick’s accordion held a place of honour on a small end table. The room was bright and well-appointed with comfortable furniture.

“Trick, it’s beautiful,” Clara said in awe. She took a few tentative steps into the room, amazed at the collection that surpassed any she had encountered or could ever have hoped to see. He beamed in appreciation and led her around the room to show his favourite pieces, pointing them out with his bow.

“I really ought to have invited you here earlier, only I never thought to do it.”

“How did you come by so many?”

“Oh I liberated a few here and there from undeserving souls, to be sure.

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