Amelia heard herself gasp. “Oh, I know you. You’re Daisy’s littlest girl, aren’t you?”
“Mrs. Fleming did say that you’d spent particular time with this one,” Captain Hunter said. “You seemed to believe dogs couldn’t come aboard ship. But I obtained particular permission for this one.”
Amelia could scarcely pay attention to his words.
“If you don’t want her, I’ll find her a home in Hong Kong. But I thought you might wish to start on her training during the voyage so that you could bring her to the office as soon as you arrived.”
She had not heard anything beyond if you don’t want her, a sentiment that seemed utterly absurd spoken aloud.
“If I don’t want her,” she repeated, aghast. “Do you take me for a monster?”
Amelia collapsed next to the pup, holding out one hand in hope and wonder.
The little dog lifted a nose and pushed against the palm of her hand, then stood and flopped against her side, allowing her to stroke puppy-soft fur.
“Hello, love,” she heard herself saying. “Are you a dog? Are you a dog?”
The dog gave no response except to close its eyes and lean into her hand.
She really ought to respond to her own queries. It was just good manners. “Yes, you’re a dog. You’re a little puppy, aren’t you?”
“So,” she heard Captain Hunter say as if from a great distance, “I take it you want the dog?”
“Yes, you’re my dog,” she told the puppy.
“That was a rhetorical question. I had dogs as a child; ask me if you have questions about training.”
There was no point talking to Captain Hunter anymore, not when there was a dog—her dog!—present.
“I’m going to call you Miranda,” she said. “But if you were Miranda, how would I shorten the name?” After another moment: “Merry for short, I think. That’s a good name for a very good dog. Miss Merry, for Miranda Mei, I think.”
“Mei?”
She finally decided to look up from her dog and acknowledge Captain Hunter’s presence. “Mei. It’s a Chinese name. It seemed appropriate.” Amelia frowned. “I think I’ll use the character that means…” She looked around. “Sunny weather, but sometimes also clarity. That’s what you are, my Merry Mei. No clouds. Sunshine all the way.” She leaned down and received a gentle lick on her nose. “Thank you, Captain Hunter.”
“Well.” Captain Hunter sounded amused. “You’re very welcome, Mrs. Smith.”
Amelia scarcely heard him leave. “I will have to teach you your name in telegraphic code. You’re a smart pup. You’ll learn swiftly.”
Chapter Ten
Grayson had stepped away from Mrs. Smith for a while. He watched the other seamen on board fetch a few cuts of cheese from the galley and a bit of rope for Merry to tussle with. One of them sat with her and showed her how to hold the treat to get her puppy to sit, a thing Merry figured out instantly once cheese was on the line.
Grayson had needed something like a respite. He didn’t have the words for how he’d felt after their prior conversation. Her questions—what was it like to kiss someone, how do you stop thinking about someone who is absent?—had brought more emotion to the surface of his life than he preferred.
It was a relief to have her attention fixed elsewhere. To be able to concentrate on straightforward matters like the list of things he must finish in order to stay abreast of the ever-present schedule in his head.
But even that could only distract him so much. Her laugh, pure and unguarded, as she watched Merry wrestle with a blanket, filtered to him over half the ship. It was a good thing he was going to leave Shanghai shortly after he deposited her there.
The waves grew rougher as they made their way out through the islands into the South China Sea. It wasn’t until the men started laying out mats that Grayson realized he needed to interrupt her again.
He made his way back to her side. The puppy was sprawled on her back on a blanket, legs pointing in four directions. Amelia was watching her with a soft light in her eyes.
“You may want to put Merry in your cabin for a short space of time.”
“By herself?”
“She’s sleeping,” Grayson said. “The cabin is small and dark, rather like a cave. It’s a very cozy environment for a young pup. But the deck is about to get busy, and I wouldn’t want her underfoot for what is to come.”
Amelia looked up, blinking, to see the sailors on deck bringing out a chest filled with mats. They started removing them, arranging them on the deck.
“What is happening?”
“Put her away and you’ll see when you get back.”
By the time Amelia returned, the mats had been fully set up in the center of the blue ring painted on the deck. Zed had come to stand by Grayson, and Amelia, after a hesitant look around the crew, had come to stand next to them. She glanced at him, then at his cousin, then back at him.
“Captain Hunter.” She nodded. “Captain Hunter.”
Grayson thought about what she’d said about both her late and potential husbands being named Alden and suppressed a grin.
“What’s happening?”
Zed took this one on. “Ah. It’s the Daily Disoccupation.”
And about time. Grayson had been in an odd, melancholic humor all afternoon. He needed something to dissipate it.
“What is that?”
“Tradition,” Zed said. “It’s usually at three in the afternoon. We’ve a late start this evening. As many crew members as can safely do so join in, and we rotate the schedule so everyone gets a turn. It’s a time to set down burdens and to bring grievances to the group as a whole. Inside the blue line during the Disoccupation, the typical rules regarding the chain of command cease to apply.”
Her nose wrinkled. “That’s a lot of words. None of them explain what’s happening.”
“It’s a distraction,” Gray said.
“Enh.” Zed made a face. “It’s rather more than that. Every ship in Lord Traders does it, but the captain picks the method. On board the Lenity…” Zed nudged Grayson. “It’s wrestling, of course.”
“Heap of miscreants that you are,” Grayson intoned.
Zed just grinned. “You’re going to be part of Lord Traders too, Mrs. Smith, so you should understand. We try to do things differently. For me, tea season is always difficult. We’re in nonstop motion, scarcely in harbor for longer than a few days on either end. During that time, I’m always in charge. Always. As captain, I must be.”
She nodded. “Of course.”
“However, sometimes that means that I miss things. Someone hurts their shoulder and doesn’t ask for help because they don’t want to be seen as weak. The Daily Disoccupation is a way for us to drop boundaries and be honest with each other.” Zed winked at Amelia. “And also to have a little fun.”
“As I said,” Grayson replied. “A distraction.” And one he desperately needed.
While they’d been speaking, the number of people on deck had grown. The sun had sunk lower in the sky. Land was still visible, a dark line on the horizon limned by orange. But Zed’s men were on deck, clapping and calling out.