Wings of the Morning

  Wings of the Morning,

  Kensington Chronicles #2

  Lori Wick

  During the nineteenth century, the palace at Kensington represented

  the noble heritage of Britain's young queen and the simple

  elegance of a never-to-be-forgotten era. The Victorian Age was the

  pinnacle of England's dreams, a time of sweeping adventure and

  gentle love. It is during this time, when hope was bright with

  promise, that this series is set.

  8 maine coastline

  1828

  the two little boys ran up the sandy beach, fiercely

  brandishing their sticks as swords. As the older boy at the rear

  drew close, the smaller boy dashed up into the rocks to

  escape. He turned and shouted to his brother from his lofty

  position.

  "It's my turn to be Clancy for a while. You can be the

  pirate."

  "No, I'm bigger, and that makes me a better Clancy."

  "But you're always Clancy," the younger boy complained.

  "That's because he always wins," his brother told him

  logically.

  The younger boy flopped down on the rock, his "sword"

  lying forgotten at his side. His brother climbed up to join him,

  their gazes stretching out over the Atlantic Ocean.

  "Do you suppose Clancy really did all those things we

  hear about, the races and stashing the ship's hold with gold

  and jewels?"

  "Of course," the older boy spoke with assurance, although

  he had no proof. "He was the best sailor in all the world."

  "His ship," the younger lad had caught the fever now.

  9"Please tell me about his ship."

  The older boy's chest swelled "None faster in all the

  Atlantic. Why, his ship was the fastest ship in all the world."

  The younger boy let out a gusty sigh, as his gaze went to the

  sea once again.

  "Do you suppose he's still alive?"

  "Alive? Don't be ridiculous," his brother scoffed "Why,

  he'd probably be over a hundred years old if he were alive

  today!"

  The younger boy looked so crestfallen, the older boy took

  pity on him.

  "It doesn't matter. We know he was the greatest sailor to

  ever live. It's enough to know that he was born and raised in

  Maine and that there will never be another Clancy..."

  "What's this, Papa?" the tiny moppet in the tub asked her

  attentive father.

  He tickled her tummy before answering. "Why, that's your

  navel, Smokey."

  The small three-year-old giggled and stood, dripping wet,

  to leave the tub. Her father, Clancy Simmons, was waiting

  with a piece of toweling. He wrapped her snugly and took the

  chair by the stove in his cabin, placing Smokey in his lap to

  keep her warm.

  "I have five toes, Papa," she told him proudly, as she

  examined the foot that protruded from the edge of the towel.

  "You forgot a foot," Clancy told her. "You have ten toes."

  qr t"Po you have ten toes?" Smokey wanted to know. Her

  ***i;smokey gray eyes stared with rapt attention into his

  fc*4face.

  ped, I do. It's how God made all of us."

  Bitted away, and within minutes Smokey was in her

  d back in her father's lap. The warmth of the

  sntle rocking of the ship lulled her to sleep just

  moments later. Clancy was standing over her bunk, watching

  her still form, when his first mate, Darsey, joined him.

  Darsey stood quietly watching the bent, graying head of

  his captain and wondered at his thoughts.

  "It's hard to believe she'll be four this summer," Clancy

  spoke softly.

  "Aye, Captain," Darsey agreed. "My sister says they grow

  up before your eyes, but that it happens so fast you still feel as

  though it's been a magician's trick."

  "Vicky would have loved her to distraction," Clancy went

  on softly. His mate had no reply.

  "Well, now," Clancy spoke bracingly after a short pause,

  obviously needing to pull his mind away from painful times.

  "Here I am getting all soppy and putting Smokey in a wedding

  dress when she's barely out of wet drawers. I've got my God,

  my ship, my men, and years to enjoy my daughter. I would ask

  for nothing more..."

  * * *

  "I'm not asking you, Smokey; I'm telling you. Mr. Tucker is joining us this voyage, and you are going to study with him."

  "I don't need this Mr. Tucker. I like studying with Darsey."

  Her small arms were folded across her thin chest, and her

  small chin was tilted aggressively.

  "You're eight years old, Smokey--" Clancy's voice was

  gentle, "long past the time you should know how to read and

  cipher. You've got Darsey wrapped around your finger, and

  whenever you don't feel the need to study, you talk your way

  out of it. It will be different with Mr. TUcker."

  Smokey made no reply, and Clancy sternly held her eyes

  with his own. He expected her to yield at any time and

  admit that she needed training, but if anything her chin

  rose yet again, and Clancy knew that stern measures were

  needed.

  "You'll not set foot in the galley, climb on the rigging, or

  10

  11

  spend more than two hours on deck each day until you can

  read two pages to me from a book."

  All arrogance deserted Smokey, and her small shoulders

  drooped. Darsey had joined them to speak to the captain, but

  stayed silent when he heard Clancy's ultimatum.

  "Do you mean that?" Smokey asked, her voice small.

  "I'm afraid I do," Clancy's voice was kind "Your schooling

  is important, and I love you too much to ignore it."

  "All right," Smokey spoke after just a moment, her chin

  tilted once again, this time with determination. "I'll study

  with Mr. Ibcker. I'll learn to read and write and do my numbers.

  You just see if I don't!"

  Both men watched her walk away, one with admiration

  and one consumed with worry.

  "Doesn't it bother you, Captain," Darsey asked, "that with

  Smokey you don't take her toys away, but instead forbid her to

  climb in the rigging?"

  Clancy laughed and clapped the younger man on the back.

  "Darsey, you're a young man, much too young to be such a

  worrier. She's never cared for dolls. And as you can see, my

  words did the trick. She'll learn to read, and that's what I

  wanted"

  Clancy, well satisfied with the passage of events, went on

  his way. Darsey, wanting to trust his legendary captain, continued

  with his work...

  * * *

  frS^Z^"*'**"**'01* '*

  pounds SXtrConW --"* SJ8hed

  Dreading this old journal, the onelpicked up in the

  l^^7ere1inportPeoPlethinky u'realegend1'

  KudM ;? contems of h* daughter's hands wuiea the pages.

  "Smokey," he began after a moment of silence, hoping

  none of his men would need him just now, "people love to

  create heroes an
d worship the legends of their own imaginations.

  They also love to exaggerate," he added softly.

  "What do you mean?" Smokey's sweet, ten-year-old face

  studied her father intently.

  "I mean that the escapades IVe pulled have been stretched

  until they are of monumental proportions. Why, to do all of the

  things they claim Clancy has done, I'd have to be 200 years

  old."

  "But you have done some great things, haven't you?"

  "Yes, I have," he admitted honestly. "I've always sailed fast

  ships, and in my younger days I would never pass up a wager

  or a dare. My father taught me well, and I've sailed into port

  more than once with a holdful of valuables, sometimes worth

  a small fortune. But there was no magic in it. I work hard, and

  I'm a man who keeps my word Put simply, the merchants trust

  me. I deliver, and quickly I might add When something special

  comes their way, they send word to me.

  "And don't forget that I was named after my father. He was

  a sailor too, not as foolhardy as I've been at times, but a sailor

  nevertheless. The name Clancy has been on the seas far

  longer than my 60 years."

  Smokey stared at her father as though seeing him for the

  first time. The look did not please the older man.

  "I'm still your father, Smokey." Clancy spoke with his heart

  in his eyes. "I'm still the man who loves you to distraction. I've

  never wanted to be a hero or a legend to you, just a good

  father, bringing you up God's way."

  Smokey moved from her chair then, her young arms going

  around his neck. They embraced, and the young girl's anxious

  thoughts melted away. It mattered not what they said about

  him, truth or fiction. He was the most wonderful father a girl

  could have. His words had eliminated all doubts and fears.

  12

  "I'm afraid, Papa," Smokey cried from her bunk as the

  waves tossed their craft as though it were a toy, high and low

  over the sea.

  "There's nothing to fear, Smokey," the older man's face

  was calm as he sat on the edge of her bunk and took her in his

  arms. "You were only nine when you trusted Christ to save you

  from your sins, and now you must trust Him again in this

  storm. If our ship is going down, then it's His time."

  A moment passed, and Smokey began to pray out loud as

  she had done so many times before. When she finished talking

  to the Lord, Clancy added his own prayers with quiet confidence.

  When he had finished, he waited for the question. She

  asked it every time there was a storm, and Gancy could never

  deny her.

  "Will you tell me about Mama?"

  "She loved you," Clancy told her without preamble. "And

  she wanted you for years. We weren't married until I was

  nearly 40, and she thought she'd always be a spinster schoolarm,

  without a husband or children of her own."

  "But you came along," Smokey prodded him.

  "That's right, and it was love at first sight. She gave notice

  to the school board, and we were married that summer. We

  both assumed we would have children right away, but it wasn't

  to be. We waited years, and had actually given up. Then God

  gifted us with you."

  "And you named me after Mama."

  "That's right. She didn't want it, but I love the name

  Victoria, so she gave in."

  Then she died," Smokey added on a soft, somber note.

  "Yes. It was God's time, and I know she's with Him,"

  ocy's voice was equally quiet. "She wasn't a young woman,

  fr body just seemed so worn out after the birth. She had

  (erly aunt and a sister who offered to take you, but I

  ft leave you. I knew your place was with me. If only

  feer could see you now. Twelve years old." Clancy

  e until that moment that she'd finally fallen

  13

  asleep. The storm still raged without, but Smokey was now in

  dreamland.

  Clancy rose, balancing himself with the ease of an experienced

  sailor and repeated softly to himself once again, "If

  only she could see you now..."

  * * *

  "When can I see her?"

  "Be patient. You're supposed to have developed some

  patience at your age."

  "You make me sound ancient."

  "Sixteen," Clancy stated with a twinkle in his eye. "Most

  girls are married and raising a family at your age."

  "I'd be all for that, if he wanted to live aboard ship."

  Clancy laughed, but Smokey didn't hear him. She'd finally

  spotted the other ship, and Clancy stood back and watched

  the look of delight on her face.

  "Oh, Papa," she breathed in soft reverence as she gazed at

  the neat, sparkling ship floating opposite them. "She's beautiful.

  What's her name?"

  "TheAmmfc."

  "Are you really going to buy her?" Smokey had yet to look

  at her father as she talked

  "I already have."

  These words were enough to bring Smokey's head around

  She gave a whoop of delight over the look on his face. Her arms

  came around him for a quick hug before she dashed to the

  railing for a better look at their new ship. Darsey was already

  there.

  "Isn't she something, Darsey? I'm going to sail her someday."

  Darsey ruffled her dark cap of curls with real affection. "A

  little thing like you? Why, you can't even see over the wheel,"

  he teased her.

  19

  'Just you wait/' Smokey teased right back. "I'll be tall

  enough--someday I'll be a regular giant..."

  * * *

  "You said I'd be taller," Smokey good-naturedly told her

  father the morning of her eighteenth birthday.

  Clancy smiled and kissed her brow. "Happy birthday,

  Smokey."

  Smokey smiled in return, and Clancy studied her for a

  moment.

  "You're not really bothered by your size, are you?"

  Smokey shrugged. "Sometimes. I don't really care to look

  like a little girl my whole life."

  Clancy slowly shook his head. His eyes took in the huge

  gray eyes in a heart-shaped face, the mass of shining black

  waves that fell from her head, and her slim form, knowing how

  shapely it was beneath her baggy, practical garments.

  "You might not be very big, but you don't look like a little

  girl. If you don't believe me, ask Russell."

  Smokey grinned. Russell was the son of another sea captain.

  He was two years younger than Smokey and quite in love

  with her. She had no interest in him beyond that of a friend,

  but it was nice to be reminded that she was attractive in

  someone's eyes, even if she never dressed in a feminine way.

  Dresses and skirts were simply not sensible aboard ship,

  and there were times when Smokey didn't feel the least bit like

  a woman. Of course, to give up the boy's garb would mean to 0tve up her jobs aboard ship--no climbing the rigging, no

  dtefictag on deck with Darsey, and no helping when coming

  ''port or casting off.

  a surprise gift for you." Clancy cut into Smokey's

  I thoughts, and she glanced around the room.

  te br />
  * Clancy spoke as he led the way out of the room.

  ^topped by the wheel. He turned and looked

  15

  expectantly at his daughter, but Smokey saw nothing out of

  the ordinary. The only thing on deck that wasn't normally

  there was a wooden box, about 18 inches high and sitting right

  in front of the wheel. Smokey put a foot out to touch it.

  "It won't shift. I had Darsey nail it down," her father said

  "Why?"

  "Because that's your birthday present."

  Smokey could only stare at him and then at the box. When

  she raised her eyes once again, Clancy continued

  "If you're going to captain this ship on our next voyage,

  you have to be able to see over the wheel."

  "I'm going to captain?" Smokey asked, not quite able to believe

  her ears.

  "That's right. I've word that there's a load of perfect wool

  to be had in Australia. If you want it, you'll have to go after

  it."

  "And you?"

  "I'll serve as mate and take orders with everyone else."

  Smokey's grin nearly split her face. She rose on tiptoe and

  kissed his cheek before turning to speak to "her" men.

  "Lay up stores," she told them. "We're headed out, and it'll

  be a long time before we're home..."

  * * *

  "Do you ever wish we could stay here longer, Smokey? I

  mean live here and have a real home?"

  Smokey stared at her father across their small parlor in

  disbelief. He was 70 now, but had changed little. Smokey never

  thought of him as old

  "I've never known anything but the sea, Papa, I realize 20 is not very old, but we've never really tried to make this a

  home, and I much prefer my cabin on the Aramis to my room

  in this house."

  "You're sure?"

  "I'm sure," she told him with a loving smile.

  20

  "What about after I'm gone?" Gancy went on, surprising

  her again.

  Realizing how little they'd spoken of this, Smokey hesitated

  "Well, I don't expect to have to face that for a good 20

  years, so I guess I won't worry about it now."

  Clancy nodded and watched as his lovely daughter went

  back to her writing.

  She's never had anyone but me and the crew, he thought

  to himself as he studied her bent head I'll have to bring it up

  again sometime. We can't pretend I'll be here forever. And

  when I go, then what will she do?...

  "What will I do, Darsey?" Smokey asked, as her father's

  carefully wrapped body was lowered into the Atlantic waves

  on August 16,1848.

  "He was 73, and had a wonderful, full life, but I've had him