“But they are changing it,” said Maggie.
“Aye. To the Saint Andrew, which is also a fine name for a ship of Scotland, and on this day above all others.”
Maggie nodded her agreement, for she knew about the patron saint of Scotland, and she’d always liked the festive nature of his feast day. “I’m wearing my saltire today,” she told the captain, showing him the diagonal X-shaped Saint Andrew’s cross pinned to her plaid. “And so is Dolly, only hers is made of wire. Henry made it.”
Captain Gordon bent to give it his appraisal. “Henry’s very clever.”
Henry having just come up to join them, laughed. “Ye’d be alone in thinking that, but I will take the compliment.” He greeted Captain Gordon, who had noticed something else on Dolly.
With a smile, the captain said to Maggie, “Dolly has a new admirer, I perceive. Who gave her this?” He touched the second wire brooch, shaped like a heart, meant to be hidden underneath the doll’s blue cloak.
Conspiratorially, Henry leaned closer and told him, “That is a great mystery, we’re not meant to know.”
Maggie withered both men with a look, rearranging the doll’s cloak to cover the pin.
Gordon asked Henry, “You didn’t make that one?”
“No. Matthew did.”
Maggie said, “It’s like the one he gave to Lily.” Then, when she saw how that statement changed the faces on the adults standing round her, she looked up at Lily in dismay. “Did I do wrong? He said to not tell Archie, but…oh, Lily!” And her hand flew up to hide her mouth as if she wished to force the words back.
Lily’s own heart had just fallen sickly to her feet, but she told Maggie not to worry. “Captain Gordon is a friend, and Henry’s Matthew’s brother. They will keep the secret.” She looked at both the men and with her eyes alone implored them to be honorable.
“Aye,” the captain rushed to reassure the little girl, and crouched to Maggie’s level, his eyes kind. “There’s no harm done. But I would take care who I told that to in future. Small leaks,” he advised her, “sink great ships.” She nodded solemnly, and Gordon reached into his pocket. “I nearly forgot, I have a gift for you, and one I’ll wager even Mistress Aitcheson will not find fault with, for it cost me nothing.” Taking out a paper packet, he unwrapped two small, baked tarts. “My wife did bake too many of these,” he told Maggie, “so I said to her, I know a little lass who’ll gladly take these off our hands. The one is apple, and the other raisin.”
Maggie looked at him, round-eyed, and thanked him. “Could I save the raisin one for Matthew? He likes raisins.”
“Eat them both,” the captain told her. “I have plenty more that I can give to Matthew.”
Henry sent him a good-humored look. “Ye see which brother is her favorite, and it’s clearly not myself.”
Maggie didn’t seem to know if she should take him seriously, but she saw a way to turn his pouting to her own advantage. “Matthew does not let me ride upon his back like ye do,” she said hopefully.
The grin that Henry gave her was infectious. “Does he not?” He turned and bent and let her clamber on, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck, with Dolly safely tucked between them, he said, “Come then, my wee cadger’s creel, we’ll go and see what’s new along the pier the day.”
“He’ll make a wondrous father,” Captain Gordon said, as he and Lily stood and watched them go.
She had been thinking much the same thing, hoping Henry would be granted his own family one day, for it would be such a waste for someone of his patience and capacity for love to be unable to see it continued.
Captain Gordon said, “It’s rare to see a man of his age ready for the hearth and home. I can assure you I was not.”
“Ye seem well fond of children.” Lily knew her lack of trust in Captain Gordon’s motives when it came to Maggie put a faint edge to her tone, but it could not be helped.
He glanced at her. “Aye, but I did not begin my family until I was thirty. I was ready for it then.”
Lily realized, though his words might sound offhand, he was selecting them with purpose. It dawned on her that he was thinking of the heart-shaped brooch he had just learned about by accident, the one Matthew had given her, for Gordon would know what it meant. She looked at him more closely. “And ye think Matthew’s not ready?”
“I think Matthew is yet young.” He had the air of someone at a crossroads, trying to decide which turning he should choose. At length he said, “He does remind me of my brother. My half brother, if you’d know his true relation to me, for my father did beget him on a servant two years after my own mother’s death, so he was born into this life already at a disadvantage, as a bastard.”