The Stowaway

XXV

"The only life worth living is the adventurous life. Of such a life the dominant characteristic is that it is unafraid. It is unafraid of what other people think...It does not adapt either its pace or its objectives to the pace and objectives of its neighbors. It thinks its own thoughts, it reads its own books. It develops its own hobbies, and it is governed by its own conscience. The herd may graze where it pleases or stampede where it pleases, but he who lives the adventurous life will remain unafraid when he finds himself alone." Raymond B. Fosdick

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XXV.

Tom had never felt more free, or more afraid. To have divulged his deepest fears, his deepest insecurities to Eliza had been invigorating. However, as he had told Eliza, to put any part of himself in another's hands was terrifying.

But he had meant it when he had said that he trusted Eliza. He did sincerely trust her, and he could feel it in his bones that she would never betray him. Eliza had fire and conviction, and she loved fiercely. A part of him, a big part of him really, wanted to hear his own name in and amongst those of her family members whom she adored so much.

But a bigger part of him, the rational, logical part, knew that he was only setting himself up for failure and hurt, and the idea of feeling such pain again was frightening.

Mr Kerry had not given him the loan that he needed in order to start his own merchant business. Tom had no property, nothing of value, to offer to a bank as collateral. Without a loan he would never be more than he was now.

He would have to save for a decade before he could afford to buy a shingle on the type of house Eliza was used to, the type she deserved. He could never support her. He could barely support himself, and only had to sail as much as he did as he could not afford to live in England.

Her parents, as much as Eliza adored them, would slam the door in his face. Eliza had flippantly dismissed the gentleman that her parents had arranged for her in conversations they had had. But Tom knew they had much more than he had to offer.

Anything was more than nothing.

You are deserving of exactly the life that you want because you are enough, Eliza had told him. And she had meant it, too.

The life that Tom wanted had very rapidly appeared to him the minute he had released the hidden anger and hurt that he had kept inside from his mother's abandonment.

Tom was very quickly falling in love with her. Or perhaps he had been in love with her for a long while and was only now allowing himself to feel it.

Eliza was challenging, and incorrigible, hopeless and impulsive, but those things did not bother him at all. In fact, they only made her more attractive. Her beauty was not only in her fair, freckled face, but in her passion, her joy, and her effervescent spirit.

Eliza viewed the world with wonder. It was something that he wished he could learn.

The life that he wanted had Eliza in it. Permanently.

But was that the life that she deserved?

"We will be returning to England," Tom said quietly. "We should reach Plymouth in two months if the wind favours us." A bad wind could stretch the voyage to three months. Was it selfish and immature of him to hope for a bad wind? Yes, it was. Band winds caused dwindling supplies.

Eliza's blonde hair had dried in the hot sun, and it was impossibly curly, sticking out in all directions. She was playing with one of her ringlets, pulling it long before letting it spring back. His words had made her suddenly go quiet.