Kaitlyn's Captain

     He danced with more of the young ladies than any other gentleman present, but fended off offers of second dances. He was quite the topic of conversation. Several men standing with my father spoke of him and his place as a favorite of the King. Another gentleman added that he’d heard he’d been dismissed from the Royal Navy, yet another remarked about rumors of great land holdings near London. This last bit of information sent several of the fathers off in search of their daughters, in hopes of garnering the Captain’s attention. I almost felt sorry for him.
     The mothers were worse. Women finding my mother’s company shared information they’d gathered from their husbands. Some of them created vivid tales of the way the Captain looked upon their own daughters as he danced with them. Not a few of them mentioning their own observations of the man. He had entranced the lot of them. Indeed I was beginning to feel some pangs of guilt for the trap that had been set for him.
      I moved to the portico, having lost sight of the object of so much attention, content to find a moment’s peace in the balmy air of the mid October evening. Gazing out towards the Bridgetown wharf, watching the lights twinkling on the ships at harbor and tied to the quay, my thoughts wandered to what it must be like, completely free to go anywhere, anytime, wondering what lay beyond our safe harbor. But in the back of my mind I could think only of him. How many ladies did he know? What had brought him here? Where would his ship take him next? Which ship was his?
     The last I must have said aloud, for into my field of vision rose an arm, the hand pointing towards the quay, a voice almost whispering close to my ear, “That one, last on the westward quay. She’s a fine ship.”
     For a moment I froze, not sure what to do, wondering just how much of my thoughts I had actually vocalized. I turned slowly and found Captain Wilson standing directly behind me. I must have looked startled, for he stepped back quickly, begging my pardon. I could not find words. I swallowed hard and raised my chin for what seemed to be an eternity till our eyes met again. There was a moment I will never forget as long as I live. His eyes telling so much about him, as if I’d opened the cover of a book. The story, one I recognized as my own, it was as if we’d known each other a lifetime. Say what you will about love at first sight but I know of no other word to describe it. His lips curled in that same gentle smile from earlier and he offered his arm, asking for the next dance. 
     We danced that dance and every other one after that. It was as if we were the only ones in the room. I became oblivious to every other person present. I only felt the music as it moved me, in his gentle grasp. We talked through the dances; we talked when there was no music, we continued even as the musicians were packing up to leave. We were not strangers; we were kindred souls who’d missed each other’s company for too long a time.

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