The Black Lung Captain - Chris Wooding [70]
The quarters he shared with Harkins were narrow, cluttered, and dirty. He had the top bunk, due to Harkins’s unfortunate tendency to spasm out of bed several times a night. A square vent high up on one wall let in cool air from outside, wafting away the stench of unwashed bedding. There was a small storage cupboard crammed with their meager possessions, but space for little else. The Ketty Jay wasn’t built for luxury.
Pinn had lain there for hours now, trying to make sense of things. He didn’t know what this empty, listless sensation was, but he didn’t like it much. He didn’t want to get up. Didn’t want to sleep. Didn’t want to do anything, actually. The thought of flying his Skylance failed to excite him. Even the prospect of booze had lost its charm, and he’d often said that when that day came, he’d eat a bullet. But he didn’t feel much like shooting himself either.
Lisinda, he thought. My sweetheart is marrying another man.
Was it even possible? He wasn’t sure. After all, she’d said she loved him. Hadn’t that meant anything to her? It had certainly meant something to him. It had inspired him to be a hero. It made him want to be a better man. It even made him want to stop cheating on her, although the gap between the desire and the reality was vast indeed.
How could she do it?
A sudden thought struck him, which hadn’t occurred until now, even after hours of contemplation. If she was marrying another man, that must mean she’d been fooling around with him for at least a couple of months. Maybe longer. A flood of rage swept through him, and he gritted his teeth. How he’d like to get his hands round that other bloke’s throat! Messing with another man’s woman! Didn’t he know she was taken? She’d already made her choice. Hadn’t she said she loved him?
But killing her husband-to-be would surely make Lisinda a bit sad. He’d never do anything to make her cry, and yet honor demanded he stamp his rival’s face into the ground. How to solve a problem like that? It was all very confusing. He wished he had half the Cap’n’s brains. The Cap’n would have known what to do.
No matter how he turned it over in his head, he couldn’t conceive of how Lisinda would want to marry anyone else. It just wasn’t possible. She must be an innocent victim in all this somehow. Her heart had been swayed by some sleazy charmer from out of town. Women couldn’t help themselves sometimes, that was a fact. She couldn’t be blamed. She was powerless to resist his influence.
Or maybe she was being forced into it. Yes, that was it! She’d said in her letter that she was very happy, but that clearly couldn’t be true. Not when her heart was with her absent hero.
His blood boiled at the thought. His Lisinda, married off to some scheming aristocrat three times her age! The kind of man who coveted her beauty because he was too old to win her by fair means. He’d bought her like an ornament to wear on his arm, no doubt.
What if she’d been kidnapped? What if the letter was her coded cry for help? She must have known he’d never believe she would leave him. It was too ridiculous. Had her kidnapper allowed her to send this letter, thinking it innocent? Had she cleverly concealed a message within the message?
He pulled the letter out from under his pillow and began frantically scanning it, searching for codes or clues. Halfway through, he froze as another possibility occurred to him.
Could it be that this was all a plan by some love rival? Perhaps the rival had written the letter, hoping that Pinn would come racing home prematurely. Then Lisinda would see that he hadn’t yet become the strong, honorable, and, most importantly, rich man he’d promised he’d be. She’d turn away from him then, disappointed. Right into the arms of another.
He studied the letter furiously, searching for signs of forgery. What did Lisinda’s handwriting look like, anyway? She’d never written him a letter before. Neither of them was much for reading or writing. Eventually he gave up. He’d never recognize a forgery if he didn’t know the genuine article.
It all made his head hurt.