Chapter 51: Fancy Dress Part 1

The lounge was crowded as usual, but Cal claimed the corner table and pulled out her sketchbook. It had been far too long since she had put pencil to paper.
Her fingers hadn't forgotten their skill. She put the patrons on paper. The older gentlemen drinking whisky and playing cards. A woman Cal guessed to be Crysabel's mother, looking around with a faint frown. The servers dancing between tables placing a drink there, a plate there. They all wore smiles, real ones, as Meireka had said.
Pentam and Crysabel came in and sat, leaning toward each other as they talked. Cal's pencil flew across the paper. Her art never lied. Cal looked at the finished drawing and wiped tears from her eyes. She should be happy for him. She was happy for him, but damn, it still hurt. Sir Shillingsworth walked into the lounge with the aid of a cane. Cal picked up the pencil again. Pentam waved him over and introduced him to Crysabel. Her father greeted them, and at their urging sat with them.
He looked unerringly across the room at Cal. She shook her head slightly. He lifted a shoulder a miniscule amount. Cal couldn't remember how they came to communicate so much with so little. She kept drawing, turning page after page. Capturing the angle of a face, the depth of a glance. Crysabel's hand reaching then pulling back.
Baroness Dimant saw her daughter and came over to haul her away, back to a table of people all the mother's age. Pentam looked bereft. Cal sketched his sorrow, how everything in his being yearned in one direction.
It was no longer toward Cal. She told herself it was a good thing. All part of her plan to save Pentam from himself. Cal put the sketchbook away. She picked up her satchel and sauntered over to Pentam.
"Hello, Pentam."
"Oh, hi." He turned away, then flushed red. "I'm a terrible person."
"Let's take some air on the terrace." Cal pulled him away from the table, catching a glimpse of Crysabel staring forlornly at them before turning back to her mother.
The terrace sat mostly in shade in the evening. Cal walked to the stone rail and leaned on it, so much like a ship's rail. Pentam stood beside her.
"Cal, I..." He stopped and looked down.
"Pentam." Cal took a deep breath and plunged in. "I love you, really. I always will. But I think you fell in love with me because I was the only woman on the ship you could protect. It wasn't really me, but your idea of who I was. This doesn't mean you don't love me, it means you need to love someone who wants adventure, and needs you to make them feel safe."
Cal handed him the sketchbook. Pentam took it, a frown on his face and flipped through, seeing the patrons, the servers. Stopping at the page which showed a man and a woman so clearly in love to anyone with eyes to see. He ran a finger across the page.
"You knew.

"Of course I knew," Cal said, then quieted her voice. "As soon as I met her, I saw she'd be perfect for you."
"And you told her to look me up, knowing I would..." Pentam's fists clenched.
"Not knowing, hoping. You deserve to be happy. You said it yourself, you were a coward around me. The whole trip, you worried about me, tried to protect me, keep me safe. I'll always treasure that. I'll always be your friend. Always. But I'll never be your wife." Cal turned away to look blurry-eyed at the harbour. "Get to know her, you already love her. Give her the adventure she craves, and keep her safe. I'd thought about traveling home with Father, making sure he made it safely, then returning with the parts for the Peregrine. I couldn't bring myself to watch you fall in love with someone else, as much as I need you to."
"But what about you?" Pentam sounded like he was choking. "You need love too."
"I'll find it someday. Someone who can love an Engineer First Class, who can stand to watch me do things which are mad, dangerous things, but nonetheless, need to be done. Until then, I have the Peregrine."
"You're leaving me for an engine?" Pentam's voice squeaked, then he started laughing until Cal joined him. They stopped, gasping for breath, face to face. He caressed her cheek. "Thank you, Cal. For everything. Be sure to visit whenever you're in the city." He walked away and didn't look back.
***
Cal walked into the hotel room to find Crysabel weeping on her bed.
"I should have known; he loves you so much."
"Crys, listen to me." Cal sat down on the bed and stroked the girl's back. "He does love me, and I love him, but I told you, that isn't enough. I informed him tonight I will never be his wife."
Crysabel sat bolt upright in bed and stared at Cal.
"You...set him free?" She threw her arms around Cal and held her. "Are you all right?"
Cal laughed and hugged Crysabel.
"I am. I know you'll make him deliriously happy. You are a kind, gentle soul. Exactly what he needs, and he will take you to see the world and be strong for you."
"And you stay with your ship?"
"For now." Cal let go of her friend. "I have something for you."
"You found a uniform?"
"Better."
Cal reached under the bed and pulled out the bundle with the gown and gloves and handed it to Crysabel.
The girl unwrapped it, then held it up.
"This is the dress you told me about."
"The dress which taught me I could be a lady and an engineer. I didn't have to choose."
"What do you think it will teach me?"
"You won't know until you wear to the ball."