by Daria Wright
“What did you say your name was?” he asked obviously trying to turn the conversation around. “I didn't,” I replied turning to face him. My embarrassment was still apparent on my face, though I was trying to maintain both my confidence and dignity. “Ah, a tough one hey. I'm not always so generous so you should show some gratitude. If you plan to keep riding with me, you'll make small talk,” he demanded.
“My name is Lucy Teagan. I appreciate your generosity, sir, a woman can never be too careful though,” I answered. “Right you are. No need to worry, an old fool like me wouldn't take advantage of a woman. Especially a strange one like yourself. Ha ha, my name is Emit.”
Disgust played on my face. Especially a strange one like yourself. His words echoed in my mind. Was it a compliment or an insult? I couldn't decide. It didn't matter, as the wagon hit its eighteenth bump in the road. My butt began to ache from the uncomfortable bench I was sitting on, and my stomach was frantically turning over from the lack of fresh air.
“Do you come this way often?” I asked as it was now my turn to make conversation. “I do trade here and there, run a farm, I trap wild game to sell their furs. I tend to do an assortment of things and thus travel around here a lot,” I frowned. The taking of innocent animal life didn't sit well with me. Nevertheless, I said nothing about my dislike. “Is it going to take us very long to reach Victoria?” I asked. “In a hurry?” he joked. In a hurry to get away from you. I thought. “Um...I'm curious.” I answered. “It won't take us too much longer. Maybe another seventeen or so hours.”
I groaned. My displeasure was written all over my face. “Are you displeased with my company?” he asked. “It’s not that, I just don't usually ride in a wagon drawn by horses. I'm afraid I'm getting a bit ill,” I complained. “Oh, then you're a poor one. You may lie down on the hay in the back if you think it would help,” he offered. “Maybe it would,” I said, glad for the chance to be free of him. I climbed from the hard bench back into the hay and settled in it. I heard his croaking old voice sing off key to a song I was not familiar with. That and the annoying rocking wagon were my only comforts, as I surrender to sleep.
Sometime later, I was woken up by Emit. “Welcome to Victoria!” he exclaimed holding out his hand to me. I stiffly got up and took his wrinkled hand. I jumped from the wagon. My eyes were instantly captivated by the romance of the city. It was truly magnificent with unspeakable beauty. I felt like I had stepped into a painting.
Huge stone buildings lined the cobble stone streets. The city was enchanting, with the catholic steeples in the distance and intricate sculptures etched into some of the buildings. There were businesses galore and despite all this, the city felt open and inviting.
I thanked Emit and bid him a farewell. I walked down the enchanting cobble stone streets, until I found a quaint little dress shop. I hadn't a penny on me but I decided it wouldn't be a bad idea if I bargained with the shop keeper.
I walked inside and heard the chime of a door bell as I stepped onto the wooden floor. I saw a woman doing some kind of needle work on the hem of a dress and a tailor that was measuring someone in the back of the shop. There was a young boy attending as the cashier.
“Excuse me. I said to him, “I'm looking for the owner of this shop.” The boy looked me up and then down. He had stringy red hair and couldn't have been more than fifteen. “Mr. Frederick does not like to be disturbed,” he stated flatly. “Aw, c'mon I'll make it worth the trouble.” I lightly touched the boy's arm for three seconds. His face became the color of tomatoes and reluctantly, he told me to wait here. The boy turned from the counter and raced toward the back of the shop. He disappeared inside a hidden room. The tailor stared at me as if he had heard every word.
Moments later, a tall, thin man, wearing a top hat appeared. The red haired cashier boy was trailing along beside him. They walked up to me and Mr. top hat introduced himself as, “Morgan Frederick, the shop owner.” I curtsied as best I could before introducing myself. “As you can see Mr. Frederick, I am in need of proper clothing attire. Unfortunately, I haven't a penny to my name. I was wondering if perhaps we could work something out. Maybe I could work for you to pay it back?” I offered.
“Ha ha, this isn't a charity. Your womanly charms may work on this young scrap, but I am not so easily persuaded,” he said. “Perhaps you miss understand. I wish to work for you in your shop. Perhaps I'll make enough to afford one of your dresses,” I explained. “Work?” he questioned as if he had never heard the word before. “What skills do you possess?” I thought about it for a moment and then answered. “Well, I can clean, I'm good with customers, and I can sew...somewhat.”
He laughed and waived me away. “I have a sewing lady, Robert here is good with bringing in customers, and cleaning is done thoroughly once a week on Sunday. Unless you have something else to offer me, I don't see where you are needed. Be gone.” Desperately, I grabbed his arm and laughed nervously. I did the best I could to play flirty, yet convincing that I had more skills than I let on.
“Aw, you're a tough one Mr. Frederick. What if I were to tell you that I can triple the amount of business you are currently receiving. Can Robert maintain the store and triple your business too?” I questioned. “How?” he asked. I smiled devilishly. Now that I had him hooked, I released my grip from his arm. “Well, I am a woman and I am smart. I know the style that woman want. They want something comfortable, stylish, and oh, so sexy. But not too sexy. I can make a prototype garment that will revolutionize fashion. And your shop will be the only shop where they can get it,” I explained brushing my fingers slightly against his cheek.
He grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Bring to me this prototype and the job is yours,” he said. I snatched my hand away. “Certainly, I will of course, need access to your sewing equipment and fabrics,” he looked wryly at me. “You don't have your own equipment?” I smiled and gave the I'm from out of town speech. He waived his hand toward the woman in the corner who was sewing on a hem. “This prototype better be as good as you say it is,” he said and walked wistfully away. I gave another slight curtsey, though he could see. Then waltz over toward the woman in the corner.
CHAPTER 3
Three weeks passed since Mr. Frederick hired me. He was very impressed with my slightly low cut, fake jeweled gown. It was ruffled around the collar with a folded pattern at the bottom, which raised the gown slightly above the ankle. According to the time period that was almost scandalous. The material was breathable and had a corset that was not made of hooks and wires. But of a series of strings that pulled the corset tight, but not too tight. The comfort factor was raised by a mere six percent.
The dress was comfortable, sexy, and stylish. Just as promised. By the end of the week we were overwhelmed by customers. My dress was in very high demand. So much so, that Mr. Frederick had to hire twelve new women to make the garment. Inadvertently, I didn't pay a cent for any of the old dresses I'd taken. On top of that, I was being paid a handsome wage. All seemed well, but I was beginning to feel tired and very weak. I didn't know how long I could keep making dresses for Mr. Frederick.
There was a ruckus by the shop. I peered out and saw two men shouting and pushing each other around in a drunken stupor. One was brawny with a thick mass of golden hair and a thin scar across his cheek. The other one was weakly and had thinning brown hair. The two men couldn't have been more opposite. Yet, even I could tell where they had come from. They were old employees of Stag Brewery. Most likely they were settling a dispute. Not on my watch, I thought. Their brawl was bad for business and with the number of new customers we had, someone could easily get hurt. Without thinking I rushed out of the shop and yelled at the offenders.
“Stop that incessant fighting!” I yelled. “Look lady, this ain't none of your business,” said the man with golden hair. His voice had a drunken drawl to it. “If I can't sell my dresses because of two drunken idiots, then it is my business,” I snapped. “Who the hell you think you are, talking to me like that?” he spat.
Then snatched me up from the ground. I was slung over his back as if I were a sack of potatoes. The man with the thin hair ran off as I started screaming.
“Put me down! Stop! Help!” A few people stared but no one rushed to my aid. The man was apparently not as drunk as I thought. He threw me on the back of his horse. “I think I'd better teach you a lesson,” he said. I tried to jump off his horse but, his fist slammed into my jaw and then again in my stomach. There was enough force in his blow to knock the wind from my lungs. He jumped on the horse. My head was pounding as I slumped it against his back. The horse went into a full gallop. I quickly tightened my legs against the horse's thigh to avoid falling off.
We rode through the forest at deadly speed. I struggled to hold on as we rode. I grabbed the back of his shirt to leverage myself. It wasn't long before we were deep in the forest. A rushing sea surrounding us. The man stopped the horse abruptly and jumped off without warning. He grabbed my waist and threw me to the ground. “No, no!” I screamed. “It’s time to teach you a lesson,” he said as started unbuttoning his breeches.
“No, please!” I screamed. “Shut up bitch, you brought this on yourself when you started meddling in people's affairs,” he spat. His hot breath smelled strongly of whiskey. I screamed as loud as I could when he started tearing at my dress. I heard the fabric of my dress rip and a drafty wind blew over my firm breast. I felt his warm hand cup my left breast. Tears fell down my cheeks and I continued to scream until my voice turned hoarse. I prayed for someone, anyone to come rescue me. Just as his hot mouth touched my chest, a gunshot echoed through into the stillness.
My attacker fell to his side. A bullet had penetrated his head and blood had splattered on my face and dress. I heard the breaking of sticks and nine different male voices. Before I knew it my attacker's body was lifted off me effortlessly and I was hoisted up. “You okay, pretty lady?” asked a man. His teeth were missing along with his hair. He wore a patch over his eye and an earring in his left ear.
“Pirates.” I whispered. Another man who was tall and muscular. His hair was semi-long and he was whether handsome, handed me a handkerchief. “You need not fear, my men will not harm you.” he said, his voice rather deep and husky. “Th-thank you.” I managed. “I realize that you've had quite the ordeal. My name is Captain Bretham. My ship is the Marionette,” he introduced. I introduced myself in return, them the Captain gave orders to his men, “Escort Miss Teagan to our ship.”
The men took me by the arm and escorted me away from the Captain. I followed them till we came upon a huge ship anchored by the bank. Across the body of the ship read: The Marionette, in bold red letters. “Pull down the bridge!” shouted the men. Suddenly a wooden bridge slowly descended toward us. When it landed on the ground I was escorted onto the ship. There was at least twenty men on the ship. All of them stared at me with hungry intend. I immediately felt uncomfortable, then I heard the captain come aboard. “At ease men!” he shouted and all the men lined up with their backs straight, standing like statues.
“Listen up, we've got a female guest on board. No one is to touch her. She is to be treated like all the other merchandise. She is going to fetch us a pretty penny at the whore house. And I don't want her injured. Understand?” He questioned. “Aye sir!” shouted the men. “Good now get to work you greasy good for nothings!” he shouted and his men scattered like dandelions in the wind.
I quickly grabbed the captain's arm. “I thought that you were going to take me back to town. You never said anything about selling me.” Shock played on my face. “We are not civil servants. You want a ride it'll cost you a pretty penny. You are, of course, free to leave this ship. You won't make it very far before the thieves get you. Maybe someone else will come along and rape you. Ha ha, but I have a feeling you'll choose to stick it out with us. There are worse things than having your virginity sold,” he laughed.
I gasp and swung my hand to smack him, but he caught my hand. “Careful,” he warned. “How can you be so heartless?” I asked. “I'm a pirate,” he laughed again and let my hand go. The Captain walked back to his quarters below deck. Shortly after the bridge was drawn up and the ship started to set sail.
“If you're going to be on this ship then you're going to work,” I was informed by one of the men. I was handed a half broken broom. I started to sweep when a fish net made of rope was thrown over my shoulders. “There's a lot of men on board this vessel missy. You wouldn't want to thrill these old men, best to keep um covered,” said the man who had handed me the broom. I wrapped the rope netting around me like a shawl and continued sweeping.
* * * *
Later that evening I was slumped over the side of the ship, watching the sun reflect off the water. I felt very ill. My thoughts wondered to the note that I had tossed back in my apartment. I knew that someone had pulled me here, but why? I wanted to find the answers but I was felt so weak. I was starting to forget things, simple things like my age or the address to my apartment. My middle name was even a blur.
I tried to think back to what had brought me here, to this time period? Some mysterious man or was it something else? My parents, where were my parents? I couldn't recall. The ship jarred against a huge wave and my poor shook up stomach had finally had enough. I barfed into the sea several times and then slumped to the ship's deck.
I awoke in the Captains quarters. He was sitting at his desk writing something. Every now and then he would take a swig of his whiskey. I sat up and he glanced in my direction. “Finally up?” he asked. I didn't respond. “Just like a woman, weak and fragile. Hump! Pathetic. The sooner I get rid of you the better,” he said. “I have some good news though. We'll be in the next town soon. There's a whore house by the new railway they’re putting in. Hump, railways. Men were made to travel the seas.” He took another swig of whiskey.
“No wonder you sail the seas, you're nothing but a vile, wretched old man who ho couldn't make in any other profession but stealing and pillaging others. You should be ashamed to be alive,” I spat. “What did you say to me?” He sat up quickly and grabbed me by both my arms. My face was now nose to nose with his. “You have a filthy mouth. No wonder that man tried to rape you, you're clearly not good enough for anything else.”
“Who was she that broke your heart and left you to speak nothing but curses to women? No descent living man would treat a woman with such audacity. You're nothing but a monster, a vile creep,” I snapped. Suddenly his hand flew across my face and I fell to the floor. My head was bursting and my ears ringed. “If you were one of my men I would have cut out your tongue. Never have I been so disrespected! And on my ship too!”
I was punished immediately. The Captain had me tied up in the brink. It was dark and cold and smelled awful, like rotted meat mixed with spoiled milk. My stomach did enormous flip flops. I want to get the hell off this ship. My wish finally came true when one of the men untied me and brought me back up to deck.
“Good news this is you're stop,” said the Captain as he grabbed my arm and pulled me off his ship. My legs were wobbly and I stumbled around a bit. The Captain all but dragged me through me the city when we reached the plain unmarked house. The Captain threw me against the side of the house and searched me for jewelry or loose change. He tossed the rope netting off me and then pulled me along. He knocked on the door once. He was greeted by a middle aged woman holding a cigarette. “Okay, Captain what do you have for me this time?” she said.
The Captain pushed me toward her. “Pff. This poor thing? Why did you have to damage her?” said the woman grabbing my cheeks with her hand. She turned my head right then left, inspecting my face for further injuries. “This one has a sharp mouth but I suspect she'll fuck better than she runs her mouth,” he said. “I can't take in a mouthy brat, nor can I pay full price for damaged goods,” said the woman. “Listen, you'll take her because she's not coming back with me and the last person you want to piss off is me,” he spat.
The woman pursed her lips. “Fine,” she said and pulled
me into the house with amazing strength. She paid the Captain whatever price they had arranged. Then her attention was on me. “Listen, I don't know what kind of trouble you caused Captain Bretham, but if you use your sharp tongue to scare off my clients I'll cut it from your mouth and leave you on the streets for thieves and beggars,” she warned. I nodded. “I really hate selling damaged goods. I hope for your sake the captain is right. You may refer to me as Madam Virmen.”
Her name sprung a tiny giggle from me. “You find something amusing?” she asked. “No mam.” I said still laughing inside. I was ordered to go upstairs and clean myself up. I had my first assignment that evening. I was to meet him behind the pub. I dressed the part but I had no intention of meeting anyone. When the time came I walked out in a plaid corset dress. I was in booted heels and my hair was a bun on top my head. A black cloth choker around my neck.
We were each given a number and I was to arrive in a horse drawn carriage. When the carriage took off and I was far away from the whore house. I opened the carriage door and jumped out. The driver stopped the carriage and I took off as fast as my legs could carry me. I ran into the woods, ran as far away as I could, I ran until my lungs burned and my legs gave out. I fell to the forest floor sure that I had gotten away.
CHAPTER 4
I had been walking for what seemed like ages. At last I spotted an old ranch and ran toward it. I looked around and saw no one. Then I went to the stables and found three nice horses. I patted one and he seemed friendly enough so I unlatched the stable and quickly threw a harness on him. By the time the sun rose in the sky, I had jumped on his back and rode away.
I didn't know where I was going, I didn't know what I was searching for. All I knew was that somehow I had stumbled upon a group of hunters carrying muskets and it was late evening. I steadily approached them. There were two men and three women. “Good evening!” I called out. I saw them lower their weapons as I approached them. “Good evening,” they called back.
