“All the while, I'd be maneuvering close in to grapple their rigging and fire what little I had into their helm or their bow, whichever stood the clearest. That is, whichever made the best target, depending on from which way they approached. Then I’d make a full sail and run like hell, hoping to tear away their rigging with my grappling in the turn-tail."
If the helm was hit hard, the frigate could not steer. A hole in the bow would have to be plugged or they’d be sinking too fast as they gave chase. Rigging torn away would take time in the mending; they couldn’t raise the sails any way—at least, not enough to catch a full sail on a merchantman.
No one spoke for a moment. Her wine glass was empty, but Kate needed something to do with her hands. She played with her fork instead.
"If they caught you, they would show no quarter," the Marquis said.
"Perhaps, though I never dropped my colors, nor put up a flag of surrender.”
“Ruse de guerre,” the Frenchman said.
A ruse of war, fool the enemy.
She continued, “Essentially, the battle is still on. If they could still steer and weren’t sinking, they might catch me. If the officers survived and the rigging remained intact, they might come after as well. It would be a gamble, this is true, but the odds would be better, if not in my favor. Such was the case anyway. And why have you all gone quiet?"
Such was the case. Was this true, did this happen? She didn’t mean to let that part slip. Kate held her breath just a bit.
Eventually, the Marquis said, "Perhaps your plan would work. But what does a woman really know of war? Have you ever been desperate or even very hungry?"
Kate felt a chill, for his eyes were too hard upon her. Something made her think that both Frenchmen had felt hunger and desperation recently, and maybe caused a bit of it too. She had no surprise that these men we not really what they first seemed.
She then glanced to Ambrose Standish. He was looking both queasy and sleepy from too much wine and too little food.
"Only once,” she said quietly. “It was in the Horse Latitudes. We lost the wind and went adrift for many days. It had been a stormy trip with sad progress, and since we expected land fall much sooner, we ran out of food only a few days becalmed, and water was running quite low too."
"What happened?” Dr. Llewellyn said.
“Perhaps I should not speak of it in polite society.”
“No, do go on,” the Marquis said and offered her more wine.
She continued as he poured, "We had been without food for several days when a corpse of something huge drifted by. Probably a whale, though I don’t think I recall seeing it clearly now. I had never seen one in those waters before, but sometimes a great beast would beach itself after storms because—never mind. Whatever it was, it was afloat with the gases of its own decay. Flies swarmed above it like a black cloud, so it might have come from somewhere near land, but we didn’t think about that at the time. You could hear them as much as see them. The flies, I mean.”
“You did not eat the . . .” The Earl burped into his napkin, but waved her to go on.
“No, something else happened that I had heard of, but had never seen until then. Jumping fish. They had long fins and leapt out of the water to catch the buzzing flies. It was like a strange sort of waterfall of sorts, with their silvery colors splashing in the sun. It was really quite a magical thing."
"I have seen that once," Dr. Llewellyn said. “It was an amazing sight, even beautiful, one I shall never forget. Pray, continue."
"Sea birds swooped down and caught the fish, then flew low over the deck with their burden. We used oars and anything else to knock down the birds, and in doing so, we got both fish and bird.”
“So you had a feast. I am afraid your story has lost its interest,” the Frenchman said.
Kate cleared her throat, but still her voice came out gruffly. “I was not prepared for— Perhaps I have said enough.”
"Don’t leave it half done, Katherine. Finish the story. It’s expected," Standish said quietly.
His eyes were glazed over, and Standish now stared through the cabin walls. Kate too looked at nothing in particular as she spoke, for she was seeing it all again there in her mind. Her voice was very low.
"The men, the crew, their hands and teeth— The creatures were still alive, ripped apart. The fish were gruesome, but they made no sound . . . But the cries from the birds and the smell of blood and the sound of the flies. I’ve never heard such—“
She stopped, swallowed, blinked a few times. A great wave of heat made her dizzy. She wavered, afraid she might pass out. She took a deep breath, and then another as a scene flashed in her mind:
It was a sunny day; a bloody body lay at the old man’s feet. The old native man started keening as he dropped to his knees, a warrior burst into the light with a scream—
She jerked, startled.
“Are you all right?” said the doctor.
She shuddered, but nodded. Her eyes never left her dinner plate. In fact, she couldn’t look up, couldn’t look at them. But she pushed the plate farther away. Just then the smell of the food was sickening.
Someone said, “What happened.”
I don’t remember, she thought. But then realized they were referring to the fish and the birds. She continued, "After a day and a night, the winds took us again. In less than two days we made landfall, but in all that time, no one spoke to one another, except to give orders. And no one looked at the other either."
“Why didn’t you use your magic bracelet to summon the wind,” Standish said. He was trying to make light, but he looked a little green.
“I was still very young, Ambrose.”
He knew what that meant: She still wasn’t talking after her mother’s murder. That silence had gone on for years. But she didn’t say that now, she only added, “I’ve never been as clever as you.”
The Frenchman belched. "I am happy to hear you did not partake of the rotting corpse, but did you eat any of the—“
Suddenly Ambrose Standish held both hands to his mouth and rushed from the cabin.
She looked at him directly, “I said the crew ate them. I acted as cabin boy, part of the crew.” Kate got up then and walked away without a look back.
In a moment, Standish returned.
“Magic bracelet?” Dr. Llewellyn said.
“She can summon the wind,” the captain said. Then he cleared his throat. “The bracelet is some kind of native charm. She told me.”
Standish waved his hand. “Redskin mumble-jumble. Anyway, it didn’t matter if she had it then or not, she was only child still when it happened.”
Dr. Llewellyn said, “Yes, that must have been a terrible thing to see. One can not expect a child to—“
“No, no, I meant that when she was six, she clammed right up and didn’t say another word until three or four years later, I’m told. It was the strangest thing. Sometimes I wish the same was true now.”
He cackled, but choked it off when he realized how it sounded.
The others said nothing, but seemed to be waiting for some further explanation.
He shrugged and added, “Well, you can’t summon up the wind if you can’t say a thing.” Then he chuckled to himself for quite a long time. At least until the others started talking again, this time of war and the bloody consequences they had seen.
* * * * *
CHAPTER 14 - The Slip
Kate leaned on the rail, looking up at the stars as she took deep breaths and cursed herself for telling the tale—for even remembering the tale.
The jolly boat from the Stalwart was waiting below for Sir Edward and Dr. Llewellyn. Kate heard murmurs and looked back toward the great cabin to find them both watching her as the others inside called their goodnight. She nodded politely when they came near.
“You have worn that dress before,” Sir Edward said.
Dr. Llewellyn quickly added, “I think we mean to say that you look lovely tonight, Miss Senlis.”
&
nbsp; “Is that what you meant?” she said to Sir Edward.
He wasn’t smiling. “How well do you know your guests?”
“He means the French,” Dr. Llewellyn said.
“She knows what I mean,” the captain snapped.
Her eyebrow went up with the challenge. “I’m not sure that I do.”
“You met on the quay with your French allies days before you sailed. Clearly you talked the Earl into something. I assume you had this whole thing planned. What I do not know is where you are headed and what you hope to accomplish.”
"Captain?" Dr. Llewellyn said.
She didn't care for the look in Captain Sir Edward Lindsay’s eyes. Kate wasn't sure she was angry or sorry, but she was tired of wondering either way. Besides, he had part of it right, and she didn’t want him to guess the rest. The best she could do was to distract him or bore him, and luckily, she was talented in both.
She said, “It was not my choice there on the quay, it’s a public place and all manner of rabble may come and go, as you did so yourself that same day. I would have tried avoidance, but it never works for long with men like those. And worse, they may see it as a form of gambling; sometimes they even make bets in pursuit of a female conquest—funny that you were there then as well as now. One might consider that you are the one who is doing the plotting.”
He opened his mouth, but it took a moment for anything to come out. “That is no explanation,” Sir Edward finally said.
But she was done with the topic. She said stubbornly, “You read sinister into everything. But that’s what you get when you go skulking around, spying on people when you don’t know what they’re about.”
Sir Edward took a step backwards at her words and her glare. Then his mouth shut tight. Kate decided to provoke him further as payback for making her mad in the first place.
“Nothing to add? I’ll take that as concession to the point in lieu of an apology from you.”
“He kissed you,” Sir Edward blurted, and then turned so red that it was obvious even in the lamplight.
To her horror, Kate felt the flush of red in her own face too.
Dr. Llewellyn was clearly enjoying this very much. He may not know whom the captain meant by the comment, but he was fascinated in any case. He said, “Why would he kiss— I mean . . .”
Kate said, “Not complimentary, that. Strange how times of undue burden can bring out the brilliance of a plan."
“A plan?” Dr. Llewellyn said.
"The dead rat," she explained. “I had no cakes, you see.”
Sir Edward let out a grunt of exasperation. Dr. Llewellyn’s eyebrows went up as quickly as his grin went down. She continued without even looking their way. Kate spoke now with a definite Bostonian flare, though the words came more rapidly than was normal in Boston tea society:
"It looked quite thin, probably a stray. It was chewing on a dead rodent, it turns out, though I didn’t notice it until it was quite too late. It was only a puppy, and I picked it up—the dog, not the rat, of course. It licked my face, call it a kiss if you like. At first I was repulsed, but I soon saw the benefit when I saw my would-be benefactor advance towards my person yet again."
“You used the smelly dog to repeal a Frenchman? Who knew they would take offense to that?” the doctor said and chuckled.
Sir Edward sighed. Mr. Whayles walked by whistling. He gave a nod to the men, but he winked at Kate.
“What was that about?” Sir Edward demanded.
"Do carry on," Dr. Llewellyn said, his eye to Sir Edward in question. “What about the cakes?”
The captain’s lips were very tight together as Kate keep telling the tale. "One winter, we stayed in Boston while the ship was in dry dock. Next door to my grandmother’s house was a family, quite well to do, with a daughter near my age. Her name was Theresa Marie, but I called her Terry. She was the most striking of young ladies, the kind who turns heads when she enters a room."
Sir Edward was looking all around: out to sea, up to the masts, down to the deck. "I presume this has something to do with the issue at hand?"
She ignored him. Mostly. So did Dr. Llewellyn.
“Terry was being called upon with some insistence by a young man of little consequence and worse ambitions, though of impeccable family connections. Her parents were far too busy socially to take much notice and were much too tolerant in my view. Finally, Terry decided to take matters into her own hands and invited the sorry young man to tea chaperoned only by her newest of friends.”
Dr. Llewellyn said, “Which was you?”
“Which was I. Terry gave the cook a bottle of fine spirits, Madeira, I believe. I’ve seen the worth ever since, by the way. The cook was generous enough to offer us a nip that very same day. She had been with the family a very long time. Of course, a nip turned into two and so on.”
She lost herself in the remembrance. They waited, but she didn’t come back. Sir Edward cleared his throat.
Kate seemed to awaken to the moment again. “Terry had the cook bake some fairy cakes for the upcoming tea, which were burned black as coal in the end. I know what you’re thinking, but she did it herself, she got no help from me at all."
"How do you know all this?" Dr. Llewellyn said.
"Well, of course I was there. The cook was drunk by then, though I can’t vouch for our own states either. In any case, we considered it our civic duty to help put out the fire. Boston can be very boring in the winter. Ice fishing is too cold for me, there’s no sailing or rowing, and nothing to pick, pluck, or gather. Still, no sense in burning the whole place down.”
Mr. Whayles walked by, whistling again. Sir Edward sighed once more.
She continued, “Anyway, the fairy cakes were iced over and looked pleasant enough, burnt and all. Come time for tea, Terry told the unworthy young man that she had supervised the cooking herself. She conveyed that it was her fondest wish, when she married, that she would to take such devoted care of her husband. She would only entrust his health and care to her own gentle hands.”
“I’m sure that he didn’t believe her,” the doctor said.
“Probably true. But as he was encouraged to enjoy the cakes—it was only polite—as she discussed her sizable dowry, and how she had convinced her father to give a sizable portion to the poor instead. Of course I found this quite commendable, and we discussed which charitable works were deserving, though none of them included the unworthy young man."
“More fool him,” the captain mumbled. “A woman will seldom give up her comforts, especially if she has grown up with them.”
"To what purpose did she do and say these things?" Dr. Llewellyn said. “Why did she not just tell him she was not interested in his attentions?”
Sir Edward grunted, as if he already knew the answer well enough.
But Kate replied as if the doctor was simple in the head: "Something denied is often pursued all the more. His family was formidable; her parents also desired the match. In any case, the young man choked down the cakes as well as the tea, which I made with a good bit of feverfew as Terry suffered headaches, you see. It really can be quite bitter, but we were both quite used to it, Terry and me. And of course, there was the Madeira . . .”
“And so?” the captain said impatiently.
“He was quickly off after that and never seen on her doorstep or heard from again."
"Probably killed him," Mr. Whayles mumbled as he passed by again.
"Perhaps. But as you can see, I did not have any burnt little cakes or bitter tea, but I did have the dog chewing on the dead rat. I made the man hold the dog, and the dog kissed the man, the same as he kissed me, and worse. The dog not the man, or do I mean it the other way round? Anyway, the Frenchman retched, and maybe the other one too, and that is the end of the story."
Sir Edward growled and stepped away.
Kate decided she like the sound. She also decided that maybe she was taking too much pleasure in Edward Lindsay’s company. But it wasn’t her fault if he had come bump
ing into her life once again, or that her stories took too long. That was the point anyway. Did he expect her to lie?
No, it was fate, she was sure. But Kate did wonder if there was any kind of magic that could summon him up like she could summon up the wind.
She added, "I didn't bring it up, sir, you did ask. And it's not as if I was the one chewing on the dead rat. I took a real bath after, as I said."
Dr. Llewellyn scratched the side of his nose in consideration, but said nothing more.
"Oh dear, the dress doesn’t still smell—“ She started to sniff at herself here and there, even lifting the skirt to take a good whiff of the hem, not giving a thought to her petticoat showing. She never did wear the proper rigging anyway; it was just too much work.
"Kate, you smell just fine," Dr. Llewellyn said, desperately trying not to chuckle.
Sir Edward was heading over to the rail by then and would have been down the side to his boat in no time, but the Frenchman came from the cabin just then. The man strolled, casually looking at the stars, out to sea, around at nothing—especially at the nothing that seemed to be all around the Stalwart.
Kate expected him to take notes, if in fact he was spying. Or maybe he was just drunk and wandering. She could smell the smoke and the liquor on him even from her distance.
He said, “Ah, bon, you are still here.” He held out a folded paper toward the captain. “The good Earl wishes me to give this to you. You will read it now, he has instructed. Good night.” He bowed slightly, but did not wait for their response. He turned, staggered a few steps before he righted himself again, and then went on.
Sir Edward opened the note. His mouth shut tight again as he read. She figured he must have a headache by now with all of that scowling—and me with no feverfew tea.
The Wilde Flower Saga: A Contrary Wind (Historical Adventure Series) Page 14
