Lady Pirate

by Lynsay Sands

Page 9

 

  "Aye, you do, " sheagreed withher first real smile in what felt like days. Her gaze slid over him, taking in the white breeches and shirt under a lime green waistcoat, with lime green and yellow ribbons onthekneebreeches.

  They hadstopped at the tailor's onthe waytothe Beechams' soiree. It had been adesperate bid to get theirhands onsome lord-type clothes for Henry when they had realized that Meg was not going to recover in time to attend the "sour-ee. " It had worked, muchto Valoree's disgust. Ofcourse theman hadhad a proper outfit injust therightsize. Well, almostthe rightsize. It had been made fora Lordsomebody-or-other and was dueto be delivered the next day, but would be delayed now thanks to Henry. He'd offered up a smallfortune to beableto purchase it for his own use.

  Giving a mutter, Henrytugged at his breeches impatiently. That was theonly realproblem with theoutfit, Valoree supposed. The green waistcoat fit him in the shoulders, but it and the knee breecheswere too bigat the waist. Apparentlythe noble who'd commissioned ithad something of astomach, while Henry, who kept trimby pulling ropes and climbing rigging, did not. Now Henry was forced to constantly tug the pants up or else risk losing them. Avoice interrupted her musings.

  "Lady Ainsley. "

  Leaning to the side slightly, Valoree peered past Henry's scowling face at the smallish man who was approaching from behind him.

  "Beecham, "shesaid. Henrymadea face, took one last swipe at herface, then turned to greettheman.

  "Ah, Lord Beecham. A pleasure to meettheman who made the arrangements Irequested. Good ofye toinvite us to thishere littleswarming, " Henrybegan cheerfully.

  "Soiree, " Valoree corrected, thenforced a brightsmile to her face as she nodded at their host. "Lord Beecham, my uncle Henry. "

  "Apleasure, my lo - Ah. . . "The youngman paused, his eyes fixed onthepirate, anda frownbegan toslip ontohis face.

  "Is there something wrong? " Valoree asked atouch nervously, onlyjust now worrying overhis recognizing Henry as oneof the servants that had accompanied her earlier that afternoon. She hadn't thought itaproblem, for She hadheard that mostnobles didn't trouble themselves to notice servants. It figured that Beecham wouldbe one of thefew who did.

  "I am sorryforstaring, mylord, " theman said. "It is just that you look very much like one of the servants Isaw with Lady Ainsley this afternoon. "

  "Ah. " Henry nodded solemnly, and Valoree waited for his explanation, knowing hewould come up with one. The sailor was a quick thinker. He didn'tdisappoint her. "That'd be me brother.

  Half brother, thatis. My father's bastard offspring. His mother wasoneof our maids onthe island. When he came of age, we tookhim onas a servant. Have to look after family, don't ye know. " He slapped their host on theback as he said that, nearly sending the slender manto his knees.

  Maintaininghis feet, Beecham managed a weaksmileatthe jovial man. Then he glanced to Valoree and asked with real regret, "Yourauntcould notmake it tonight? "

  "'Fraidnot, " Henry answeredbeforeValoree couldspeak, then tried for a conspiratorial look and said, "You know howwomen are. Fussing overtheleast little problem. Well, she took to the bo - "

  "Bed, " Valoree interjected quicklybefore he could finish. "She was not feeling welland took to herbed. "

  "I see, " Beecham said, and Valoreesuspectedhe did see - if not the whole picture, then thatsomething was wrongwiththe picture theywere trying to present. Sighinginwardly, she sent a quick glance at Henry, relieved when he caught the younger man'sarm and whirled him around to propel him toward the middle of theroom.

  "How about ye introduce us around so we can size up the offerings this evening. "

  "Offerings? " Beecham asked uncertainly.

  "Aye. The men. Got to marry this little lady off, don't ye know. "

  Glaring at theback ofhis head and followingthe men intothe crowd, Valoree imaginedshe had one of her blades withher and was sticking it intoher quartermaster's arse.

  "Have you seen Lady Ainsley? "

  Daniel glanced up from the drink he had beencontemplating, his eyebrowsrising slightlyat Beecham's distressed face. "Last I saw her, she was with youand thatolder gentleman. "

  "Her uncle. "Beecham sighed, turning toperuse the roomful of people unhappily, unawareof the wayDaniel stiffened.

  "Heruncle? " he askedcarefully. "On which side? "

  Beecham turnedback, his eyes blinking rapidly. "Which side? You mean which side of the family is he from? " The man frowned slightly. "Idonot know. She merely introduced him as UncleHenry. I imagine he isfromthemother's side, however, since I do not believe that Lord Ainsley had a brother. " He pausedto considerthat briefly, then shrugged with disinterest.

  "He does not visit London much, obviously, " Daniel said.

  Beecham shook his head.

  "He hasaplantation on oneof the islands in the Caribbean.

  This is hisfirsttrip toLondon in years. "

  "Whichisland? "

  Beecham frownedat the question. "I. . . I am not sure. I do not think they mentioned which one, " he admitted slowly, then waved the question away. "I must find herand make sure she is allright. "

  "Did something happen? " Daniel asked before he could slip away, and the other man groaned.

  "Aye. Therewas anincident. "

  Daniel's eyebrowsrose at his pained inflection. "An incident? "

  "Yes. " Beecham hesitated, then said, "I had introducedthem to several people when Mother wavedus over - "

  Daniel hadto smother agrinat the way the man said the word mother, though he couldn't blame him. Were Lady Beecham Daniel's ownmother . . . Well, he was just grateful she wasn't. She was a rather unpleasant woman.

  "So Iwas forced to introduce LadyAinsley and her uncle to her friends; thenMothersentme off to fetch her a sweetmeat.

  Apparently, while Iwas gone. . . Well. . . "He whined piteously.

  "Lady Ainsley's facefell off. "

  Daniel blinked, bemused. "Her facefell off? "

  Beecham nodded, seemingly broken. Then he suddenly straightened, an idea strikinghim. "Mayhap I should check - "

  "Beecham, " Daniel interrupted, drawing the other man's distracted attention.

  "Hmmm? "

  "How do you . . . I mean, howis itpossible that her face fell off? "

  "Oh! Well, it was her . . . er . . . the white stuff that all thewomen wear. " Heshookhis head witha frown. "Itwasdryingup on her skin and cracking. " His frown deepened. "I thought to give warning, but feared to embarrass her, soI didnotsay anything.

  She knows now. " He shook his head again. "It was horrible, really. I must find out where she got that makeup and warn everyone to stayaway - "

  "Beecham, " Daniel interrupted patiently.

  "Oh, sorry. Well, it was drying up as the nightprogressed. It turned asort ofgrayish color asit dried and began tocrack. Little bitsof it were flaking off for most of the night as I tookher and her uncle around. Honestly, we left a trailof the stufffrom one end of the ballroom to theother. I believeshe musthavebeen aware of itand did not know what to do, for she grew quieter and quieter as the evening progressed. And, of course, she could surely feel it. It seemed to be pulling her face tight. "

  Seeing that Daniel was growing impatient again, Beecham hurried hisstory along. "Anyway, apparently Mother asked her a question she could notjust nodat asshe had been doingmost of the night. Shespoke, her facecracked, and a greatchunk of it fell right off her chin. It bounced off her" - he gestured vaguely towardhis chest - "and it plopped into Mother's wine. Of course, Mother's wine splashedout allover hernew yellow gown. It will probablystain, and she is quite distressed, " he ended somewhat lamely.

  Danielbit his lip hard to keep back thelaugh that wanted to escape as hevisualized the "incident. " Takinga momentto clear histhroat, he asked, "I takeit the lady then disappeared? "

  "Fled with her uncle on her heels, " Beecham agreed unhappily.

  "I do not know where they may have gone
. "

  "I would think theywent straight home, " Daniel proposed, but Beecham quicklyshook hishead.

  "I went out front and checked. Their carriage is still here. "

  When Daniel raised his eyebrows, Beecham shrugged. "Her servants arerather easyto spot. Pink livery. " He frowned. "I've never seenmen look quite sodisreputable in pink livery as hers do. Andthey are allsobig. "Shaking his head, he bowed slightly toward Daniel. "I really must find her. I feel somehow responsible. I never should have left her with Mother. Excuse me. "

  Daniel considered thatlast phraseasthe fellow hurriedoff. It was more telling than the rest of the tale. Beecham suspected his mother wassomehow at fault for the whole affair.

  KnowingLady Beecham, she probably was. She wouldhave seen theproblem the girlwas having, but ratherthan taking her aside and helping herrepair her problem, as any good hostess would, She had probablysent her son off deliberatelyso that he could not field questionsandthe girlwould have to speak and suffer the humiliation ofacracking face. Lady Beecham was a rather cold, nasty piece of work. Her friends were not much better, andthe crowd of them together. . . Well, they wouldhave eaten Lady Ainsley alive, he thought. But would they? He reconsidered. The woman he had seeneavesdropping at Whister's had not appeared the sort easily chewed up and spat out by anyone, even society's nastiest matrons. No. Just witnessthe fact that She had not already jumpedinher carriageand fled.

  He glanced around the room. Wherehad shegotten tothen? he wondered. His gaze alighted on Lady Beecham and her crowd of cronies. They wereall having a good laugh, he saw. His eyes narrowed asone of thewomen gestured toward thedoors tothe balcony, titteringas shedid. Daniel stiffened.

  Surelythat was not whereLady Ainsley had run off to? If so, wouldn'tLady Beecham have told her son, rather thanhave him run about searching forher? Nay. Ofcourse not. Not if she didn't wantthefellow to have anythingto do with her.

  Positivehe was right and drawn by his curiosity, Daniel strode towardthebalcony doors.

  "Oh, Captain, girl, I'msosorry, "Henry apologized ashe found Valoreeon thebalcony. "This herewasa terrible idea. Wenever shouldhave madeye come out when yewere without the proper stuff. " Awkwardly patting her shaking shoulders, he sighed miserably. "Please don't be crying, though. Yer breakin' me heart. "

  Valoree wheeled around at that. "I ain't crying, ye silly old goat, " shesnapped, herEnglish slipping somewhat in herhurry to correct him. She had not cried since Jeremy's death. Pirate captainsdidnot cry.

  "Oh . . . Well, yershoulders wasshaking so hard I - "

  "I was laughing, " sheexplained. At his amazed expression, she shook her head. "Itwas damned funny when my facefell off. Did you see Lady Beecham's face whenit plopped in her wine? I thoughtI'dsplit a gutright there. " She curledherlip. "She was hoping for something of the like to happen, I think, the nastyold bitty. ButIdon't thinkshewas quite prepared for ittoruin her precious gownlike that. "

  "Nay, Idon't thinkshe was, " Henry sighed. "And she is a nasty old biddy. "

  "Aye, she is, " Valoree agreed, her amusement evaporating as she recalled the woman'sfalse smile andcold eyes. HadLady Beecham found aught amiss with Henry's account of life on their Caribbeanplantation? He had been tellingtales taller than the Valor's masts tonight, but then hehad always been that way on the ship, too, entertaining the menwithsometruly imaginative yarns when they relaxedin the evenings. Unfortunately, notever having moved in such elevated circles as these people moved in, he'd had to makeeverything upfrom scratch. And even Valoree, who had notlived the lifeof a noble since her eleventhyear, had seengreat, gaping errors in hislies.

  Not that he had told many of them at first, but once young Beecham had departed and they had been left alone with his mother and her crowd, Henry had started talking almost feverishly inan effort todrawattention awayfrom Valoree and hercrackingface. Themore hehad babbled away about their huge plantation - the sugarcane, the servants, and the fine "shorties" they held there - well, the more malicious Lady Beecham'ssmile had gotten, and the more she hadeyed, Valoree like a hawk eyeing a field mouse. Then she had started interrupting Henry to askValoreequestions. Henry had tried to answer them, but finally the woman had said, "I asked your niece, my lord. Surely she can answer for herself. "

  It wasthen that, withnothing else forit, Valoreehadopened hermouth tospeak and senta great avalanche of the white muck sailing off herface. The largestchunk hadbounced off herchest into the woman's gobletof red wine, which had then splashed bloodred onher yellow gown.

  Takingone look at the woman's horrified face, Valoree had whirled awayto flee. But asshe'd justtoldHenry, it was only so that shewould not be seenwhen sheburst out laughing.

  "I suppose tonight probably ruined everything, " Henry said.

  "We'll never getanother invite toone of these here sworings, and we'll never get you marriednow. I should havelistened to Meg instead of forcing ye to come tonight. "

  Valoree's ears perked up;she was hopeful that this might signal theend of this stupidityand that she might return toher old life, whereshe felt safer despite the inherent danger ofbeing a pirate.

  Was Henryadmittingdefeat so soon? And not because of any fault of hers but because of the men's own miscalculations? Oh, this was too perfect. Better than she hadhoped for.

  Keeping her reliefhidden, she noddedinagreement. "Aye. I doubtwe garnered any friends here tonight. We are ruined, I believeis the term. " Shegave a feigned sighof disappointment, thenheadedfor thedoor. "Well, we'dbest clear out of here and head home to tell the men. "