The Lady Captain (Belles & Bullets Book 4)

by Caylen McQueen

  “Indeed.” A grin ignited on Harriot's lips. “Everything is nearly ready. We have much to discuss... Queen Loreina.”

  Thirteen

  When she wasn't forced to peel vegetables, Lettie scoured the airship in search of a weapon. They were fools to let her roam free, because she had only one goal in mind: free her men from prison. As long as she was stuck on Captain Featherstone's airship, she would attempt to complete that goal with an indomitable ferocity.

  Julian's crew was comprised of mostly numbskulls, but to their credit, they were smart enough not to leave any weapons lying around. She couldn't even find a broken shard of glass or a letter opener. When she finally found a suitable weapon, she was pleased, because it belonged to none other than the captain himself. He was slumbering on the deck—as he often did—shielded by the shade of an immense black parasol. His white shirt was partially unbuttoned, his hair was slicked back, and he had a blue bandana tied around his neck. He often carried a walking stick with him, and today was no exception. He had stowed it beneath his lounge chair, and Lettie was determined to claim it.

  “He's the laziest captain in the world, I swear...” Lettie whispered to herself. “Maybe even the laziest man in the world. He should be ashamed.”

  Lettie slipped off her boots, ridding herself of their clacking heels, and tiptoed to Julian as silently as possible. As she reached under his chair, Julian suddenly stirred. Lettie pulled back her hand and froze. Her worries were for naught, because he mumbled something about “bonbons and bosoms” and rolled away from her. Since he was no longer facing her direction, it was easier to claim his walking stick for herself. She scooped it off the deck, tucked it under her arm, jumped into her boots and hurried back to her bedroom before anyone witnessed her crime.

  At precisely 13:00 each day, Jared delivered a meal to her room. Apart from being Lettie's caretaker, he was also the keeper of a massive keyring. She had been stuck on the airship for two days, and on the second day, she studied Jared's every move. As she suspected, he had the key to the prison. She needed to swipe the keys, find her men, and stage a coup.

  Lettie sat in bed and waited for her unsuspecting victim to arrive. At 12:59, she hid Julian's walking stick behind her back and held her breath. As soon as she heard the knock on the door, she sweetly answered, “Come in!”

  Jared entered with a huge smile on his face, which made her feel guilty. She couldn't condemn him for being part of Julian's crew. Jared was friendly, but misguided.

  “Good afternoon, Captain Jordan!” Jared was so nice, he was the only one who addressed her by her proper title: Captain. “I have a sandwich for you. Ham and cheese, as you requested.”

  “Thank you, Jared.” Lettie returned Jared's smile as she accepted the plate. She didn't want to give him a reason to suspect her of foul play, so she feigned friendliness. “That's very kind of you.”

  “Is there anything else I can get for you, Miss?”

  “A glass of water would be nice,” she said. “Or wine, if you have it.”

  “Of course,” Jared said, respectfully bowing his head. As soon as he was facing the door, Lettie made her move. She sprang from bed, dashed forward, and clobbered his head with the walking stick.

  But he didn't go down right away, so she had to hit him a second time.

  “I'm sorry, Jared!” Lettie exclaimed as she dragged the unconscious young man away from the door. “I'm so, so sorry!”

  Lettie claimed the keyring, as well as a superior weapon: Jared's revolver. She stowed the gun in the front of her breeches and stepped into the hall. Then she turned into the corridor that led to the prison, which was one of the few places on the airship where she wasn't permitted to roam. Right before she reached the prison, an adjacent door flew open, and Jolly emerged. Despite his friendly-sounding name, Jolly was one of the few people on the airship who truly intimidated her, so she desperately wanted to avoid an encounter. She slipped through the nearest door and quietly closed it behind her.

  When Jolly paused in front of her door, Lettie nearly panicked. She needed a place to hide! Thinking fast, she tiptoed to an enormous keg of rum, threw open the lid, and climbed inside. She landed waist-deep in spirits as she closed the lid on top of her. It was hardly the world's best hiding place, but it was the only option she had. For a moment, she was afraid she landed in urine, because that was exactly what it smelled like.

  Seconds after the keg's lid was shut, Jolly stuck his head into the room and yelled, “Hello? Is there someone in here?” As he waited for a reply, Lettie held her breath. Everything was so silent, she could almost hear her own heartbeat.

  The door closed, and Jolly's weighty footsteps receded down the hall. Lettie stayed in the keg until she was absolutely certain he was gone. A few minutes later, she lifted the lid and started to climb out, but as soon as she did, she heard voices in the hall. With a gasp, she ducked back into the rum.

  Lettie was soaked in alcohol and completely uncomfortable. Even though the keg was large, her body was crammed inside it. Sadly, the voices persisted, as did her discomfort. After several minutes in the keg, her curiosity overtook her. She cupped her hands, filled them with rum, and brought the foul-smelling liquor to her lips.

  She nearly spat it out. “Swill,” Lettie whispered to herself. “Who could possibly drink this stuff?”

  Meanwhile, on the deck, Julian decided it was the right time to release the Baltmoor Aerial Militiamen from his ship. As he watched them disembark, he received a report from Jolly, who looked even more disgruntled than usual.

  His first mate simply said, “Girl's gone.”

  “I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate,” Julian responded. It was an especially hot day, and his forehead was dripping with sweat, so he wiped it with his bandana.

  “Lettie. Letitia. Jordan. Whatever you want to call her. She's gone.”

  “Gone as in you can't find her, or gone as in she's left the airship?” Julian needed more information. “Because if it's the latter, she's allowed to leave with her men. I'm releasing them all.”

  Jolly's answer was short, but sufficient. “Can't find her.”

  “I'm guessing you checked her room?”

  “Aye. That was the first place we checked. She wasn't there, but we did find Jared, beaten over the head and unconscious. We're thinking she attacked him.”

  “That's unfortunate.” Julian pouted at the news. Because he had a soft spot for women—and respect for his fellow captain—he didn't want to lock her up. But if she was attacking his crew, especially a kind young man like Jared, she needed to be punished. “I'm guessing she has no idea I'm letting her men walk free today?”

  Jolly shook his head. “Prob'ly not.”

  “Wow. Her timing is terrible.” When the last of Lettie's men was off the airship, he turned to Jolly and sighed. “Get us back in the air. Wherever Lettie is, we need to find her. I'm afraid she's ruined her chances of getting off this airship anytime soon.”

  “Poor girl,” Jolly chuckled.

  As soon as they were airborne, everyone on the ship was assigned the same task: find Lettie. Even Julian joined the search. Coincidentally, it was Julian himself—as well as Jolly and one other sailor—who caught her climbing from the keg. When she saw the three of them gawking at her, she lost her footing and fell back into the rum.

  “Oh my!” Julian exclaimed, suppressing a chuckle as he watched her fall. “I think it might be time to acknowledge your drinking problem, Lettie. I'm shocked!”

  Ignoring his captain's joke, Jolly bellowed, “I thought I heard someone in here earlier!” He marched over to the keg, grabbed Lettie's arm, and roughly dragged her out. “It's good to know I wasn't wrong.”

  “Whoa whoa whoa! Be gentle with her, Jolly!” Julian demanded. “She's still our guest, as well as a lady... albeit a very ill-behaved lady.”

  Lettie, who was in a state of shock, had forgotten about her gun. Ignoring his captain's orders, Jolly found her revolver, took it, and rammed the barrel agai
nst her forehead. “Dumb bitch!” the first mate spat. “You picked a terrible time to be stupid!”

  “Language, Jolly,” his captain cautioned him. “Do watch your language. And for goodness sake, don't hurt the girl!” Julian gently took Lettie's hand and led her away from his scowling first mate. Her rum-soaked boots squished against the floor with every step she took. At the moment, Lettie was speechless. Her plan was completely foiled and she wasn't sure how to process her failure.

  “Now... tell me, Lettie...” Julian continued. “What exactly were you trying to accomplish? And why would you attack Jared, of all people? He's probably the nicest person on this ship. If you wanted to give someone a thump on the head, you should've chosen me. God knows I would've deserved it for some reason.”

  “I didn't mean to hurt him,” Lettie lamented. “Is he hurt?”

  “He'll live. But seriously... why?” Julian begged for an answer. “Why did you do this? What were you planning?”

  “I wanted to free my men and--”

  “Free her men!” repeated Jolly, who followed them into the hallway. A deep guffaw exploded from his lips, which was rare for him. Jolly never laughed. “You stupid girl! We already freed them!”

  Lettie's eyes swelled. “What? When?”

  “Just now!” Jolly exchanged glances with the sailor who stood beside him. Both of them looked thoroughly amused by Lettie's bad decision. In fact, the unnamed sailor was wiping away tears of laughter.

  “Featherstone...” Lettie was groaning as she met Julian's gaze. “Is this true? You really let them go?”

  Julian winced and nodded. “I'm afraid so.”

  “You're lying, right?” Lettie refused to believe it.

  “I'm not lying, dear. You can ask anyone.”

  Something about the way Julian said the word dear made her skin prickle. It sounded incredibly condescending. “Why would you just... let them go?”

  Julian's answer was accompanied by a shrug. “Because it was never my intention to keep them. And it was never my intention to keep you, either... but now that you've misbehaved...”

  “You need to punish her,” Jolly demanded. “She was a guest. She hit the boy. I don't care that she's a woman... you need to punish her like you'd punish any man on this airship!”

  “And what would you suggest, Jolly?”

  “Give her lashes. Flog her!”

  When Lettie saw the horror in Julian's eyes, she felt a bit relieved. For the first time, she was glad he was the one in charge.

  “Goodness no! No no no!” Julian was adamant. “Nobody's going to hurt her. Look at her! She's lovely. I'd never hurt her!”

  “She wouldn't hesitate to hurt you, though,” Jolly warned him. “Give her a chance, and she'd stab you in the back without a second thought. I guarantee it.”

  “That may be true. Nevertheless, I'd never harm a hair on her pretty little head!” As if to prove his point, Julian lightly kissed her forehead. She tried to dodge his lips, but they collided with her skin before she could duck. “Quite frankly, Jolly, the fact that you would hurt her is rather disturbing!”

  “So I won't be punished?” Lettie asked.

  Julian laughed at the question. “No. No! What gave you that idea? Of course I'm going to punish you, just not in the way Jolly wants me to. I've already decided your punishment. Well... you might think it's a punishment, but for me, it's a reward.”

  “Dare I ask what that means?” As she awaited his answer, Lettie preemptively winced.

  Before Jolly could ask questions, Julian rushed down the hall, dragging Lettie behind him. He already knew his first mate wouldn't approve of his leniency, and he didn't care to hear it.

  When Julian didn't respond, Lettie asked, “Where are we going?”

  “To my bedroom.”

  His answer made her stomach drop. “What?”

  “Don't worry, I'm not planning anything too nefarious.” A moment later, they arrived at the captain's quarters. Once inside, Julian pulled a pair of handcuffs from a drawer and cuffed one of her hands. “I usually use these for... recreational purposes. This is the first time I've used these handcuffs on a prisoner.”

  “Prisoner,” Lettie stoically repeated the word. “Is that what I am now? I've gone from being a guest to a prisoner?”

  “Well, you were very naughty. But in a way, I'm glad you misbehaved, because now I have an excuse to keep you here.”

  When he fastened the other side of the handcuffs to his own wrist, Lettie gasped. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm keeping you with me. You don't get lashes, you can't misbehave, and you can get to know me better. Everyone wins.” When Julian left his room, he pulled her along with him.

  “I think I'd rather be flogged.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No.” Lettie's lips dipped into a frown as Captain Featherstone led her to the deck. “But how long am I going to be stuck on you?”

  “Until I tire of it. It could be three days from now, or it could be an hour from now. Of course, I'll uncuff you when you sleep... or if you need to visit a chamber pot. Personally, I find chamber pots to be a bit too fancy. I prefer a nice, large bucket myself. Bucket and chuck it... those are my words to live by.”

  “Can we please not have this conversation?” Lettie whined.

  “Well then, what would you like to talk about, love?” Julian returned to his lounge chair on the deck. When he sat, she nearly toppled onto his lap. Grumbling, Lettie pulled back her arm and sat on the floor beside him. “Would you like to talk about how glorious my hair is?”

  Lettie sneered. It was thick and brown—and it looked quite soft—but there was nothing particularly special about his hair. “No.”

  “Would you like to discuss your undeniable, thriving attraction to me?”

  “I'm not attracted to you.”

  Julian clasped a hand to his heart. “You wound me. Your words are worse than the lashes I spared you from.” The captain laid on his side and, with a grin on his lips, he gazed at her face. “Let's talk about this fiance of yours.”

  Lettie sighed and rolled her eyes. “Let's not.”

  As always, Julian was undeterred by her negativity. “What's his name and what does he do? I should know something about my rival, don't you think?”

  “His name's George,” she said. “He's in the Baltmoor Aerial Militia, like me.”

  “Fascinating! I bet you outrank him, don't you?”

  Lettie nodded slowly. “I do. But I'm sure I wouldn't have been given so many opportunities if my father wasn't the admiral.”

  Julian clicked his tongue at her. “Now now... give yourself some credit! You're very skilled, I'm sure. You can't blame everything on nepotism.”

  “It's true, though. I'm a woman. I was the first woman to be given a chance.” Lettie's eyes were dark and sorrowful. “After you stole my airship and captured my men, I'm sure I'll be the last woman to be given such a chance.”

  “Well... that's a shame.”

  “You sound so sympathetic,” Lettie groaned.

  “I am! Even though I won, and I like winning, I can still have sympathy for the woman who lost, can't I?”

  “Right. Sure.” In her mind, Lettie imagined herself boxing the grin from Julian's lips. They were discussing her downfall. His smile was hardly appropriate.

  “It was nothing personal, Miss Jordan,” Julian assured her. “I was just doing what I do best.”

  “Being an ass?” she suggested.

  “No. Stealing airships.” Julian's grin widened, which only made her more frustrated. “Although being an ass is also my specialty.”

  Fourteen

  “How long do I have to wait?” Loreina complained to Harriot. As they strolled through the garden, arm-in-arm, the clouds were appropriately dark. They fit her mood. “Now that we have a foothold in the palace, what's taking so long?”

  “Patience, Queen Loreina... patience,” Harriot tried to soothe her. “We must wait for Gareth to arrive, and then we--�
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  “But you don't understand what it's like!” a wailing Loreina interrupted. “My husband is ill, and I didn't even have to poison him this time. Still, he has his good days, and those good days are what I dread the most. Sometimes he gets... randy. Do you have any idea what it's like to have an eighty-year-old man sliding all over your body?”

  “I can't say I do.” Under his breath, Harriot added, “thank God...”

  “Well, you better hope you never do, because it's awful. He has wrinkles in places I wish I'd never seen. I realize I'm hardly a young woman myself, Harriot, but the man has over thirty years on me! Thirty! And he looks even older. And he smells. The man's an emperor, so you'd expect him to bathe, but he's surprisingly foul! The smell is so offensive, it's as if he spends the better part of his day in a barn!”

  “I'm very sorry to hear that, Loreina, but you need to put your trust in Gareth. We have a plan, but the plan cannot be rushed. Only Gareth will know when everything's prepared. Don't despair.”

  “Blah blah blah. I'm not here for your platitudes.” Loreina swatted his arm and rolled her eyes. She tried to gauge his expression, but when only half of his face was visible, it was impossible to guess what he was thinking.

  “Then why are you here, Your Majesty?” Harriot asked.

  “Because you're a friendly face... in a manner of speaking. That is... if I could see your face, I'm sure it would be friendly.” She was actually intimidated by him, in large part because of the mask. In no way did Thomas Harriot look friendly. To remedy that, Loreina plucked a tulip and stuck it on the brim of Harriot's bowler hat. The flower made him look a bit less grumpy and a bit more approachable. And he must not have noticed her putting it there, because he didn't remove it. “Harriot, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Anything, Your Highness.” Harriot bowed his head in fealty, which almost dislodged the flower.

  “There's a man in the dungeon. Robert Small is his name. He somehow discovered my true identity, and I believe he might have shared that information with others,” Loreina said. “In other words, he's a snitch who needs to be punished. Because of him, my whereabouts and intentions might be discovered by my daughter, and that would be a tragedy.”