by April Hill
“I was fortunate enough to fall into the hands of a kind-hearted second officer named Hadley, who saw to it that I kept up my studies, remained clean in deed, if not in thought, and whipped me soundly when I needed it. He was the finest man I’ve ever known, and if I ever have a son who chooses to follow the sea, I’d wish for him a teacher and friend as good as Jeremiah Hadley.
“Then, when I was almost fifteen, Father decided that I’d had enough of life at sea and wrote me to come home at once, to finish my education. I, of course, refused to comply. Instead, I lied about my age, signed on with a brigantine bound for California, and rounded the horn for the first time that summer. By the time poor Father caught up with me, I think that even he knew I would never make a lawyer. Still, he dragged me off the ship when we landed at Charleston, beat my rump rare, and told me that I’d broken my poor mother’s heart. As it turned out, when we got back to Boston, Mother took my side, and within two weeks, I had hired on a schooner going to Dublin.
“I entered the navy when the war seemed imminent, and was commissioned just after the rebels fired on Fort Sumter. I resigned the navy two years after the war ended, and got my first commercial ship soon thereafter.”
“Is it a good life?” she asked curiously. “It seems a difficult one.”
Ethan sighed. “Sometimes,” he said quietly, “it’s both.”
They had almost finished dinner when the restaurant’s proprietor approached them with distressing news. A notorious sea-going criminal by the name of Gilbert Wallace had raided the coastal villages just to the north, and several men had been killed in the brutal attacks.
“They’re warning all the ships moored here to be on guard,” the frightened owner reported, “and to post extra sentries. Wallace is a murderer who sees himself as a pirate. He’s struck before and done great harm. He has with him a band of ruthless men who have raped and kidnapped, up and down the coast.”
Ethan’s face turned grim. He paid the bill quickly, and then rushed Emily out of the small inn.
“I know Wallace well,” he explained, as they walked quickly back to the hotel. “We were midshipman together briefly, before he was court-martialed for desertion. He managed to escape the hangman, and went south. He ran slaves from Cuba before the war, and acted as a privateer for the Confederacy after we blockaded their ports. He’s a dangerous and clever man, whose habit is to run north to the far coast of Greenland when he’s pursued. He sails a tall clipper he calls the Dark Moon. She’s fast and well-armed, and the provincials here haven’t a chance in hell of capturing her.”
“Is the Liza in danger?” Emily looked about her in the darkness, and took his arm.
“Not unless he knows that I’m aboard her,” McAllister said. “And probably not in a large, fortified town like Louisbourg. Wallace is the sort of coward who prefers to do his thieving and raping in small, undefended villages, rather than taking on crews of able seamen. He’ll raid the locals until he’s gotten everything he wants and then run for cover the way he always does. Still, I’d much prefer that the Liza not be taken. It doesn’t look good to the owners.” He squeezed her hand and grinned.
“Are you certain?” she asked nervously.
“I know the man, Emily. Even if he’s still in the vicinity, he’ll be gone within three days, long before the government can get a frigate up here to track him down. All we need to do is keep our eyes open and stay close to town. I’ll increase the watch while the Liza’s repairs are being finished, and with any luck, we’ll sail for Halifax within a few days. In the meantime, we’ll need to be watchful, but continue with our plans. Tomorrow, we’ll be off to visit your governess, and the day afterward, I’m dining with an old friend at her home. I’d like you to accompany me, if you would.”
“A woman?” Emily asked, suspiciously.
“Yes. Her name is Jane Hanover. Her home is just a short walk from the hotel, actually. I haven’t called here for over three years, and I’m very anxious to see her, again. I believe you’ll like Jane. She’s a thoroughly charming woman.”
In the darkness, Emily scowled.
“Yes, Ethan, I’m sure that she’s quite charming.”
When they arrived back at their hotel, Emily undressed demurely and slipped into her small cot. The cot was just a few feet from the larger bed where Ethan slept, yet he had made no overtures to her of even a vaguely romantic nature. An inexperienced Emily had no idea what she could do to “inflame his passions,” as her low novels described such things. She also noticed, with some irritation, that he had not insisted that she take the more luxurious accommodation of the wide bed, although she grudgingly accepted the truth that his long legs and sturdy build would have made the tinier bed very unappealing. For all his recently demonstrated affection towards her, Captain McAllister evidently had no intention of surrendering his comfort to a mere cabin boy.
After a night in the cramped and sagging cot, her mood was less than pleasant as they began the short carriage ride to Margaret’s cottage, and even Ethan seemed distracted and irritable.
“This closed carriage is uncomfortable,” she complained. “And hot. I told you we should have taken the open one.”
“Stop pouting,” he said sharply. “Should there be a problem, a closed carriage is safer. Besides, there’s nothing I can do about it, now.”
“You could have changed carriages,” Emily whined. “If you’d listened when I–”
Without warning, he pulled her halfway across his lap, threw her skirt up, and delivered a flurry of fairly serious swats to the seat of her drawers with his broad hand. The thin drawers provided scant protection, and the impromptu spanking stung badly, turning her soft cheeks a cheery pink within seconds. Surprised by the assault, Emily squealed in protest and pounded at his legs with her fists. It was over quickly, and he dumped her unceremoniously back on her side of the seat with a final stinging smack.
“What was that for?” she yelped, rubbing herself vigorously.
“Because I felt like it,” he replied grimly. “And because I hate whining. Please remember that in the future, and do not whine!”
“I wasn’t whining, “ she whined.
McAllister sighed. “You were whining, you’re still whining, and you’re in danger of a genuine hiding if you don’t stop whining.”
Emily rubbed her seat again. “Well, you’re certainly in a grouchy mood, on this fine afternoon,” she observed. “Tell me, Captain, do you often get this way ?”
McAllister turned to her, and finally smiled. “Frequently, “ he said. “Why do you think I haven’t married?”
“I had hoped it was because you were waiting for me,” she said sweetly.
“Do you like children?” he asked suddenly.
“Only when there’s nothing else to eat in the house,” Emily replied solemnly, then laughed. “I’m sorry, but that’s one of my brother Caleb’s favorite jokes, I’m afraid. And yes, Ethan, I like children. My mother assures me that children are a woman’s only reward in life.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?” he asked.
“Perhaps not now. But I did, for most of my life. Being a thoroughly awful child myself, I could see no point in them at all. You need to ask Margaret how terrible I was.”
“I hardly need to ask Margaret,” he said. “But I would like to know how she managed not to beat you senseless, or simply drown you.”
Emily sniffed. “Well, the two of you can sit and have endless cups of tea, if you wish, and exchange horrid stories about me, while I practice my feminine wiles on poor young Timothy.”
The carriage stopped at a charming stone cottage surrounded by a low stone wall, both of which were covered in budding spring flowers.
“Isn’t it lovely?” she cried. “Have you ever seen a spot more peaceful?”
McAllister looked around. “Do you suppose dear Margaret needed all this peace and quiet to recover from you?”
Emily stuck her tongue out at him, then leaped from the carriage and hurrie
d to knock on Margaret’s bright blue front door.
The visit with Margaret was delightful—at first. After she had introduced both of them to Timothy, her painfully shy young nephew, the former governess set out pastries and tea, and fawned over Ethan for close to an hour, shamelessly pointing out Emily’s finer points to a much amused McAllister. Finally, tiring of the ongoing effort to marry her off, Emily left Ethan in the governess’s clutches, and joined Timothy in the cottage’s small library, where he had gone to escape his beloved aunt’s ceaseless match-making. After she had chatted with Tim for a bit, Emily set about perusing the shelves, where she had just discovered a large collection of novels and biographies. She had not read a book, nor had the time to do so, since leaving Nantucket, and had sorely missed the simple pleasure of reading. When the obviously smitten young man offered to lend her any book she wanted, Emily thumbed eagerly through several, while listening with one ear to the dwindling conversation in the adjoining room. Margaret was still extolling Emily’s beauty and grace, while Ethan, close to nodding off, had begun to respond responded with an occasional grunt.
“Emily was such a lovely little thing when she was a girl, Captain. With that beautiful golden-red hair, and such a spirited disposition. Everywhere we went, everyone simply adored her. The cry would go up and down the street. ‘Emily Fowler is coming this way! Emily Fowler is coming!’ You wouldn’t believe what a commotion she caused. And when she grew older, all the finest young men in Nantucket came begging for her attentions. She could have married any one of them! My dear little Emily was an absolute legend on the island.”
“Yes, Miss Duncan, I have often heard that said of her,” Ethan remarked dryly.
“Have you a wife at home in Boston, Captain?” Margaret asked coyly, pouring him a fifth cup of peppermint tea and dropping six more butter cookies on his saucer. “And children, perhaps?”
“No, Miss Duncan, I have never married, being rarely at home. With my frequent long absences at sea, I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a promising husband.”
“Well, of course, one must choose one’s own way in life, but I have heard it said that the happiest men are those who marry, wouldn’t you agree? I believe I’ve read somewhere that married men live a great deal longer, as well! Something to do with their livers, I think. I never married, but dear Timothy is my pride and joy, and I hope to see him wed very soon, so that he, too, can reap the benefits of a blissfully happy marriage. More tea, Captain? And do, please, try another of these yummy cookies!”
They rode home tired, stuffed with cucumber sandwiches and butter cookies.
“She’s a lovely woman, your Miss Duncan,” he observed. “Although I believe there may be something wrong with her mind.”
“Ethan! What a dreadful thing to say! Why would you think it?”
“Because she’s under the impression that you are a sweet-natured and gentle girl, that’s why. I think she may be growing some powerful intoxicant in that quaint little garden of hers, that has thoroughly clouded her judgment.”
Emily scowled. “Why are you being so rude? Don’t think I didn’t notice how adroitly you turned aside all her well-meaning questions about marriage. Are you so terrified, Captain, that I’ve set my cap for you?”
“Have you set your cap for me, Emily?” he asked quietly.
“Of course not! You have no manners at all, you ignore me or treat me brutally, and constantly remind me how poor you are! I admit that you are an interesting person, at times, but why in the name of heaven would I wish to become attached to a person of such low habits and with such poor prospects?”
He yawned. “I can’t think of a reason in the world, Emily. Not a one.”
That night, Emily tried on the one decent dress she had left, brushing the wrinkles out of the rose-colored velvet as best she could. She pulled the matching bonnet from her battered bag and studied it. It was covered in small bows and childish pink velvet roses, and though she tried to squash it back into shape, the final effect was not what she had hoped for. Moreover, the corset she had gone without for several weeks now seemed to bite mercilessly into her flesh, leaving her unable to breathe properly. When she looked in the mirror, a wrinkled frump with messy hair looked back at her. Emily groaned. Tomorrow, outfitted in this awful pink dress, she was expected to dine with a probably beautiful woman named Jane Hanover. And unless Emily’s female instincts were wrong, the mysterious Miss Hanover was her primary competition for Ethan McAllister, the man for whom she had definitely set her own cap.
The next afternoon was unseasonably warm, and as they walked alongside the harbor and turned into the cobbled street that led to the Hanover residence, Emily was hot and annoyed, and quick to find reasons to delay their arrival. The ugly velvet dress scratched and smelled slightly of mildew. She stopped for several moments, adjusted her bonnet, and retied its crumpled bow. A few moments later, she stopped, again, and pointed across the bay, “I can see the Liza, “she cried. “Just there, Ethan, beyond that larger boat! Can you see her, now?”
Ethan sighed. It was the fourth time they had stopped.
“Yes, Emily, I can see her. She is precisely where we left her, three days ago, and in the same place you pointed out to me five minutes ago. Come along. If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late for supper, which is not only rude, but bad for my digestion—and my temper.”
Emily began to play with the bow, once more.
“Well, I, for one, am not in the least hungry. And could you please explain to me why we should waste an entire afternoon and evening at the home of someone I neither know, nor whose acquaintance I wish to make.”
“Because the lady is a dear friend of mine, and because I have asked you to accompany me, there. It’s supper, Emily, not a public execution.”
“This lady, as you refer to her, is a former paramour of yours, am I correct?”
Ethan stopped in his tracks. “Where on Earth did you get such an idea? Jane Hanover is a good friend of long standing, and nothing more. Her late husband and I were boys together, and I see her whenever I am on the Cape. We will have an excellent meal, enjoy two or three hours of pleasant conversation, say thank you, and leave.”
Emily sat down on a low wall, and removed her shoe.
“What is it, now?” he growled.
“I have a stone in my shoe.”
Ethan knelt down, took the shoe and looked it over carefully, then slipped it back on her foot.
“It’s gone. Now, may we please go on?”
A few steps further on, Emily stopped again, and looked about for a place to sit.
“Now what ?”
“The stone is still there, and it hurts dreadfully. I simply can’t walk any further on it.”
Ethan pulled out his watch and looked at the time. Grumbling, he removed her shoe, and once again, found nothing.
“Your shoe is fine, Emily. There is nothing in it except your foot.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “I can’t walk any further. I’m extremely sorry, but you’ll have to go to supper without me. I’ll wait here.” She glanced around suspiciously. “I suppose it will be safe enough—until dark, at any rate. Please offer my apologies to your good friend, and explain to her that you have left me alone on the docks, at the mercy of scurvy-ridden wharf rats and God only knows how many others of low moral character. Perhaps your old friend, Mr. Wallace, will turn up with his band of cutthroats.” She limped painfully over to a large box and perched uncomfortably on the edge.
Ethan came over and sat beside her.
“You have just sailed into dangerous waters, Emily. If you change course in exactly fifteen seconds, remove your bottom from this wall, and follow me up this last hill to the Hanover home, all will be well. If, on the other hand, you choose another course…”
Emily sniffed. “Please don’t try to bully me, Ethan.”
“To put it another way, dear Emily. If your manner remains as unpleasant as it has been up until now…”
“My manner, as you
put it, is precisely as it was when we sailed from Nantucket, and has served me very well, thank you. Perhaps, Ethan, you are still unaccustomed to a lady with spirit, and a will of her own.”
McAllister smiled. “And perhaps, Emily, you are still unaccustomed to dealing with someone more than willing to paddle that same lady’s spirited ass until she howls.”
“That kind of idle threat is unworthy of a gentleman.”
“Ah, yes, but as we both know, I am not a gentleman, and that was not an idle threat, but a sincere promise. Now, may we please stop this nonsense, and continue on to Jane’s?”
Emily stopped in the middle of the street and glared at him, her hands on her hips. “Now that I have given the matter some thought, I believe that I would rather leap into the bay than go anywhere at all with you!”
McAllister sighed wearily. “Emily, I am tired, and ill from eating all those damned cookies, and we are already late for what will be a splendid dinner, if we ever get there! Please, come along.”
As he reached for her arm, Emily pulled stubbornly away and moved to the edge of the jetty. “I will throw myself off this wharf if you so much as touch me!”
“Let me assure you, Emily,” Ethan said grimly, “That if you continue this … this childish tantrum, I shall do a great deal more than merely touch you. I will take great pleasure in throwing you into the bay myself, and then walloping your spoiled backside right here, before all of these fine ladies and gentlemen. I would suggest that you not test me any further. It has been a long and difficult day.”
A small crowd of fisherman and dockhands had gathered now, watching the quarrel, and the captain’s threat was met with several loud cheers. Annoyed by the unwelcome and apparently unsympathetic audience, Emily cast a haughty look at the crowd, then leaned down, carefully removed her shoe, and began to inspect it meticulously, ignoring both McAllister and the group of onlookers.
