by Abby Ayles
Jackie's eyes were now as big as teacups and Lord Bellfourd smiled in pleasure. He was a fantastic storyteller, indeed.
“Of course, we opened fire on her determined to see her sunk or back in British hands. The battle was a fierce one. The sound of cannon fire was deafening, but there was no way for such a heavy ship to escape. Finally, we boarded her, myself included. With pistol and sword in hand, we finally took control of the ship.”
He paused for dramatic effect. It wasn’t lost on his audience.
“We learned that the ship had sailed from a Spanish port set for England. It was filled with rice and spices from India. With the French pirates under control, we took back the ship. Unfortunately, the captain and first mate had been among the first executed by the pirates. The ship had no one to lead the few sailors remaining back home.
The commanding officer, Captain Johnson, ordered myself and a few men of my choosing to stay on the merchant ship and see that she sailed safely home. He would navigate ahead, with the speed of the Queen Elizabeth, to prepare for our arrival. You see, the merchant ship was severely damaged from the fight, and assistance would be needed upon her arrival to port. It was my first command as captain of a vessel and I couldn’t have been more excited about it.
We watched the Queenie sail on ahead and made ready ourselves, making any repairs as was needed. One thing that was particularly worrisome was a hole in the port side just at the water line. Water had been spilling into her. First, we stopped the hole as best as possible, fashioning a patch with one of the smaller sails. Then we began pumping out the water.
All seemed right and we set out on our way. By the middle of the night, though, we started to hear a curious groaning from below deck. Now, all ships groan and each makes their own unique symphony, so we paid no mind to it. By morning, however, we noticed that the boards of the deck were moving. They had separated and swelled away from each other and began to sway with the rocking of the ship.
I thought, at first, that the sail had not held in plugging the hole and went to inspect it over the side of the vessel. Much to my surprise, I could not see any portion of the sail in the early morning light. We had sunk so deep that it was entirely underwater now. I had my men go back down to inspect the cargo and see if it was again flooded with water. If we needed to, we would pump water day and night to keep it afloat.
Though some water was dripping through the pressure of the canvas, it wasn't nearly enough to be flooding and weighing down the ship. Then I came down myself to inspect what could be the cause. I realized then that the bags of rice butted up to that particular wall of the ship. Do you know what happens to rice when it touches water?”
Jackie shook her head excitedly.
“Well, it soaks up that water and expands bigger, much like bread soaking up milk. Even though we had stopped up the plug well enough, all the bags of rice had been flooded with water and now were swelling and expanding; literally weighing the ship down and pushing on the walls of the hull.
I called all my men down and began to have them haul the bags of rice away from the walls, up on the deck and over the side. It was better to be rid of the cargo than to lose the whole ship, you see. We worked for hours, carrying fifty-pound bags on our shoulders up and over the side of the boat.
After a whole day of this, we seemed to be making no progress. The ship was still swelling under the weight of all the rice expanding below. The vessel had already sunk so low into the water that one could almost touch it from the deck.
It was then we discovered something much more sinister. Under one of the bags of rice, along the haul, was a second hole that had been spilling in and pouring on to the bags of rice. So low was it, though, that all the water was soaked up before it even made it out past the piles of grain.
I determined, at this point, that there was no hope to save the ship. We had to abandon ship in the middle of the sea with little hope of being rescued. I piled my men, the merchant sailors, and the imprisoned French pirates onto three lifeboats. I had been captain for only twenty-four hours before having to give my post to the depths of the sea.”
“What happened to you?” Isabella asked, forgetting herself. She was so enraptured by the tale, she had forgotten he was telling the story for the benefit of Jackie, not herself. She blushed, “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be,” Lord Bellfourd said with a soft smile. He turned back to Jackie to finish the story but now glanced at Miss Watts from time to time. “We were in our lifeboats for three days. We tied them together to keep from losing each other. I had taken the boat with the prisoners to keep them from revolting. On the night of the third day, a great storm came and blew us around like a cork in a bottle all night long. By morning, we were still together but had no idea where we were. Did we get pushed back toward France? Had we blown south toward the tip of Spain? Or perhaps, did Poseidon himself give us this storm to hurry us on home?”
“Which one was it, Uncle?”
“France, sadly,” he said, to both of our audible gasps. “We had just spotted the coast, maybe twenty miles in the distance, when a French ship made its way from a port, no doubt spying us.
Fearing capture ourselves, I did the only thing I could think of- I cut my boat with the prisoners loose, hopped on a boat with my own men, and rowed for our very lives in the opposite direction. Certainly, our only hope was that the French would take their own men and leave us be.
We weren’t entirely sure we would be so lucky when out of the west came Queenie herself, back for another round of patrol. They had expected us to be in port with the merchant ship by then, and were surprised to find us floating so close to France in nothing but little row boats. They scooped us up and we were again in the safety of Queen Elizabeth’s belly.”
“And so, for one day you were captain of a ship?” Isabella said with awe.
“Well, technically four, because I captained the rowboats as well,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Both girls giggled at this.
“The commanding officer of the Queenie so appreciated the care I took of the men on the ship, that he recommended me for captain on our next port call. A year later, it was made official.”
“I can imagine so. To keep such a clear head in the midst of one travesty after the other,” Isabella said in awe.
“Did you find any mermaids?” Jackie asked on an entirely different train of thought.
“Loads,” Lord Bellfourd said, standing and helping little Jackie out of the grass. “Only you had to stay away from them. They would sing you into a trance until you sailed your boat onto unseen rocks.”
“Mermaids don’t do that,” Jackie said quite sure of herself.
“Oh, pardon me. You’re right. They were sirens,” he said, offering a hand to Miss Watts as well.
“Sirens, you say,” Isabella retorted skeptically, taking his hand.
“Yes, I always seem to find myself entranced by beautiful women raised under the influence of the seas.”
Isabella blushed immensely as he pierced her with his eyes.
Finally, he turned to little Jackie and whispered, “The green-eyed ones are, by far, the hardest to ignore.”
She giggled, “Uncle Christian, I think you are making that up. There are no such things as sirens.”
“Oh, yes there are. You must ask your governess to tell you all about them next week,” he said with a wicked grin in Isabella’s direction.
Chapter 10
Isabella had no idea what Lord Bellfourd had meant on that warm Sunday by the pond. Indeed, he was the teasing sort, but his words distinctly bordered on flirtation.
Before she really had time to address the matter, or even think it over much herself, Lord Bellfourd was off for London. In the end, she surmised it was for the best.
Lord Bellfourd was dashingly handsome with his sunny blonde hair and tall stature. She didn’t imagine he would last the season without finding at least one lady who would be more than willing to attach herself to the f
uture Duke of Wintercrest.
Isabella told herself once that happened, Lord Bellfourd would turn his teasing attentions elsewhere, and she wouldn't have to ponder the confusing emotions she felt when he was near.
“Come, Jackie. Today, for our nature walk, we will be picking wildflowers in three colors of your choosing. We will be pressing them into a pattern for your arithmetic today.”
“Oui, Miss Watts,” little Jaqueline said as she picked up the woven basket they had become accustomed to taking on their walks.
Now that Isabella had been teaching her pupil for just over three weeks, Jaqueline was utterly fluent in understanding English and did her best to solely speak the language. Isabella was proud of how far she had come, and how quickly.
With spring now in full bloom around them, Isabella chose to extend their nature walks to much longer than the cold weather had allowed before.
Often, Isabella would bring a book with her, and they would find themselves sitting by the same pond where Lord Bellfourd had taken them before his departure. They would often spend an hour or two reading and making clover flower crowns.
Today, however, they would be traveling in the opposite direction of the pond, to a small meadow Isabella had discovered on one of her explorations of the property.
She found herself now wholly comfortable in the country life, more than she had ever imagined possible. Though she wasn’t sure she would ever be acclimatized to the chilly weather that seemed to persist as spring marched on, Isabella was willing to ignore it on account of the beautiful landscape that she never seemed to find an end to.
“Aunt Abigail!” Jaqueline exclaimed as she exited the school room.
Isabella gave a respectful curtsy to the lady as she too stepped out of the schoolroom.
“What are you off to do today, my sweet Jackie?” Lady Abigail asked of her niece.
“We are going to pick some flowers. Miss Watts is going to show me how to press them.”
“How lovely,” Lady Abigail said.
She had evidently come to the west wing of the estate to see the child.
“Would you like to join us, Lady Abigail?” Isabella asked.
“I would like that very much, if you don’t mind, of course.”
“Not at all. Both, Jackie and I, would enjoy the added company. Mrs. Murray has a bit of a cough and will be staying indoors today.”
“Oh, how terrible,” Lady Abigail replied, looking around to the rooms behind. “I hope she isn’t too ill.”
“Not at all,” Isabella said reassuringly. “She assured me it was just a small cough and she would be right as rain in a day or two.”
“Oh good,” Lady Abigail said with a sigh of relief. It was clear she cared deeply for her old nurse. “If you would wait just a moment for me, I will change into more appropriate shoes.” She motioned to the silken slippers under the hem of her cotton dress.
Ten minutes later Lady Abigail met her two companions in the foyer, booted adequately for the adventure. She had a rosy glow of excitement to her cheeks.
It had been so disappointing for Lady Abigail when her brother had gone on to London without her, that for the first few days after his departure, she could do nothing but sit and feel melancholy. Isabella was happy to see the sharp look back in her blue eyes as they made their way out.
For much of the journey, the two ladies walked side by side in silence on the soft dirt path while Jackie skipped ahead. Once they were entirely out of view of the manor, Lady Abigail slid back her summer bonnet with a sigh of relief.
Her vibrant red hair looked almost brown in the grey shadows of the dreary sky. Isabella imagined her a great beauty at a London dance hall, her hair genuinely shining as it reflected red rays off the candlelight.
“Did you attend many events in London, Miss Watts?” Lady Abigail suddenly asked, as if reading Isabella's thoughts.
“I wouldn’t say an excessive amount, but perhaps three or four a week during the height of the season.”
Isabella could tell that Lady Abigail was again dwelling on all that she felt she was missing.
“But surely you have gone in years past? And you have many years yet ahead of you to go.”
“I was able to travel with mother last year for the season. I was only fifteen at the time and mother didn’t let me attend many events because of my age.”
“I’m sure things will be better for you next year.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Lady Abigail said sullenly.
“You must have some friends you can write to, to pass the time? Of course, you are always welcome to join us, too,” Isabella added.
“I do have a cousin that I correspond with. She is a few years older than me. Probably about your age. It is my mother’s sister’s family.”
“Was that who you were visiting before we met?”
“Yes. She is very close and dear to me. She is in London for the season and promised to write me all the details. I fear that will only sour my disposition even more.”
The path opened to a clearing and the subject was dropped. Isabella laid out a blanket to sit on that she had carried in her own basket while Jaqueline pranced around the meadow like a fawn.
“Don’t forget to find three different colors,” Isabella called out to her student. “We will be using the flowers for our math lesson today,” Isabella explained to Lady Abigail.
“Oh, how very smart to incorporate some lessons into the excursions.”
“I know it is not the most popular method of education. I, myself, was trained as most children, with memorization and recitation. I had one particular teacher, though, Mrs. Wentworth. She always seemed to find a way to relate our studies to the world around us or even tales she told. I found that, in this manner, I was able to remember my lessons better.”
“I would have certainly loved such a teacher,” Lady Abigail agreed. “My governess was from London, like yourself. She, however, was very somber and talked so dully that I would struggle not to fall asleep.” Lady Abigail giggled at the memory of her governess.
“One time, just before Christian left for his officer commission, he found a small brown mouse that a barn cat had caught. He stuck it in the governess’ chamber pot! She screamed something awful, waking the whole nursery in the process. I don’t think I had ever heard her speak above a soft whisper up until that point.”
“Truly?” Isabella said surprised to hear that Lord Bellfourd would do such a thing. “And you heard her scream all the way across the west wing?”
“What do you mean? The governess’ room was just next to the school room. Is that not where you are staying?”
“Oh,” Isabella said not realizing that she had been treated differently than the governess’ in the past. “Um, no. I am just above in the far tower.”
“All the way over there? Why, that is an awful distance away from the rest of the household.”
“I rather enjoy the room. It is a bit of a walk, but I find it to be good exercise. The window overlooks a beautiful view of the side of the estate as well.”
“I shall talk to Mrs. Peterson about it, none the less. It is silly to make you stay so far away. I find her to be an utterly ridiculous woman.”
Lady Abigail spoke as she twirled a lock of her auburn hair that hung to the side of her beautiful plaiting.
“Do you know, just last week, I heard her scolding my lady’s maid?” Lady Abigail continued in her comfortable conversational tone.
“Nancy was just trying to be helpful when the poor chambermaid spilled a box of coal. Mrs. Peterson first yelled at the chambermaid for being so clumsy and then at Nancy for helping her! She didn’t know that I was just in the other room in the bath when she did so. I can't stand the way that she speaks to the other staff, always telling them to stay in their place.”
“She is harsh in her manner sometimes, but shouldn’t the job of the housekeeper be to maintain order, especially in such a large estate?”
“I understand that. Of course
I do,” Lady Abigail agreed. “Things just didn’t used to be so strict. Father has always been very prim and proper, and James was much like him, but Father really left Christian and me to our own devices. Things were much more comfortable and, honestly, happier here."
"I remember,” Lady Abigail continued after a moment, “one summer, Mother had accompanied us on a walk after school. It was just the governess, Nursie, mother, and I. We were by the main road and found some of the kitchen maids struggling to carry baskets home. There was to be a large dinner party that night and the wagon they were riding in had been damaged. They were struggling to get the goods back to the manor in time for the meal. My mother,” Lady Abigail continued with a smile, “simply grabbed a basket and beckoned for me to do the same. She always said we are all God’s creation and, as such, should treat each other with the same love and respect that He would bestow upon ourselves.”
“What a beautiful thought," Isabella encouraged.
They sat and watched Jaqueline for a few minutes and Isabella considered the story that had just been told to her. It wasn’t a typical upbringing for the daughter of a duke. Usually, with such high status came a self-proclaimed distinction between any lesser than themselves.
From the few weeks that Isabella had already spent at Wintercrest Manor, she could see that such separation had not been the case here. Lady Wintercrest seemed, not only warm and caring to her own children, something not often a trait of an elegant lady, but from what Lady Abigail had just expounded, she shared that grace and kindness to all around her.
Chapter 11
As the weeks continued, Lady Abigail often visited Jaqueline during school. She also started to invite Isabella to tea in her private sitting room in the late afternoon.
Isabella wouldn’t say no to such an invitation. She knew it was given purely out of loneliness and couldn’t fault Lady Abigail for it. Often, Her Grace would join them in the afternoon.
