Captain Andrew's Flying Christmas

by Heather Hiestand

“The color is appalling.” The time had come to cast off the role of servant and become a free woman again. Could she act the part convincingly?

  “No time to dye it.” The girl shrugged her thin shoulders.

  Hatchet played maid while Linet took off her gown and replaced it with the new one.

  “It washes out your complexion,” Hatchet said, grinning.

  “Why is that a good thing?”

  “You aren’t nearly so pretty in it. The captain wouldn’t look at you twice.”

  Linet hid her smile. Did Andrew find her as intriguing as she found him? “What makes you think he’s looked at me once?”

  The girl’s lips set into a pout. Could she have a crush on the dashing, if treacherous, Erasmus Andrew? Linet supposed that if you were on his side of right and wrong, he would be the kind of powerful male any girl would dream of.

  “How old are you?”

  “Fourteen.”

  Linet stared. “I didn’t think you a day over twelve.”

  Hatchet lifted her blouse. Linet caught a quick glimpse of tight binding around her chest before the girl tucked it into her trousers again, but not until she’d seen the flare of hips and a softly rounded belly. Yes, she was all woman, but hiding it.

  “Have you no protector?”

  “I was orphaned in the Two-Day Battle.”

  “I haven’t heard of that.”

  “That’s because you left Hastings. It was fierce, between us Owlers and the Blockaders. We lost. Captain Andrew Senior died with my father next to him.” She scowled. “My mother’s leg was hit and she died of an infection soon after. I couldn’t save her, but when the captain’s son came home he said my family had always served alongside his so I was welcome.”

  Linet winced. “I’m sorry about your mother. I lost my own about your age. Was the Shakespear destroyed in the battle?”

  “Yes. Four months ago. About a month later, Captain Andrew found the Christmas in a warehouse in Eastbourne, all hidden like.”

  “I wonder who hid it. I’m glad the Blockaders didn’t capture my father’s flagship.”

  Hatchet sniffed. “Doesn’t matter to me, because we had an airship again. The captain outfitted it with anything the crew could find and we took off for Paris to restore our fortunes. No idea why he decided to come for you. We were doing fine without the Fennas. Fashion and spirits. It’s a lucrative trade.”

  “I know. I was raised on its proceeds, just like you.”

  “I remember you and your sister,” Hatchet said. “The two princesses. What happened to all your pretty clothes?”

  “I left them all behind. Everything was red and green. Even if I’d been able to pack a bag when I fled, my clothes weren’t, well, normal.”

  “I wish we could find them,” Hatchet said. “I remember a little jacket you had, like the captain’s. It would look a treat on me.”

  “I’m sure it would.” But Linet doubted Andrew saw the girl as a future co-captain. She was half his size, for one thing.

  When Linet had pinned her hair into a bun and tucked it into a smart black velvet cap and pulled a color-matched wool shawl around her shoulders, she made her way back to the bridge. Andrew looked weary around the eyes and had a fresh smudge on her father’s jacket, but he still grinned when he saw her.

  She didn’t know if the grin was appreciative or he found her half-mourning, high-fashion gown hilarious. She lifted her chin in defiance.

  He took a healthy sip from a steaming tin cup. “We’re going to hover behind The Fortune of War Public House on Pie Corner. Owlers are welcome there. You’ll walk through and then stroll to Newgate Prison, which is nearby.”

  “Alone?” What if there were automen on the street this early? Her papers showed she was meant to be at work at this time of day. Would the forged permit be enough to save her?

  “Yes. Safest that way. Just a respectable woman out on a bit of holiday business.” He handed her a small cloth bag.

  She opened it and discovered a pair of eyeglasses.

  “Give these to Terrwyn.” He pointed to one of the sides. “Look here. You can pop out the screw.”

  She did so and the piece of metal separated easily.

  “Now bend it in the middle.”

  She did so and heard a tiny pop. Five small metal protuberances came out of the hollow metal straw. “It’s a lock pick set!”

  “Exactly. The other side has a sharp blade in the same place. When she works her way out, have her make her way to the pub and we’ll pick her up there.” He took a last sip from his cup and handed it to Hatchet, who cradled the still-warm metal in her hands.

  “You think the plan will work?” She didn’t want to find herself an inmate before the day was done.

  Andrew put his hands on his hips. His open jacket fell away, giving her a glimpse of linen stretched across a flat stomach. “It will have to if you want Christmas with her.”

  “People have escaped Newgate with less. She has a reputation as a fine screwsman.”

  Andrew was right. Terrwyn, two years older, had been a full-fledged member of the crew of the Hallow’s Eve. Her specialty was accessing government warehouses. Linet knew she had to have faith in her sister’s abilities.

  A few minutes later, the Christmas hovered over the alley and Linet made her way down the rope ladder to the ground. She already missed the clean air above. Her feet touched dirt and she took a few tentative steps toward the light she could see under a closed door, the back entrance to the public house.

  When a scuttling came from the dim alley ahead, she dashed back up the ladder with the agility of a monkey. As she half-slid, half-fell over the side, Andrew regarded her with one coal-black raised eyebrow, his hands still at his hips.

  “Someone’s out there,” she whispered.

  “No one has raised a cry,” he pointed out.

  Her knees felt like a badly-set pudding. “I don’t think I can do this alone,” she confessed. “I’m not brave. I ran away when they took my father.”

  “That was the best choice, given Newgate or the gibbet as alternatives.” He stared at her for a moment, then raised his finger in Hatchet’s direction. “Bring me my brown coat and bowler.”

  “You’ll come?” Linet’s voice came out in a squeak. “Will the papers work for both of us?”

  Hatchet gave her a dirty look and dashed off. Linet stayed in her huddled position. She was a coward and a fool, but just knowing Andrew would be with her was a comfort, enemy or not. At least he knew how to fight.

  No one commented or bothered them as they walked through the smoky public house, famed as the place where resurrection men once waited to sell dead bodies to the St. Bartholomew’s Hospital surgeons. She stayed close by Andrew’s side, though she was careful not to touch him.

  From there, they made their way through the early morning streets until they smelled the ghastly odor of unwashed bodies, death and misery that radiated from the prison. Its forbidding stone walls and high, grated windows promised despair to all who entered. She felt sadness sink into her bones, knowing but for her lucky escape she’d have spent the past three years inside with her sister. Seeking reassurance, she glanced at Andrew. The change in his body posture amazed her. He’d slumped his shoulders and kept his gaze pointed at a spot just above the street. When she touched his elbow, he tilted his head and winked.

  What an actor. He needed no comforting to get through this ordeal.

  She offered her permit at the governor’s house as Andrew hung back in the shadows. The servant muttered about the pre-breakfast hour, causing her to worry that they would stand out in memory.

  Andrew took her elbow in his gloved hand when she turned to him. “Steady,” he muttered under his breath.

  She attempted to follow his lead and behave normally, but her hands shook slightly. Soon, the officer arrived to conduct them into the prison. She quickly lost track of the twists and turns of passages between oak and iron gates though she had a sense of keen interest from Andrew.
Her focus was halved because he kept his hand at her elbow, keeping her attention on his strong male form. But she had more important considerations. How long would it take Terrwyn to pick her way through all these gates? Was there another exit?

  Eventually, the officer, large and limping but cleanly dressed, brought them to something like an iron cage outside of a yard. The top was roofed a few inches above her and she could see into an outdoor space.

  “The women are taking the air here.”

  Linet craned her neck, trying to see faces clearly, though little more than torchlight shone at this early hour. Who would find the outdoors preferable to their cell this early on Christmas morning? It must be terrible in the wards. How sad that this was her father’s last stop in this world and that her sister had been here all along.

  She heard the low murmur of voices, and then a woman’s clear soprano began to sing “Silent Night.” She smiled to find a hint of the holiday in this otherwise bleak place.

  “No singing!” called the officer in a harsh tone, then he nodded to Linet and Andrew and moved back from the bars.

  So much for Christmas in Newgate Prison.

  They were the only visitors at that early hour. Folding her shaky, chilled hands together, she called Terrwyn’s name, in a low voice at first, then louder as she gave up hope that her sister was present. When Andrew patted her shoulder she realized she’d gone a bit shrill with worry.

  Most of the bodies scattered back inside as she called, as if they couldn’t tolerate the noise or the sight of the large males next to her. The officer muttered something and walked away. Andrew kept his body facing the wall rather than the yard. Eventually, a figure detached from a hardened group of black-clad, huddled women in one corner of the yard. The bulky woman approached, her eyes widening, taking on the amber torchlight.

  “Who is calling for Terrwyn Fenna?”

  “Her sister.”

  A gasp. “Linet? Is that really you?”

  Linet now recognized the husky female voice, but the body made no sense to her. Her skin prickled, sweaty with nervous confusion. “Terrwyn?”

  “Yes!” Hands reached between bars to clasp her gloved fingers. “You’re alive!”

  Linet’s heart skipped a beat. She took a deep breath to steady herself. Could this really be her flesh and blood, these thin fingers with dirt encrusted under the nails? “And you! I’d given up hope.”

  “How did you find me?”

  Linet unhooked a lantern from an iron hook and held it above her head, still not certain what was wrong.

  When the light passed over her sister’s familiar, still achingly young face, dotted heavily with freckles across the forehead and nose, then drifted down her body, she realized what she’d only dimly sensed before. “You’re with child.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Linet heard an audible sigh from Andrew, but Terrwyn didn’t react.

  “Hurry, the guard will be back soon,” her sister said, ignoring Linet’s shock. “Can you help me?”

  She felt frozen by her discovery. “Whose child do you carry?”

  “I had no money, Linet, no blankets, only raw food. It’s pure desperation that brought me to this.” Her lips tightened, throwing the freckles on her upper lip into high relief.

  Linet closed her eyes. Would she have made a different choice after years in this dismal place? And yet Terrwyn had hope. She’d come when called.

  Linet put her hands to her head and something poked her in the arm. The eyeglasses. “Here,” she whispered, pulling them from the voluminous sleeves only partially covered by a wool shawl. “I bought you your spectacles.”

  “But I don’t—”

  “Take off the sides and bend them,” she said in such a low voice she barely put breath to sound.

  “Why?”

  Linet tilted her head so all that separated her lips from her sister’s ear was the width of the dirty bar. “Lockpicks. Knife. Escape. Meet me at the Fortune of War.”

  A gulp. “I can’t.”

  “It’s Christmas. Surely no one will be very attentive.” Linet felt Andrew’s breath on her ear as he moved closer.

  “I could get out of my cell, but your plan wouldn’t work. I’m on the top floor. Do you know how many doors are between me and the front gate?” Terrwyn glanced at Andrew and her eyes widened, but she was too schooled by years of fear to react.

  “Where is your cell exactly?” he asked.

  “It’s over there. I can see this yard from it.” Terrwyn pointed with her chin.

  “I need more.”

  “There’s a long soot mark on the right, because a fireplace is just outside. I’m next to a common room at the end of a gallery.”

  “Top floor, soot mark. Could you chip away some of the brick, mark it somehow?”

  “I can’t climb. I’m near my time.” Terrwyn’s voice had taken on a desperate edge.

  Linet saw the turnkey making his way back toward them. “I’ll figure something out. If you can get to the public house, ask for Hatchet. I’ll make sure someone knows what you mean.”

  “Happy Christmas,” Terrwyn said in an audible tone, indicating the turnkey was near.

  Linet smelled the stale onion scent of his breath a moment later. “And to you, dear sister. I am glad you are so well, and of course my husband and I will take the babe when your time has come. I’ll leave word with the governor’s office.”

  “Thank you.” Terrwyn faded back into her group of women. One of them began to sing “Old King Wenceslaus” in a strident tone, causing the turnkey to rattle his keys at them and yell to quiet down.

  Linet nodded to the turnkey and followed him back out to a room with desks and stools, though no clerks were in evidence. Andrew dawdled, and she knew he was gathering information. “Can I leave a message?”

  “Not today. No one to take it.”

  “I’ll be back then,” she said sharply and left as quickly as decorum allowed, feeling as if the stench and misery of the place might never leave her. She had to get Terrwyn out, but how? It seemed their initial plan was unworkable.

  “Are you insane?” Andrew demanded, shaking her arm when they were back on the street. “You’re a Fenna! Even after three years you might find yourself clapped in irons if you say your name around here.”

  “I’d have used yours, since we’re supposed to be married.”

  “Like my name is any better?”

  The fear and stench overwhelmed Linet in a heartbeat. She bent and heaved the toast and coffee Hatchet had fed her into the road. Andrew grabbed her elbow when she was done and hauled her along. When they were back inside the public house he handed her a handkerchief.

  “Wait here.” He moved to the bar, leaving her to rest limply along a wall.

  After a few minutes, he came back with a glass and handed it to her. She took a sip automatically, then spluttered.

  “Gin?”

  He took it from her and tossed back the contents. “If you don’t want it.”

  “The only way we’re going to get Terrwyn out of Newgate is by putting a rope ladder to her window like you did for me.”

  “A bit too obvious outside a prison,” he muttered. “Come, we’d best get going.”

  Andrew winked at a barmaid as they ducked out the back. Linet wondered if he had a past with the frizzy-haired wench, missing front tooth or not. But she wasn’t jealous, of course, just worried about his focus. There could be Blockaders about, even in a pub famous for its rebellious clientele. If he was known here, they could be identified.

  Thankfully, no one stopped them as they left.

  The ladder blended in with the dirty wall out back as it lowered from the airship above their heads.

  “You first,” he said.

  “I’m not letting you look up my skirt, you lecher.”

  He was two rungs up the ladder when Linet heard the back door of the pub open. She pressed against the wall, knowing Andrew was exposed. When he eased a heater from his belt she knew he had
heard the door too.

  “Captain!” came a clear, male voice.

  Andrew grabbed the rope with one hand and slid back to the ground, but kept the heater out. “Colehurst?”

  “Got any French brandy on that dinghy of yours?”

  Andrew grinned and tugged on the rope. Hatchet’s face appeared over the rail.

  “Send me down two cases of brandy.”

  Since the captain was occupied, Linet climbed the ladder into the safety of the Christmas, hoping Andrew would complete his transaction quickly. She felt sick from fear and excitement, but knew this was nothing compared to the desperation her sister must feel, trapped in her own body with a babe on the way.

  A few minutes later, Andrew took his place at the wheel and gave the order to fire the burners so they could move outside city limits. She could see from his smirk that he was pleased to have turned this London run into a profitable business transaction.

  She felt no satisfaction. Putting her head in her hands, she stood against the railing below the bridge, trying to think of a solution to Terrwyn’s problem. Having seen her again, she wanted more than a few stolen Newgate minutes with her sister on Christmas. She wanted memories and carols and hugs and laughter, puddings and a Yule log on the fire.

  When Andrew sat down next to her, she discovered he’d pinned a sprig of mistletoe to his hat.

  She remembered kissing her father’s scratchy cheek on Christmas when he’d done the same. Andrew would not receive equal treatment from her. “Where did you come by that?”

  “Colehurst. I’m sorry you were frightened, but the money he paid me will cover coal for a few days.”

  “Are you that close to the edge?”

  “The Blockaders’ organization seems to grow every month. Gladstone wants this nation locked down so everyone has to pay his taxes.”

  “Hatchet told me about the battle and her parents’ deaths. I’m sorry it’s gotten so hard. When I was a child the Owler life seemed easy and fun.”

  “I know. I was there. I remember your grandfather, even.”

  “Yes, Papa lived with us until he died when I was eight.” How different her life had been then.