The Admiral's Ward

by Dinah McLeod

  “None of that,” James scolded, but he was smiling as he pulled her hand away. “I want to hear you.”

  “Oh,” she gasped, desperate to please him, but abashed at the thought. “I could never.”

  “We shall see about that.” And then, pinning her hand to the bed, he moved inside her with speed and intensity she had not thought possible.

  She tried to resist, to bite her tongue, but the delicious tingling flooding her, making her feel as though she might catch fire and happily surrender to the flames, made it impossible to disobey. She cried out, a wordless, long moan of delight at first. But as he continued to move inside her it became, “James! Oh, James! I love you!”

  “And I you, dearest.” He moved faster and faster, his breathing quickening. Then he came with a shudder. For a moment, he lay on top of her, their lovemaking over, but still connected to one another. He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her soundly on the mouth. Then he rolled over, pulling her to him.

  Delia gazed into his face, certain that she had never been so happy in her entire life. To think otherwise was impossible. She wanted to stay like this, forever, looking into the eyes of the man she loved.

  How strange to think that if I had never left home, we would not have found each other.

  That thought was the last one she had before she felt sleep dragging her eyes down.

  She could have sworn she heard him whisper, “I love you, my sweet, wonderful, naughty poppet.”

  Chapter Eight

  Delia had just spent the most incredible morning with the admiral and she was still all smiles and humming as she bustled about her room. It would not do, he told her, for there to be gossip about the two of them. He would never besmirch her good name that way, and besides, soon enough people would know them as husband and wife. Which was how, after a luxurious breakfast that rivaled any her cook had ever prepared, she found herself back in her quarters.

  She found, much to her surprise, that she didn’t mind. The room that she had once found so dull and confining now seemed charming, darling, even. She knew that she now looked at it through the lenses of a woman well-loved, and the thought made her giggle.

  “Every day should be as sweet as this one,” she murmured aloud to herself as she surveyed her reflection in the looking glass. The admiral had brushed her hair for her that morning with all the tenderness and care that one could wish for from the man one would marry. She found that she had enjoyed it tremendously.

  “I will bathe you on our wedding night,” he promised, and the idea of another night spent with him had filled her with so much excitement that she hardly knew how to wait.

  Her eyes were sparkling as she had never seen them before, her cheeks flushed with a natural pink that was the trademark of a woman in love. And, she was pleased to note, most becoming.

  Suddenly, she heard sharp, urgent knocking. Startled, she turned and stared at the door for a moment. She was not expecting James again for several hours. But perhaps he could not wait—the thought made her move with haste to answer the door.

  Instead, she found Barnabee waiting on the other side of the door. His brown eyes were wild, his face ragged with anxiety.

  She knew he was her friend, but even so could not help but recoil from his appearance. “What is it? What has happened?” Though it was Barnabee who had come to her, she could not help but feel a moment of panic for James.

  “Tell me it is not true, princess,” he rasped out.

  “I... what?” Her brow furrowed. “I do not understand.”

  “Tell me it isn’t true,” he repeated, his voice desperate. “The rumors that you will marry the admiral.”

  Delia felt her anxiety evaporate as her face flooded with warmth. James had told her that the news would be kept quiet, but she could not help but feel pleased the other sailors knew she was his.

  “It cannot be true,” he repeated. “Surely, you have heeded me, you have—”

  She felt irritation rising at her friend who, at this moment, seemed most irrational. “It is true. Whatever is the matter with you?”

  “Ooh.” He put his head in his hands and he moaned, a long, terrible sound that made her wince. “I tried. I tried to warn you, princess. Never say that I did not.”

  “I am not a princess,” she reminded him loftily. Then she froze as his words reached her. “I do not understand. What are you talking about? Warn me about what?”

  Barnabee’s eyes were wild as he ran his hands through his hair until his tresses stood on end.

  Delia began to feel the flutter of doubt in her breast as she backed away from him. “You are frightening me.”

  He took the opportunity of her moving out of the doorway to step into her room and slam the door behind him. “Forgive me, princess,” he said, but he did not sound sorry.

  “I told you, I am not—”

  “I do not mean to frighten you,” he spoke over her. “It is only that this is a disastrous thing for you, the very thing I wished to spare you from.”

  “I do not understand.” Almost unconsciously, she moved further away from him.

  “How could you not understand?” he snapped. “Truly, I thought you no idiot.”

  It was the first time he had spoken to her in anything other than his usual kind manner and her brows knit together. “Of course I am not.”

  He opened his mouth, then seemed to rethink whatever he had been about to say for he closed it again.

  “I am actually quite tired. I think it would be best—”

  “I know you are not,” he interrupted again, his tone gentler. “Of course not. I never thought you were. It is only, I am terribly frightened for you, and you do not seem to know the position you are in.”

  The flutter in her chest became a pounding that made her cautious when she answered. “Barnabee, please. I would really like to be alone. I—”

  But he seemed not to hear her. He continued as though she had not spoken. “I can’t fathom, to tell you truly, ‘cause I did warn you. I warned you several times.”

  Everything he had said about the admiral came rushing back to her and her brow smoothed. “Oh, that. Yes, you told me quite a few things, but—”

  “I thought you would listen,” he said, running his hand through his hair again until he looked quite wild. “I thought you would understand...” He let out a frustrated howl that made her jump in surprise.

  “Barnabee, please, listen to me. I know what you said about James. I heard you, truly, I did. But he is not—”

  Finally, he looked at her again. His face screwed up. “James?” he echoed. “He is not the admiral anymore?”

  Her cheeks flushed and she was not sure if she was more embarrassed to have forgotten not to use his given name, or frustrated at this strange behavior. “Please, I am trying to tell you, I appreciate your concern for me. Truly, I do. But the admiral is not—”

  “This has gone further than I thought,” he mumbled, as if to himself. “I had thought I had more time.”

  “More time for what?” she demanded, well and truly perplexed now.

  When Barnabee faced her again he looked more like the man she knew. “I tried to warn you.”

  “I know, but—”

  “I did not tell you the worst of it. For fear of your delicate sensibilities.”

  Was it her imagination, or was he trying to cover a smirk?

  “But if I had known... I would not have spared you. This is too far important.”

  “I am afraid I do not know what you mean.”

  “I know. I know, and that is my fault. I was not completely truthful, I did not share all that I know. I have been sailing with the captain—” his mouth twisted bitterly at the title, “—for many years now. I have seen many things, and heard many more. Things that would turn your stomach, princess.”

  She was so enraptured by what he was saying that she forgot to correct him. “Well, what then?” she demanded impatiently. “What is it?”

  Barnabee finally stopp
ed speaking, giving her a long, searching look that made every nerve in her body taut. “You are certain you want to know?”

  “Well, it seems you will not leave until you have had your say,” she snapped, but though she maintained an irritated disposition, inwardly she was trembling.

  When he spoke again, it was in a whisper. “The admiral has been married before.”

  Her eyes widened despite herself. “No. When? To whom?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Which time?”

  The words wrenched through her. She was shaking her head in denial, but she was quivering.

  “There are three others that I know of.”

  “No.” The word was a whisper and he ignored her.

  “Perhaps more, before he took me on as part of the crew. The captain is a handsome man, after all.” His smile mocked her.

  “No,” she said again, louder this time. “It cannot be. He would have told me.”

  “Why? Why would he?” Barnabee reasoned in a tone that made her doubt her own words. “Especially given how the marriages, er... ended.”

  She held her breath. She knew she would not like this part.

  “I s’pose he would not want you to know that, ‘specially since he got you to accept.” He gave her another long look, pity in his eyes as he shook his head.

  “Well? What is it?” she burst out. “What happened?”

  “Perhaps it’s best you not know. After all, the deed is done, you have agreed to marry him. May go better for you if you don’t know. And perhaps it will be different this time, with you.” Every line in his face said that he very much doubted it.

  Delia drew herself to her full 5′4 height, well and truly annoyed. She gave him her haughtiest look, one she had spent years perfecting. “Then why did you come? If you were going to drop dire warnings and then be on your way, why bother at all?”

  “I thought you—”

  “Get out. If you have nothing else to say for yourself and this unwarranted interruption, then see yourself out of my quarters, and do not return.”

  To her surprise, he smiled. “There’s fire in you, princess. That must be what attracted ‘im to ya. The others had spunk too. At first.”

  She did her best not to let him see how his words affected her. She glared at him, striving to look imperial and not at all shaken.

  “You are certain you want to know? Once you do, you canna go back to not knowing.”

  “Since it was so important it caused you to burst in here uninvited, I suppose you had better.”

  Her proud manners only made him chuckle. “Very well then. But you cannot say I did not warn you.” He waited, but she only crossed her arms across her chest.

  Let him think she was puffed up. Truth be told, she was afraid she might need to hold on to herself for balance.

  “The story is that his other wives... for he never divorced, you see.” He screwed up his face at her. “T’would be unseemly.”

  “But... then how could he have already had three wives?”

  “‘Tis a very strange thing, princess. For they all died. The first, after a year. The second lasted even shorter, six months or so? And the third... I knew her, you see. And I thought she would be the one to last, for she was here nearly two years. They seemed happy, at first. But then she... she was well and laughin’ one day and dead as a doorknob the next.”

  It is not true, she thought loyally, but she shivered despite herself. “He would not have been married and not have told me,” she insisted, holding her head up high.

  Barnabee seemed truly disappointed in her. “Wouldn’t he, though? Would you tell someone if you were cursed with a trail of dead wives?”

  She pursed her lips, but she could not help but think about what he had said.

  “And ‘tis worse than that.”

  “I do not see how,” she replied acidly.

  Once again, he seemed not to have heard her. “Worse, because they say he did it ‘imself.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Did what? I do not understand.”

  Barnabee shook his head, seeming not to know whether to be amused or irritated with her. “He killed ‘em. All three of them. T’was a pity, too, for they were all lovely little things, from what I hear. As I said, I knew the last, and she was a beaut. Maybe even prettier than you, if you’ll forgive me for saying so.” He looked her up and down, scrutinizing, as though trying to decide.

  “I do not believe you.” But the words were stiff and perfunctory, even to her own ears. Her heart was beating so fast she felt sure she would faint any moment.

  “Tale goes that he has implements of torture in his chambers. Having not been inside, I canna say for sure.”

  Her bones turned to liquid. She was going to slide to the floor if she didn’t do something quick.

  Barnabee was at her side like a flash, holding her up. He looked down at her pityingly. “I am so sorry, princess. Sorry indeed. I shall miss you.”

  “But it cannot be true. It simply cannot,” she said, as though if she spoke it enough times it would indeed make it true.

  He shrugged. “Perhaps you are right. You tell me, you have been inside his private quarters. Have you seen anything like that? Anything a man could beat a woman to death with?”

  She shuddered. It cannot be true. He would never... he is gentle, and kind... and fierce. The thought interrupted all the others, unbidden. But she could not deny it. He could be fierce, when crossed. He had told her it was only if his rules were broken, but perhaps it was more severe for the woman who was his wife. Another shudder stole over her. She tried to reconcile the story Barnabee was telling her with the man she knew, and it was dizzying, terrifying.

  “So sorry,” he murmured again.

  “But... what shall I do?” she burst out desperately. “How can I... I am stuck on this accursed vessel, and...” She pushed away from Barnabee and with her arms crossed, hugging herself, she began to pace. “I cannot die!” she said, facing him. “I am too young!”

  “Aye, they were young too, princess.”

  She ignored the comment. “What can I do?”

  He shook his head sadly.

  Frightened tears rose to her eyes and though she tried to bite them back, they began to fall one by one. As soon as they began to course down her cheeks, a muffled sob escaped her lips.

  Barnabee’s expression changed to one of pity. “Perhaps... perhaps there is something I can do.”

  “There is?” She leapt at him eagerly, taking his hand. “What is it? Please, you have to help me!”

  “I am afraid it would be quite unpleasant for you, princess.”

  “What is it? I will do anything, I swear it!”

  “I could hide you. But you would not have such luxurious—” He waved his hand to indicate her quarters.

  She cast an eye around and shook her head. “I do not care about any of that,” she insisted. “Please, please, help me. I will do whatever you say.”

  Barnabee gave her another long look as he considered her plea. She waited, holding her breath until at last he nodded. “Very well. I shall hide you and do my best to care for your needs until we reach Baasing. Then I will take a leave from the Victoria and help you get settled there.”

  She clutched his hand tighter as gratitude overwhelmed her. “You would do that? For me?”

  “Of course. We are friends, are we not?”

  Delia felt every bone in her body go limpid. She felt terrible for ever doubting him. “Yes. We are. Thank you. And if there is any way I can repay you, ever, please do not hesitate to tell me.”

  He waved her words away. “Nonsense. Do not even think it. Now, follow me.”

  She did, with eager, hurried steps. All the while her mind whirled. How could it be possible that she had been so wrong about the man she had fallen in love with? Was she nothing more than a foolish girl who knew nothing about the world after all? Her father had always said so, even her beloved governess had hinted at that very thing. Perhaps they had been right all alon
g.

  Barnabee led her down several hallways and then down a set of rickety steps that made her heart catch in her throat as she walked down them. There was an equally shabby door.

  She gave him a shocked look. “Not here, surely?”

  “It is the only place you will be safe, princess. Forgive me, but I did tell you I could not accommodate the finery you are used to. If you would rather forget this whole thing and—”

  “No,” she protested. “No, it is all right. It is for a few days only, after all.” She smiled weakly.

  Barnabee returned her smile. “That is the spirit. Now, let me show you inside.”

  There was not much to see. It was a small, dank room, dimly lit by a singular flickering candle. There was a bed, if it could be called that. It was more like a pile of hay and what looked to be a thin, scratchy blanket. She walked further inside, looking around. She needn’t have bothered. There was nothing more to see.

  “Well, I suppose I shall have to make do.” She tried to sound as cheery as possible, but when she turned around she found herself quite alone. Her brow furrowed. Where had he gone? Why had he not said anything? She walked to the door, now closed, and turned the knob. Only it did not open. Though she twisted and turned, the cold metal did not yield.

  Delia raised a fist and pounded on the door. “Barnabee? Barnabee! The door is locked!” She waited a minute, then tried again. “Are you there? Let me out!” She twisted the knob with growing franticness when there was no answer.

  He had left her and locked her inside. A cold feeling flooded her, leaving her feeling like an even bigger fool than she had minutes ago.

  He lied to me. She felt her breath coming in quick, panicked gasps. He is not coming. He locked me inside here, and to what end? She did not dare to think.

  Chapter Nine

  Delia’s emotions ranged from horrified to furious and back again with varying degrees in between. Barnabee had made a fool of her, she saw that now. Her precious admiral was the very man she had thought him to be, and she had betrayed him by believing a lie. That thought alone was enough to make her cry ragged sobs into the blanket that was as itchy as it had appeared to be.