The Sea Hawk

by Brenda Adcock

  "Grab the rope!" voices were shouting at her. Instinctively she reached out and felt coarse fibers scratching her hand as her fingers closed tightly around them. She felt her body being dragged quickly through the water. She looked up and saw off-white sails billowing against a clear blue sky from three tall masts rising above the deck of a huge wooden ship. She knew this kind of ship--a frigate. A row of closed cannon ports extended along its side. Although she could see the sails being lowered, the ship continued cutting through the water, dragging her along. She didn't have the strength to pull her body closer to the cargo netting thrown over the railing of the main deck. As the last of her strength seeped away, she released the rope and began to sink into the water beneath her. It was over.

  DYING ISN'T SO bad, Julia thought, taking a deep breath. For the first time in--how many days--she felt warm and dry. She lifted a hand and winced at the soreness in her arm muscles as she gently touched her sun-burned face and ran fingers through her short hair. She felt something slightly scratchy rubbing her skin when she moved. Perhaps when you died you entered Heaven or Hell unclothed. She was afraid to open her eyes, afraid she was in a horrible place.

  "She's coming to, lad. Fetch the Captain," a firm British-accented voice said as Julia felt a hand come to rest against her head.

  Julia blinked her eyes open and let them sweep quickly around her surroundings. The wall beside her was wooden and had been white-washed off-white. A lantern attached to the ceiling swayed gently back and forth. Finally her eyes came to rest on a man who appeared to be in his forties or fifties. A pair of glasses rested halfway down his aquiline nose and his graying hair was pulled back into a pony tail drawn together at the nape of his neck. He wore a stiff white shirt with a stand up collar buttoned all the way to his neck. A dark blue vest, also completely buttoned, with gold decorative buttons covered the shirt.

  Seeing the confusion in her eyes, the man leaned slightly forward. "I am Ship's Physician Anthony Cornelius. You are in the sick bay of HMS Viper. What is your name, child?"

  Julia blinked blankly at the man without speaking. She needed time to awaken from this dream.

  Taking a different tack, Dr. Cornelius said, "Quel

  est votre nom, ma chère?"

  Once again he received no response from his patient and scratched his head. "Well, that is the extent of my linguistic abilities," he muttered to himself. Standing, he motioned for Julia to sit up and prepared his stethoscope, pantomiming what he wanted her to do. "Take a deep breath, please," he said as he demonstrated breathing deeply. Julia complied, holding the blanket tightly against her chest. The doctor moved the instrument around her back before sitting again and listening to her chest.

  "I shall cause you no harm, madam," he said softly as he loosened Julia's grip on the blanket and continued listening. His examination was interrupted by firm rapping against the sick bay door. Making sure he had Julia's attention, he gently pushed her shoulders. "Lie down, please." As soon as he readjusted the blanket to cover Julia's naked body, he turned and strode to the door.

  Although she couldn't hear what was being said, she guessed the doctor was giving a report on her condition to someone. A moment later Cornelius walked back toward her followed by a handsome man in tight, snow-white breeches buckled at mid-calf. Equally white stockings covered the rest of his legs until they met shiny black shoes topped with gold buckles. A dark blue pullover shirt was topped by a white vest held together with hooks and eyes. Completing his uniform was a dark blue waist length jacket with white lapels and gold fringed epaulets. The jacket was short in the front and hung down in the back like the tails of a tuxedo. Although the jacket was unbuttoned, Julia noticed a row of gold buttons down each white lapel. The man carried himself with what Julia could only call a regal bearing. In the crook of his right arm he carried a black bicorn hat outlined in gold cording. It was difficult for Julia to determine his age considering the pursed mouth and Roman nose. His face was elongated and topped by long dark brown hair drawn back and tied in place at his neck.

  Bowing slightly and with a look of indifference, the man spoke in clipped words. "Terrance Bentham, madam. Captain of His Majesty's Ship Viper."

  Julia nodded briefly at the man and looked at Dr. Cornelius. "She does not respond to either English or French," the doctor reported.

  "Is she a mute?"

  "Possibly, but I doubt it."

  "What about the unusual...undergarment she wore?" the captain asked, his eyes flicking toward Julia.

  "I am unfamiliar with the substance. Apparently it was intended to protect her body from the elements for some reason."

  "We shall turn her over to the authorities once we make port in Jamaica. They can decide the best course of action regarding her future. I cannot detour from our course. The Governor-General and his entourage have already been delayed long enough," the Captain said matter-of-factly.

  As he turned to leave, Julia opened her mouth and looked from the captain to the physician. "My...name..." she started. Her throat burned and it was difficult for her to speak. As the two men stared at her, she shook her head. "Water, please," she managed.

  The doctor filled a container and handed it to her. She gulped down the entire mug and handed it to the doctor for a refill. She had never tasted anything as sweet. When her thirst was quenched, she cleared her throat. I can do this. After listening to Mother my entire life, surely I can manage the accent. "My name is Julia Blanchard," she said clearly.

  "You are a British subject?" the captain asked skeptically.

  "Indeed," she replied, her eyes downcast. "I am in your debt for saving my life."

  "Not to put too fine a point on it, my dear," the doctor said, "but how did you come to be floating in the virtual middle of the ocean? And what was that unusual undergarment you wore?"

  "My ship was caught in a sudden storm and I was swept overboard. It was unbearably warm in my compartment and I was on deck in an attempt to cool myself. The undergarment is--um--a new fashion I discovered recently while traveling abroad," Julia answered, hoping the men would find it believable. She decided she could get into this charade. Perhaps I have found my way into some kind of elaborate reenactment. Her mother would be proud.

  "That is the biggest line of poppycock I have ever heard," the Captain said smugly.

  "When do we arrive at Jamaica?" she asked. "I am anxious to return to my home and must book passage."

  "That might be somewhat difficult, my dear," the doctor said. "Hostilities between the Royal Navy and the Americans have rather curtailed non-military travel by sea for the moment."

  "What hostilities?" Pausing she said, "You'll have to forgive me, Doctor. I'm afraid my ordeal has affected me more than I thought. What day would this be?"

  "July fifteenth," Cornelius said with a smile. "Considering what you've been through, my dear, some memory loss is perfectly understandable."

  But what's the freakin' year! her brain was screaming. "You have my apologies, Captain Bentham, if my rescue has delayed your mission."

  "No matter, Miss Blanchard. We shall be rendezvousing with the fleet at Jamaica before we continue on to Mobile and New Orleans. One day will not make much of a difference one way or the other. This is nothing more than an annoyance. Now that we have defeated Bonaparte I can assure you we shall make short shrift of these Americans."

  She covered her mouth to suppress a yawn. "Captain, my patient should rest now," Cornelius said. "Perhaps you can speak with her again later this evening."

  "Of course, Doctor." Bowing slightly toward Julia, Bentham set his hat back on his head. "I shall speak with Mrs. Kent. Perhaps either she or her maid will have suitable attire they might lend our guest."

  As Julia shut her eyes and turned onto her side, she tried to remember her history and wished she had paid more attention. Bonaparte? As in Napoleon? Her body ached as she shifted in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. She searched her memory for a date. When was Napoleon defeated? Eighteen-som
ething. She had to be dreaming. The harder she concentrated, the more her mind drifted. She was incredibly tired, but at least she was finally dry.

  A HAND ON her shoulder jerked Julia awake. The sudden movement reminded her immediately of the pounding her body suffered during her wrestling match with the marker buoy. Slowly she brought a hand to her face and rubbed her eyes. Standing over her was a young woman in her early twenties. Her red hair was immaculately tucked under a white cap. Seeing Julia looking up at her, the woman smiled. Her skin was pale white, accented by rosy cheeks. Curtseying slightly, the woman said, "Good day, ma'am. I was asked to provide you with appropriate clothing."

  "Who are you?" Julia asked, pushing up onto her elbows.

  "Oh, my apologies, ma'am. My name is Kitty Longmire. I am the maid to Lady Hortense Kent, wife of the Governor-General." The woman looked at her as if she should know who the Governor-General was and of what. "The Captain has extended an invitation for you to join him and Lord and Lady Kent for supper, if you are feeling well enough, that is."

  "Thank you. I am hungry," Julia replied.

  "I will help you dress and show you where the officer's dining facility is located," Kitty said as she reached down to remove the blanket covering Julia.

  Grabbing the blanket and holding it against her nakedness, Julia said, "I can dress myself, but thank you anyway."

  Laughing lightly, Kitty said, "If you are concerned about my seeing you unclothed, my lady, I should tell you that I assisted Dr. Cornelius in disrobing you when you were brought aboard." Turning to shake out a dress and petticoat, Kitty continued. "I must admit it was a bit of an ordeal to remove whatever it was that covered you. At first I thought perhaps you had been tarred and feathered. Except, of course, there were no feathers." Holding a hand out to her, Kitty waited. "No need to worry."

  Julia had never stood naked in front of another woman before unless the other woman was also unclothed in preparation for an intimate encounter. And certainly no one had helped her dress since she was in elementary school. Oh, well, what did it matter now? Everything happening to her was nothing more than part of an elaborate dream anyway, albeit a seemingly real one. She drew the blanket away and stood, glancing down at her body. She was aghast to see the dark blue and purple bruises along her ribs and thighs. No wonder she was achy.

  Kitty must have seen the bruises, but didn't comment as she helped Julia dress. None of the clothing was familiar and Julia was glad Kitty was assisting her. She wasn't sure she could have figured out how to put the garments on. Three layers later, Kitty buttoned a long row of buttons up the back of the dress Julia wore. It was a simple dress, but certainly nothing she would have selected for herself. She missed her cargo pants and pullover.

  Finally, with no more layers to drape over her body, Kitty stood back to look over her charge. "It is a little loose on you, but you are so slender, my lady."

  "Julia, please." Without a mirror she had no idea what she looked like, but felt ridiculous as she looked down at the yards of lace and flowered, yellow material. In deference to her bruises, Kitty hadn't laced the undergarments as tightly as she might have and Julia was grateful. How did anyone stand to wear this shit? Turning to face Kitty, she smiled. "Well, lead me to the chow, Kitty. I could eat a horse."

  Seeing the look on Kitty's face, Julia mentally slapped herself. "Sorry," she said. "A phrase I recently heard an acquaintance use. Apparently it is what the Americans say when they are extremely hungry."

  "Oh. Well, it's quite colorful."

  You have no idea the colorful phrases I know. Julia smiled as she followed Kitty out of the sick bay.

  Chapter Four

  JULIA TOOK A seat next to Kitty in the Officer's Dining Room and glanced at the others seated at the table. Other than Kitty, Captain Bentham, and Dr. Cornelius she knew none of the others seated at the long table. She adjusted a white linen napkin in her lap and waited. Bentham cleared his throat and stood. He continued to look warily at his ship's newest passenger, making Julia uncomfortable. Her borrowed clothing did nothing to alleviate the feeling that everyone at the table was staring at her, despite Kitty's attempt to make the large dress fit her slender figure.

  "Your Lordship, Lady Kent, allow me to introduce Miss Julia Blanchard, apparently a castaway whom we rescued earlier today," Bentham stated. "Miss Blanchard, may I introduce Lord Obedience Kent, the Governor-General of Jamaica and his lovely wife Lady Hortense Kent."

  Bentham returned stiffly to his chair as the Kents and Julia stared at one another and nodded. She would have sworn she saw a lecherous gleam in Lord Kent's eyes as he gazed at her. He was a well-fed, portly man in his fifties and was dressed as if he might be meeting the King himself. Equally Rubenesque, Lady Kent sniffed and touched the tip of her nose with a lace handkerchief she pulled from inside the sleeve of her multi-layered dress. Julia couldn't fathom how they tolerated the heavy clothing in the oppressive mid-July heat.

  Kitty leaned closer to Julia. "I'm glad you have joined us so's His Lordship will have someone new to leer at," she whispered, a smile gracing her full lips.

  Julie looked at her companion. "What?"

  "His Lordship fancies himself something of a ladies man," Kitty said in a charmingly lilting Irish brogue.

  "Does he own a mirror?" Julia chuckled. "I may lack companionship at the moment, but I'm not quite that desperate. He and Lady Kent seem to be well-suited for one another."

  Kitty laughed and covered her mouth as she coughed to hide her laughter.

  "How many days before we make port, Captain Bentham?" Obedience Kent asked through a mouth stuffed with meat and potatoes. He grabbed his wine glass and filled his mouth to wash down his food.

  "If we stay on the course I have set I estimate six, perhaps seven days. Certainly no longer. We have, however, made excellent progress with the assistance of favorable winds," Bentham answered.

  "I am hoping we will not encounter any delays," Lady Kent said. Her voice had a falsetto quality to it that set Julia's teeth on edge.

  "The Viper is more than capable of handling anything that may arise, Lady Kent. As soon as you and Lord Kent are safely in port we shall sail immediately northward to the bay at Mobile to rendezvous with other ships of the British fleet," Bentham said, sounding somewhat bored. As Julia looked up she saw Bentham's eyes boring into her. She was certain he hadn't believed her story about falling overboard for a Bristol minute, but there was nothing more she could do except wait to see whether he turned her over to the authorities when they reached port.

  "This will be the captain's first actual military encounter," Kitty whispered. "I imagine he will be glad to be rid of us."

  "He's sailing to Mobile?" Julia asked.

  "Some of the junior officers have told me there are rumors the Americans have been diverted by an uprising of savages in Alabama. If true it should allow our troops to converge and strike along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico," Kitty said seriously. "We've been at sea a month and I, personally, will be glad to have solid ground beneath my feet again."

  OTHER THAN SHARING meals each evening with the captain, the ship's doctor, Kitty, and the pretentious Kents, Julia tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible. She had a lot to think about. It took her days to feel less disoriented. She no longer believed she was trapped in a dream or any type of extravagant re-enactment. She was stuck somewhere in the past with no idea how she arrived there or exactly when. She felt out of place and was constantly on guard when she spoke to anyone else on board the ship.

  Julia found she enjoyed the smooth rolling of the tall ship. In a good breeze, the sound of the sails flapping and the laughter and conversation of the crew as they worked were fascinating. Most of all she noticed how wonderful the salt air smelled. For the first time she could remember it wasn't mingled with the scent of diesel fuel or exhaust fumes. The low roaring of the two-hundred-and-fifty horsepower engines on the Discovery, while powerful sounding, would never compare to the sound of water splashing against the
wooden hull of the Viper as it sliced quietly through the calm waters of the Caribbean.

  As the sun dropped in the western skies on her sixth day aboard the Viper, Julia strolled along the main deck wondering what fate awaited her the next day when the Viper sailed into port at Jamaica.

  "Ship ahoy!" the crewman in the crow's nest called out. Julia looked up and saw him pointing toward the east. Around her the deck crew scurried to ready for the approach of a potentially unfriendly vessel.

  Captain Bentham appeared from his quarters beneath the wheel deck and set his bicorn firmly on his head as he strode onto the bridge of the Viper and took a telescope from his first mate. Julia squinted and scanned the eastern horizon, barely able to see the billowing white sails of a second ship. Leaning over the bridge railing, Captain Bentham called down to crew members on the spar deck, "Ready the carronades!" Noticing Julia, a civilian, standing on the main deck, he raised his voice. "Madam! Miss Blanchard! Please return to your quarters immediately!"

  Julia made her way cautiously across the deck, trying to avoid interfering with the crewmen. As she reached the stairs leading below deck she heard Bentham continuing to issue crisp orders. "Open the starboard cannon ports!"

  JULIA STEPPED INTO her cabin and slammed the door closed. She moved quickly across the small room and looked out the porthole. Regrettably her cabin was on the port side of the vessel. She was certain she had heard Bentham order the Viper to keep the approaching vessel to his starboard. From her porthole she saw a ship approaching them from the port side. She saw the British flag flying from the new ship's stern and smiled, marveling at how elegantly it ploughed through the blue Caribbean water.