by J. E. Clymer
She flashed him a smile and nodded, “Not a problem, Mr. Lorton. I had already essentially given the order. You are a smart man; it only pleases me that we have already changed course.”
He smiled at her like a man fully entranced in an enchantress's spell. “Less than an hour should pass on your ticker, Madam Captain before we pull into port.”
She smiled at him again, “Thank you, Mr. Lorton. I will be in my quarters, please inform me the moment we are within sight of the port.”
Belladonna went into her quarters and brushed out her hair. She had worn it up as was expected of her for so long that even she was surprised of its length when left down. The ringlets of curls that she had as a child were weighed down into soft curls by the heavy length of it.
When she was content that her hair didn't look like a large nest of birds had just left it, she sat the brush down. She shook the wrinkles out of her dress and adjusted her decorative eye patch. She stood and really looked at herself in the mirror.
What she saw took her own breath away. She looked confident and daring. Instead of the straight laced spinster, she saw a proud ship captain. She also began to see why Mr. Lorton behaved like a puppy ready to please around her. She felt pretty. Oh, she'd never be beautiful, she knew that, but for the first time in her life she felt attractive in some little way.
The knock on the door brought her another smile. Mr. Lorton opened it tentatively. “Madam Captain, we'll be at port shortly.”
She met him at the door. “Mr. Lorton, it is rather late in the day. Why don't you tell the men to enjoy themselves in the town of Riverton, tonight? We will set sail again at first light.”
He nodded. “What of you, Madam Captain?”
She smiled mischievously. “I do believe I will have a drink in the local pub.”
Mr. Lorton took on a protective look. “If you feel you must, Miss Loomcroft, then please carry a pistol. You do know how to fire one, do you not?”
She almost bounced with excitement. “Of course, Mr. Lorton.” She had no idea how to load a pistol, let alone fire one. No one would call her bluff if it hung on her belt; she was sure of it.
She was sure of it until she stepped off the ship. She wandered the town and enjoyed it well enough. The dressmaker had some ribbon she liked and for once in her life she bought it simply because she wanted it. Her father had inconvenienced her, so why shouldn't she spend a bit of his coin?
When she finally wandered into the local pub it was full to the brim of sea bound men. When she walked thru the door one young man yelled out, “Madam Captain in the house!”
She smiled and weaved her way to the bar. She flashed an innocent smile to the bar keep. “Please supply my men with a pint on me. Anymore is on them, but the first pint is on me.”
One of her men laughed and yelled, “Here, here!”
She couldn't help but laugh at the gesture. She was still laughing when she turned around to watch her men. The laughter stopped the moment she locked eyes, well, eye with George Livery.
She seen her father truly angry a few times in her life. Once he had actually hit her step-mother after he found her beating Belladonna. She would never forget the look of rage on her father's face that day. Her stomach churned when she saw the exact same look in the eyes of George Livery.
He bowed and smirked at her sarcastically. “Miss Loomcroft, would you do me the honor of having a private conversation with me upstairs?”
She recognized the command and a day ago she probably would have immediately done as he asked. Now she sipped her ale and simply said, “I do not think that is wise, Mr. Livery.”
His eyes narrowed and he leaned within a breath's space of her ear. “I do not think we can trust your judgments on wisdom at the moment, Miss Loomcroft. Please do not make a scene, we need to talk.”
She took another sip of her ale. She batted her eyes and bit her lip. “Well, I suppose you did say please; that is progress for you, Mr. Livery.”
He almost looked relieved as he took her arm and led her up the stairs. Belladonna almost thought the conversation would be amicable. It had to be the alcohol she wasn't use to clouding her judgment.
The second the door to the room closed she knew she was in trouble. He rounded and her and grabbed her by the upper arms. He shook her, he actually shook her. “What in God's name are you doing, Belladonna?!” He bellowed.
She stilled and looked at him. “Mr. Livery I was beginning to credit you with some brains, considering how well you can verbally spar; I fear I was wrong. I thought it was quite obvious what I am up to.”
“Madam Captain,” he parodied as he pushed her away. He started to pace slowly, crossing his arms and rubbing his chin. “For the love of God woman, take off the eye patch.”
She nodded with confidence and proceeded to untie the patch behind her hair. “Does that ease your concerns, Mr. Livery?” She was feeling a bit annoyed herself and added just to annoy him, “I am now perfectly safe from tripping and falling. Are you finished? I would like to return to my ale.”
He looked at her with wide eyes. “Return to your ale. Return to your ale! Are you out of your bloody mind?”
She considered the situation and finally walked over and sat on the bed. She had a feeling this rant was going to last for some time. “Actually, I am quite enjoying myself.” She replied in an upbeat tone.
“I was unaware you even knew what the word 'enjoy' meant.” He looked her up and down, his gaze settling on her pistol. “You do not even know how to use that, do you?”
“Of course, I do.” She responded a bit too quickly. He rushed her and pulled the pistol out of the holster and set it safely on the table in the room. “A pistol is not a piece of jewelry, Bella. If you do not intend to shoot it, then you do not carry it.”
She crossed her arms and let her weight rest on one leg. “What makes you think I would not shoot you?”
He groaned. “Bella, the damn thing was not even loaded.”
A silent 'oh' formed on her lips. Lips that he noted now looked to be a shade of early blooming red roses instead of the color of a pink tea rose. Damn it. The color of her lips were immaterial, the woman was crazy.
“Well, I am not leaving it here when I return to my ship.”
“Which will be immediately, Miss Loomcroft.” He said with confidence that his word would be obeyed.
She shook her head no. “I don't think so, Mr. Livery. I have every intention of enjoying my evening.”
He stared her down, “You want to get...to overindulge in drink.”
She gave him a laughing smile, “Of course not. I want to moderately indulge. I do still have to get back on the ship without falling in the sea after all.”
George studied her for a moment. Her hair curled widely around her face and the cut of the clothes portrayed her best assets to their utmost advantage. He knew he couldn't let her leave. He sighed, “You will do this no matter what I say?”
She nodded with a smile. He got up and went to the door. He ordered the maid outside to bring them up two pints of ale. “How could you be sure I would want ale?” She asked.
George wanted to tell her it as the only thing she could likely drink without losing it in the most unpleasant manner later, but he held his tongue. This was not the frigid spinster that he knew from London. “You ordered it downstairs.”
She looked a little surprised. Belladonna was already prepping her retort, but she didn't know how to reply to that statement. How many men of the ton noticed something small like that? None. Yet, George had. She was surprised at the thought that she could learn to like the man.
She relaxed on the bed, her hands supported her as she leaned back. “What brings you to Riverton, Mr. Livery?”
He sat down next to her on the bed. “You're not serious?” He asked bewildered.
She simply raised an eyebrow at him.
He sighed. “My father is the Earl of Riverton. I am his fourth son. Now, I have answered one question for you, so you will a
nswer one for me.”
She shrugged, obviously not agreeing. “Why are you doing this, Miss Loomcroft?”
Before she could answer a servant brought in their drinks. She sipped at her ale to fortify her nerves. “Why do women do anything they do, Mr. Livery? My father wished it.”
George was taken back. “He wanted you drinking ale in a pub with no protection?”
“Don't be daft,” she scolded. “If at least a quarter of those men down there do not have strict orders to protect me then I will be immensely surprised.”
“If that were the case, Miss Loomcroft, then why would they allow me to spirit you away up here?” He asked rationally.
She laughed from deep in her stomach. “I suppose I made a miscalculation. You're quite right, I should not have come up here. I just preferred your scolding not to be public. As to why they would allow it. My father claims he wants me happy, but in truth he wants me wedded and bedded. I'm quite sure he is not going to require it be in that order.”
George almost felt the bitterness in her voice. He searched her face for some clue as to what was wrong. He waited for her to down more ale before he asked, “Would that be so terrible, Bella?”
She took another drink, emptying the pint. He pushed another towards her. “Do you have any idea how many step-mothers I've been thru? Five. Five! All died the same way. They all died in childbirth and I was there every single time as their life blood pooled out on the floor and the life left their eyes.”
George couldn't help but pity her. “Not all women die that way.” He pointed out gently.
She smiled and saluted with the ale. Golden liquid sloshed out and onto her trouser-skirts. “Quite right, unwed women lead a long and healthy life!”
“They live a lonely life,” he responded sternly.
The drink was starting to go to her head. She patted George on the cheek. “Oh, is poor Georgie lonely? I know many eligible women, I'll help you find one.” She giggled at her own idea, her hand still absently patting his cheek.
He stopped her hand with his own. He kissed the palm of her hand before releasing it. He reminded himself of the situation and why he had given her drink. He wanted information from her, not to be petted like a loyal hound. “Miss Loomcroft, what is your destination on this voyage?”
She let out a hiccup as she lifted the ale to her lips once again. “Spain, although the city escapes me. We deliver the cloth, then we get to turn around and come home. Did you know all those men listen to me? It really is strange.”
He nodded. “Strange, indeed. When will you leave Riverton?”
She dropped the ale on the floor and snuggled into his side as she murmured, “...sorry...” He shook her gently.
“Belladonna, when are you setting sail?” He pushed.
She yawned and curled into him. Her arms stretch around his middle. “First light, Georgie. First light.”
He scooped her up and carried her down the stairs. Suddenly, no less than six men surrounded him. An abnormally tall and muscled man crowded his back. “What have you done to Miss Loomcroft?” He growled.
Livery smiled at the men. “I simply gave her the drink she requested. Granted I may have gave her a bit stronger brew than she needed, but at least she will sleep the evening away safely in her cabin. Much safer than in a room of armed men trying to hold their drinks, wouldn't you say boys?”
The men all nodded. Mr. Lorton walked beside him. “I'll stay on the ship while the Miss sleeps. Who volunteers to go with me?”
The man who had scared the daylights out of George stepped forward. “I am not one much to drink, sir.”
George nodded and led the way back to the Loomcroft vessel. He deposited Belladonna safely in her bed. He then pulled the covers up to her neck. He had already laid a chaste kiss on her forehead before he realized what he was doing. Thank God he didn't accidentally kiss her lips. The gorilla of a man beside would have ripped his head off—literally.
###
Belladonna woke up feeling like her head had been bashed in. She held her stomach as she rolled off the bed. The sudden movement had her fighting to keep the contents of her stomach down. Glancing out the window she could see it was well past noon.
She pushed her aching muscles into motion and changed into clean clothes. She would have liked to do it quicker, but she was far from stable. Once she didn't smell of alcohol she went to the wash basin and washed her face, then she brushed her hair back into tidy curls. Looking down at the dressing table she found her eye patch.
She chuckled as she put it on. Although she felt quite unwell, she made her way out onto deck. Her first mate was beside her in an instant. “Thank you, Mr. Lorton for getting things moving this morning. I fear I am not quite cut out for this lifestyle.”
He chuckled. “Few are, Madam Captain.” He held out his arm like a gentleman. They strolled the deck as one would a ballroom. “It was no trouble. Many a captain sleeps well past his men.”
She blushed down to her toes in embarrassment. “I seriously doubt many sleep into the noon hour, sir.”
It was when they made a turn on the deck at the bow of the ship that she saw it. “What is that?”
“That's a ship, Miss.” Mr. Lorton answered calmly.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at her first mate. Her tone took on a quiet anger. “I am aware it is a ship. Why is it traveling beside us?”
He shrugged. “I expect we have similar destinations, Madam Captain.” She knew in that moment who that ship belonged to and why no one had woken her.
“Mr. Lorton, would it be safe to assume that George Livery is captaining that ship?” She asked quietly.
Mr. Lorton fidgeted. “He's not captaining it.” Her eyebrow raised in skepticism as she waited for more information. “He owns the ship, Miss. He's more of a guest, generally.”
She ground her teeth. “Am I to take it he will escort us all the way to Spain and back?”
The older man fidgeted. “It is my understanding that his destination is a small island he owns off of the coast of Spain.”
“Of course, it is.” She smiled as sweetly as possible. She had lost this round of the game, and Lord help her, she had not even known there was even a game in play.
The day passed without much issue. She had to move a few men to keep them on task, but for the most part running a ship turned out to be very much like running a schoolroom. Only it was enjoyable and the ocean scenes were enchanting.
Late that evening, Mr. Lorton, knocked urgently on her cabin door. “Pardon the intrusion, Madam Captain. We..ah...have a problem up on deck.”
She pushed herself up out of the chair of the desk and walked swiftly to the door. “What kind of problem, sir?”
The look in his old eyes told her something, but she wasn't sure what. She swept past him and walked quickly onto the deck. Mr. Lorton did his best to keep up, but failed. When she was on deck she looked out and saw the problem.
A ship was quickly gaining speed on them. She glanced over at Livery's ship and caught his eyes. He motioned for her to go below decks, but she shook her head no. Taking a deep breath, she yelled, “Gentlemen, it looks as if we are to have guests soon. If you haven't already got weapons from below decks, get...”
The ship shook violently as a projectile crashed into its side. “What in the world?” She whispered as she ran to the side of the ship and looked down to see splintered wood. A quick glance at Livery's ship told her that it had not sustained any damage yet.
She ran to the wheel and turned her ship sharply; positioning it in front of Livery's. There was no way both ships were getting out of this situation floating. Belladonna would have easily gambled that her ship was already taking on water.
Mr. Lorton stood beside her. He was shaking and visible terrified. She held tight to the wheel. “Go drop the gang planks across to Livery's ship. Start moving our men off. Now!!”
Once the old man had a direction things moved swiftly. She saw the elaborate front on the ship a
ttacking them. Another volley of stone didn't crash into her ship's side. She glanced about the deck and was relieved to see it had been cleared over to the other ship.
Livery was just about to cross over to her own ship when she turned it sharply and the planks dropped into the water. She could see him yelling, but she couldn't hear what he said for the pounding of her own heart in her ears. She set her ship on a direct path for the enemy.
They didn't have time to get out of the way and she knew it. They were too close and the turn was too tight. She grabbed rope from her beside her feet and tied the wheel into place. Taking a deep breath, she took off at a run towards the side of the ship closest to Livery's. As she approached the side she closed her eyes and jumped.
