by Merry Farmer
“The most important thing to learn, other than how to aim straight, is how to load your weapon swiftly and efficiently,” he said, holding up the weapon for her. “Pull the cock to half-cock, then load the powder, like so.”
Letty watched, her anxiety growing, as Martin demonstrated how to load the powder, the ball and patch, how to tamp it down with a ramrod, and how to prime the flash pan. The whole process seemed complicated and finicky. When he saw how confused she was, he fired the weapon, then had her repeat the entire process while he issued instructions.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever master it,” she said as she jammed the ramrod into the barrel.
Before Martin could respond, Lady Malvis stepped up to the chest full of supplies, took a horn of powder and a ball, and proceeded to load, cock, and fire her pistol, bringing down a swooping seagull, all within what felt to Letty like the blink of an eye.
“It’s easy,” Lady Malvis told Letty with a smug look. “I was loading pistols before I was out of the nursery.”
Letty gaped at her. “You were?”
Malvis answered by half-cocking her pistol and repeating the process of loading it.
Letty refused to be outdone. Not by Malvis, at least. She rushed to load her own pistol, alternately watching Malvis’s actions and focusing on what she was doing. Malvis finished first, of course, and raised her pistol to fire up at the rigging. A rope high above split evenly in two, and part of one of the small sails on the fore mast flagged.
“Oy,” Martin shouted. “We need those sails.”
“Don’t you shout at me,” Malvis snapped, pivoting to point her pistol at him.
“Don’t you threaten him,” Letty yelled. “He’s been nothing but kind since the moment we were brought to this ship.”
Malvis snorted. “Yes, kind,” she said, rolling her eyes. “We’ve all heard just how kind he’s been to you.”
Heat flooded Letty’s face, but she wasn’t willing to back down. Not to Malvis. “You’re one to talk,” she said. “You and Mr. Rayburn. And who else?”
“How dare you?” Malvis rounded on her. “You’ve no idea what I’ve been through.”
“Nor do you know what I’ve been through.” Letty thrust her pistol aside to Martin and planted her fists on her hips. “You’re such a hypocrite.”
“And you’re not?” Malvis glared right back at her.
“Ladies, please,” Martin said in what he must have intended to be a soothing voice.
Malvis glanced sideways at him, then tilted up her chin. “Fine. If you are concerned about your precious sail, I’ll fix it.”
She marched toward the foremast, or rather, the rigging and nets connected to it. She reached high above her, grasping the rope, and to Letty’s surprise, pulled herself up.
Letty’s moment of utter shock at the sight of the peevish yet ladylike Malvis, with all her airs and graces, hoisting herself into a pirate ship’s rigging while wearing breeches and boots was quickly overcome by the desperation not to be bested by the witch. She lunged toward the mast herself, found a foothold in the rigging, and pulled herself up as well.
Climbing a ship’s rigging was far more challenging than Letty thought it would be. There was plenty of rope to offer hand and footholds, but it required more strength than she thought she had. Malvis kept going, though, so Letty was determined to go after her.
By a stroke of luck alone, she managed to catch up to Malvis as they reached the first spar. Malvis had paused to study the mast and rigging above her, but when she saw Letty had caught up, she launched upward once more.
Letty followed, struggling to catch her breath. “Where did you learn to climb like this?” she huffed and puffed, falling behind again. “They don’t teach climbing the rigging on a ship in finishing school.”
“I climbed trees as a girl,” Malvis answered without pausing or looking down, though Letty could have sworn she slowed her pace a bit.
“You climbed trees, you loaded pistols. What sort of childhood did you have?” Letty asked, putting everything she had into climbing.
“Be careful up there,” Martin’s shout sounded below them.
Both Letty and Malvis paused to glance down. A small audience of pirates and prisoners had formed as everyone stopped what they were doing to watch.
“I had a happy childhood, if you must know,” Malvis went on, anger in her voice as she continued to climb. “A free childhood. A childhood of blissful neglect.”
Letty was close enough to the woman to see the snarl on her face and the pain in her eyes. A strange feeling, as if she didn’t know Lady Malvis Cunningham at all, formed in her gut.
“A childhood that was cut short when my parents woke up one day and realized they had a daughter nearing marriageable age who could be an asset to their ambitions,” Malvis went on.
Letty said nothing. She put more effort into climbing, wanting to be closer to Malvis.
“My happiest years were put to a swift and bitter end when I was dragged away from my childhood companions, forced to play piano and paint and sit quietly while being ogled like a fish in a market,” Malvis hissed on, pulling herself over another spar and continuing upward. “And when I failed to live up to the delicate feminine standards I barely understood, I was beaten until I could barely sit.” She paused. “My father beat me so severely once he broke my wrist.”
Letty’s mouth dropped open and she nearly lost her footing. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t know,” Malvis spat. “How could you? A lady of refinement never complains and never speaks ill of her parents.” She grunted, teeth bared in a snarl, as she pulled herself higher, nearing the sail that was flapping because of her marksmanship. “God, I hate him,” she went on.
“Your father?” Letty asked in a small voice.
“Yes, my father. He is disgusting and boorish and cruel. He beat me for sport and berated me for failing to snag a husband.”
Letty’s heart sank to her feet. It was a shock to discover that she and Malvis had more in common than she’d suspected. “You couldn’t fight back?” she asked, though it was more of a statement. She knew full well that young ladies couldn’t fight back against their fathers’ whims.
Malvis laughed bitterly. “Why do you think I’ve been trying to marry away from him for so long?” For the first time, she glanced down at Letty, pain and misery pinching her face. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to have engagement after engagement called off?”
“But, weren’t you the one who called it off with Lord Lichfield?” Letty asked.
“Because I heard rumors that his appetites were cruel, that he disciplined women for sport.” She paused. “I wasn’t about to leap from one cruel man to another.”
“And Lord Herrington?”
Malvis snorted. “There was no formal agreement there. My parents couldn’t convince any man to take me at that point.” Her voice caught with emotion as she reached the very top of the mast. Letty continued to climb until they stood together on the top spar, clinging to the mast and each other. “I was damned lucky to find Ainsley when I did,” she said, blinking back tears. “He was like an angel that rescued me from hell. I know that he’s foolish and simple, but I don’t care. I don’t care that he likes men as much as women. He loves me. He’s the only man who has ever loved me. And I would rather die than give him up.”
Letty blinked back tears at the passion with which Malvis spoke of Ainsley. It mirrored her own feelings for Martin, as new as they were. “I know,” she said, closing one of her hands over Malvis’s on the mast.
“Just because I’ve found satisfaction in another man’s arms does not mean I love him any less,” Malvis insisted. “My body and my heart are two separate things, and so are his. He does not hold me at fault for Rayburn, and I do not hold him to blame for Henshaw. I will never forsake him, even if it appears to others as though that is what I am doing. I am not. I am the one who begged him to dress in my clothes and to
pretend to be a woman in order to save him. And bless him, he obeyed without question. He is peculiar, but I love him. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Letty smiled, blinking back her tears and nodding. She shivered in the stiff breeze that blew all around them, and with the sudden realization that they were very high up indeed. But it was worth it. It was worth every blister she knew her hands would bear and every sore muscle from charging up into the rigging so foolishly to understand Malvis at last. She even understood why the woman had behaved like such a witch for so long. Cruelty and abuse would turn any woman into a demon. She wondered how sharp and peevish she would have eventually become if Martin had never captured her and killed Pigge.
“I’m sorry that I assumed the worst about you,” she told Malvis. “I’m sorry that I didn’t see how badly you were hurting earlier. We could have been friends sooner. We could have—”
Her words were cut off by the crack of a gun being fired. Letty couldn’t get her bearings enough to see where the shot came from, but the sudden roar from below told her where it had ended up. She and Malvis twisted and shifted their grips so that they could look straight down to the deck, a sickening distance below.
But even more sickening was the sight that met them—Martin clutching his chest and keeling over.
Chapter 7
“Martin!” Letty screamed, her heart instantly pounding in her chest.
Below, several of Martin’s men rushed toward him, crouching over him in a way that blocked him from view.
“No, oh, no,” Letty wailed, suddenly shaking so hard her knees threatened to give out. She squatted on the spar, hugging the mast, unable to draw breath properly. If Martin had been killed, she didn’t know what she would do with herself.
“Steady,” Malvis said in a remarkably calm voice, lowering herself to Letty’s level. “We have to climb back down. You can do this.”
Letty raised her tear-blurred, stinging eyes to Malvis’s. Malvis stared right at her with a look of iron. That was enough to thrust some sense back into Letty. She nodded, swallowed, then looked down. A moan rose from her lungs as she realized how high they had climbed and how far they had to go to get to the ground. She still couldn’t see what had become of Martin.
“Move your legs down first,” Malvis said. “Like this.”
Malvis demonstrated how to cling to the proper handholds while reaching for a lower foothold, thus reversing the path they’d taken up the rigging. Letty gritted her teeth and drew her focus in, pushing everything else out of her mind but getting down from the rigging for the moment. It was hard work—strangely harder than climbing up had been. Her hands and muscles ached, but not half so much as her heart. It was impossible not to think about what was going on with Martin on the deck, but every time thoughts of him dead or dying came to her, she started to lose her nerve. She had to stop thinking about him in order to get to him.
Instead, she recited quotes that she’d memorized from The Secrets of Love to herself. “In order for Love to conquer all, a woman must have a strong heart and a strong mind, particularly if her lover is one whom society disapproves of. But Love makes warriors of us all and gives us the courage to fight even the most impossible battles.”
The words steadied her, as did Malvis’s surprisingly encouraging help.
“You can do this,” Malvis kept saying to her. “It’s not far now. We’re almost there.”
The moment Letty’s feet touched the deck, she let out a cry of relief and despair. The cluster of men still shielded Martin from her view. She could see his boots sticking out from between two of them, but it was impossible to tell if he was moving. She rushed to him, shoving one of the pirates aside and dropping to her knees to grasp his hand.
“Martin,” she said, half wailing, half demanding. “Oh, Martin.”
When he moved, lifting his head slightly to look at her, Letty could have died with joy. “Yes,” he said in a quiet voice. “Weep and fuss over me. It will make the spy think things are worse than they are.”
Letty blinked, her breath freezing in her lungs. She took another, assessing look at him. There was very little blood for a man who had just been murdered by gunshot. Someone had removed Martin’s coat, revealing just a small stain of red on the inside of his arm and in a corresponding spot on his chest. Only the fabric of his sleeve was ripped, however. The stain on his chest must have come from that wound and not a bullet that had struck his heart.
“They missed,” he continued to whisper, squeezing Letty’s hand.
“Thank God,” she said in a shaky voice, clutching his hand in both of hers.
“The shot came from somewhere on this ship,” Rayburn told her. Letty hadn’t noticed that the handsome man knelt by Martin’s head, but now it dawned on her that he was in control of the situation.
“A traitor?” Letty gasped.
The other men surrounding Martin exchanged looks.
“It’s Dick,” Martin said. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“You almost did, Captain,” Rayburn said.
“I must not have rooted out all of his men the way I thought I did. He must still have agents on this ship,” Martin went on.
“Let’s take you down to the surgeon’s cabin,” Rayburn said. “Even if it is just a flesh wound, you need it to be dressed.”
Martin nodded. “Carry me, though,” he said. “If Dick thinks his plot has succeeded, he might let his guard down and give me an opportunity to wring his neck.”
The men hummed in agreement and positioned themselves so that they could hoist Martin into their arms. Letty stepped back and let them do their work. She found herself huddled against Malvis’s side, the angry woman’s arm around her shoulders.
“I despise foul play,” Malvis seethed. “Anyone who would plot such a deceptive attack should be strung up by their balls.” When Letty glanced to her in surprise, she went on with, “Of course it was a man. Only a man would be so underhanded.”
Letty was certain she was right, she just didn’t know what to make of the assessment or of Malvis.
She put the whole thing out of her mind as the two of them followed the men carrying Martin below to the surgeon’s cabin. The surgeon, a young, nervous man with spectacles named Rackstraw, immediately started fussing over Martin, but once the cabin door was closed, sealing their group into the too-small space, Martin struggled out of his men’s arms and stood on his own.
“Separating the two ships and putting Dick and his men on The Vixen wasn’t enough,” he said, ripping his shirt-sleeve so that Rackstraw could have access to the flesh the bullet had grazed. “This problem isn’t going to go away unless we deal with it head-on.”
“We should attack,” Malvis blurted with surprising vigor. “Why wait for them to try something else? You have a ship and a crew. Attack them, kill the bastards, and control both ships.”
The men in the room went dead silent, staring at her with wide eyes. Rackstraw stopped his ministrations on Martin’s arm, and even Martin gaped at Malvis.
“That’s certainly an option,” Martin said diplomatically.
“But you said the shot was fired by someone on this ship,” Letty said. “Did anyone see who?”
“No,” Rayburn and a few of the others said in unison. “Everyone was busy watching the two of you climb the mast.”
A wave of guilt struck Letty, but she thrust it aside. “What do we do next?”
The men were silent for another moment. At last, Martin said to Rackstraw, “When you’re finished with my arm, bandage my chest as well. We’ll make it look like that was where I was struck.”
“But what good will it do to appear weak?” Malvis demanded.
“If the captain appears weak, Dick will attack him,” Rayburn said, the light of inspiration making his fetching eyes even handsomer. “And when Dick is overconfident, he makes mistakes.”
“And if he makes mistakes, we can take him out more easily,” Malvis continued his thought, a wicked grin spreading ac
ross her face.
Letty shifted to Martin’s side, sending him a look that hinted at everything she and Malvis had talked about in the rigging and more. Martin returned her look with one that said he wanted to hear the whole story. But there wasn’t time.
A knock sounded on the door, followed by, “Captain, The Vixen is approaching. They’ll be alongside us within minutes.”
“Are they attacking?” Malvis asked, her eyes bright with excitement.
Rayburn shook his head. “If they were, they’d be firing by now.”
“Unless they think they can take The Growler without damage,” one of the other men said.
Rackstraw had Martin’s arm bandaged by that point and was busy lifting his shirt so he could wrap a bandage around his chest. Martin looked like some sort of marionette with his arms raised as he said, “Let Dick think his plot has succeeded and that I’m badly injured. I’ll do my best to act the part. We need to keep him aboard The Growler until he lets his guard down. With any luck, we’ll be able to end this thing without any loss of life.”
“But—” Malvis began to protest.
Rayburn silenced her with a hand to her arm. “Follow the captain’s lead for now. We may still get a fight even if we do things his way.”
Malvis let out a breath, her shoulders dropping, but she smiled at Rayburn with a hungry look all the same.
Letty finally relaxed as Rackstraw finished bandaging Martin’s chest. Everything that happened since she was captured had felt like an odd dream to begin with, so adding intrigue and the potential of a bloody conflict only barely made everything feel more surreal than it already did. One of Martin’s men dashed back to his cabin to fetch a new shirt, which was promptly torn in the area of Martin’s chest and splattered with blood donated by one of the loyal pirates who volunteered to be cut in order to help the ruse.
By the time they returned above deck, Martin being supported by Rayburn in order to make him appear badly wounded, The Vixen was so close to The Growler that even Letty could have thrown a stone and hit the main mast.
