The Sea Witch

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Land's End, Cornwall, 1665

  "I bring a message from our mutual friend." Two figures huddled in the cabin of a ship that flew no flag. The candles had been snuffed. The only illumination came from the moonlight that filtered through the small porthole "I hope he sent gold with his message." The voice was raspy from years at sea.

  There was the rattle of coin as the ell-dressed man reached into his pocket and withdrew a sack. "You do as our friend asks and you'll be a wealthy man."

  "Or a dead one." Work-roughened fingers grasped the sack. It disappeared from sight. "Now, tell me what it is he wants done."

  "What he wants, what we all want, is for Charles to remain a weak monarch, so that, when the time is right, a certain mutual friend can step forward and claim the throne. That will seal our fortune. But for now it means assuring that certain shipments of gold bound for the king never reach London."

  There was a low rumble of laughter. "My men and I have no problem with that. We were pirating these waters when the king was learning to walk."

  "Times have changed now. Charles has his own privateers, who know a thing or two about fighting back. That's why our mutual friend paid you so well. If you have to, hire an army to ride with you." He produced a rolled parchment. "This is a list of some of the ships' captains who are loyal to the king and have agreed to stand with him. I'll have more names soon. See that they're destroyed."

  "With pleasure."

  A bottle was produced, ale poured. The two lifted their glasses.

  "To England," the well-dressed man said. "And a new monarch."

  The second man gave a raspy laugh. "To gold in my pocket. That's the only king I serve."

  "Ambrosia, Bethany Lambert and her younger sister, Darcy, stepped into their oldest sister's room, then paused.

  "Oh, don't you look pretty." Bethany eyed the red satin gown Ambrosia was wearing, admiring the low, rounded neckline and long tapered sleeves. "Isn't that from the bolt of satin Papa brought from Paris on his last voyage?"

  "Aye." Ambrosia turned away from the window, where she'd been standing for the past half hour. In her entire ten and seven years, she'd never been concerned about her clothes. Nor was she today. She usually wore whatever their housekeeper, Mistress Coffey, made available to her. "There's no sign of the Undaunted."

  Bethany, younger by a year, caught her hands and began pulling her toward the door. "It'll be here. If not tonight, then tomorrow. Don't worry. Papa and James will be home soon."

  Darcy, the youngest at ten and five, couldn't hide her eagerness. "Grandpa and the others are already in the carriage."

  The three sisters were as different in looks and personality as it was possible to be. Ambrosia was as tall and robust as most men, with long legs and a slender but decidedly feminine figure. Her hair was the color of a raven's wing. As oldest, she was the acknowledged leader. What's more, she was absolutely fearless.

  Bethany had red hair, green eyes and a voluptuous figure that even the most modest of gowns couldn't hide. With a fiery nature to match her hair, she drew the eye of every man from cradle to coffin. Not that she minded. Her father claimed that she'd come into this world batting her lashes and twisting everyone around her finger.

  Darcy was tiny, delicate, with blond hair and laughing blue eyes and a nature so sweet it was impossible not to love her. There was a shyness about her that was irresistible.

  With reluctance, Ambrosia allowed herself to be led down the stairs and out the door.

  Old Newton Findlay offered her a hand up into the carriage. "Ye're looking fine, Ambrosia."

  "Thank you, Newt." She managed a smile for the old man, who had sailed with her grandfather and her father until he'd lost a leg to a shark. Now he hopped around in a strange, uneven gait caused by the wooden peg that served as a leg. Instead of sailing, he drove their carriage and helped around the grounds of the home they called MaryCastle, built on a spit of land that jutted into the Atlantic. The three young women had grown up hearing Newton's tales of his seagoing adventures.

  Newton had put on a jacket over his usual sailor's garb to placate the housekeeper, Mistress Coffey, who believed in strict rules of propriety.

  As Ambrosia settled herself beside her sisters, their housekeeper frowned. Mistress Coffey, a thin stick of a woman, had taken to wearing black when her husband lied more than twenty years ago. Today's black gown had a high neck, long sleeves, and was starched so stiffly it threatened to crack when she moved. Not a single white hair was allowed to slip free of the perfect coil at the nape of her neck. "Hurry, Newton. We don't want to be late for Edwina's tea."

  Ambrosia's head came up sharply. "I don't see why we should have to waste our time on Edwina's tea. Edwina Cannon is a silly, empty-headed twit."

  "Ambrosia." Shocked and outraged, their ancient nurse, Miss Winifred Mellon, put a hand to her mouth. The old woman had been brought as nurse to the children of MaryCastle years ago, when Captain John Lambert's beloved wife, Mary, had died unexpectedly. But when the children were grown, and no longer needed a nurse, they'd learned that this sweet old woman had nowhere to go, and so they had simply kept her on. She spent her days reminding them of their duties as proper young ladies. Whenever their behavior was especially outrageous, she would have one of her fainting spells. Her spells occurred so frequently, no one seemed to notice anymore. Family and staff alike simply went about their business until she came around.

  Because she was a maiden lady, and exceedingly proud of it, Winifred appeared only in white clothing. This day she was dressed in a gown of white wool. Over that she wore a heavy woolen shawl of purest white. Her white hair was as soft as a baby's, and fanned out around her pale face like cotton balls. She had even tied a white lace cap around her head, which Darcy thought looked like a sleeping cap.

  "Calling Edwina names is beneath you, Ambrosia," Winifred said with that note of disapproval they had heard since childhood. "Your father would be shocked to hear his daughter speak in such a manner. And what would your brother say about such unladylike behavior?"

  "James would agree with me, Winnie." Ambrosia's eyes flashed. "He escorted Edwina to a May Day picnic last year and said he couldn't detect a single thing in that empty little head of hers. All she cared about was her precious bonnet. Can you imagine wasting a whole day boasting of a bonnet? James is well rid of her."

  Winifred glanced at the housekeeper, and the two old women sighed. When it came to the defense of their older brother, James, the three Lambert sisters were as fierce as the king's soldiers. No woman would ever be good enough for him. As for their father, Captain John Lambert, his daughters were even more protective. Let no man speak ill of him. They adored him, and he returned their affection a hundredfold. Despite the fact that his duties as a ship's captain took him away from home for long periods of time, his daughters were devoted to him. Whenever he returned from the sea, their house rang with joyous laughter. His quick wit and charm made him a much loved leader in the tiny village of Land's End, as well as the rest of Cornwall.

  There was no denying that theirs was a handsome family. The captain and his son were tall and muscular, their skin ruddy from their time spent at sea. Many a woman young and old hoped to snag the interest of John or James Lambert. As for the three sisters, perhaps because of the early death of their mother, and the long absences of their father and older brother, they had formed a special bond. At times they seemed to need no one but each other. They were their own best friends and confidantes. But their independence worried their nurse and housekeeper.

  "You'd best learn to curb that tongue, Ambrosia," Winifred said sternly. When Bethany started to laugh, she turned on her. "And you'd best listen as well. Such impudence could become an impediment to making a proper marriage. "

/>   Ambrosia frowned. "If that be true, then I shall simply remain as I am. Alone, and enjoying my own company, Winnie. For I'll not forsake my independence for any man. "

  "Nor will I, " Bethany echoed. "If a man can't love me for myself, he isn't worth the time of courtship. "

  Sweet Darcy nodded in agreement.

  This had Mistress Coffey shaking her head in despair. "Then I'll remind you that you could find yourselves the only three spinsters in Land's End. "

  Seeing the shocked look in Winifred Mellon's eyes, the housekeeper's face flamed. To cover her lapse she sputtered, "At least you behave like a lady, Miss Mellon. What man would possibly want a wife who would rather sail than sew?"

  From the driver's seat old Newton snickered. "A man's man, that's who. A man of the sea. "

  "See?" Geoffrey Lambert, dressed in his finest captain's coat and hat, cocked an ear toward Newton. "What did you see?"

  Geoffrey had been one of England's finest sea captains until an accident with a misfired cannon had left him almost completely deaf. Now he spent his days regaling his granddaughters with tales of his adventures, and teaching them everything he could about survival at sea.

  According to Mistress Coffey, he used his misfortune to hear only what he chose to hear.

  "What I see is an old fool, " she said under her breath. "Ah, here's the Cannon estate now. And look how many Ape carriages are here ahead of us. "

  Ambrosia exchanged a look with her two sisters. Mistress Coffey detested being late.

  "Now remember what I told you, " the housekeeper lectured sternly. "Lord Silas Fenwick is a most important man in London. It's rumored that he's decided it's time to take a wife, and that he's come here to look over our eligible young maidens. Behave yourselves, and you may be able to snag a very wealthy husband. "

  As they filed inside, each sister took a deep breath, preparing for an hour of tedium.

  "Ambrosia. Bethany. Darcy. " Edwina Cannon's shrill voice assaulted them the minute they stepped into the parlor. "You must come meet Lord Silas Fenwick. "

  The three sisters studied the tall, elegantly dressed young man with sandy hair and a handsome, patrician face.

  "Lord Fenwick, I'd like to present the Lambert sisters. Ambrosia, Bethany and Darcy. "

  "Ladies. " He caught the hand of each in turn and, with a soulful look guaranteed to cause a flutter to young maidens' hearts, lifted it to his lips.

  Edwina had her fingers locked around his arm in a death grip. "Lord Fenwick said he simply had to take tea with Mama and me, in order to see our lovely estate. You must come over here and let me tell you how we met. "

  "Must we?" Ambrosia saw the way his brow arched, but in truth, she didn't care. Not about Lord Silas Fenwick or Edwina Cannon, or how they'd happened to meet. All she could think about was that Papa might arrive home while they were out, and she would miss his homecoming.

  "What a fine looking gentleman, " Mistress Coffey was saying to Edwina's mother.

  "He's been showing considerable interest since his arrival in Land's End. They make a lovely couple, don't you think?" Mistress Cannon saw the frown on the housekeeper's face and decided to drive home her point. "With Edwina's beauty and his wealth, they'd have such a fine life. Did I tell you that he said he'd insist that his wife keep a home in London?"

  "How could anyone leave Cornwall for London?" Ambrosia remarked.

  In the silence that fell over the room, Geoffrey Lambert held a hand to his ear. "Eh? What's done?"

  "London, Grandpapa, " Bethany shouted. "Oh. London. Filthy place, " the old man muttered. Lord Silas Fenwick cleared his throat, striving to regain control of the festivities. "This is a lovely time of year in Cornwall. I noticed quite a few ships in the harbor. "

  Ambrosia accepted a cup of tea and a fancy pastry. "Our father's ship, the Undaunted, should be coming in any day now. "

  "I've heard of your father, Captain John Lambert. Your brother, James, is also aboard, isn't he?"

  "Aye. " Ambrosia's eyes lit with sudden pleasure. "Do you know them, Lord Fenwick?"

  "I haven't met them. But my grandfather founded one of England's finest import businesses, which I've inherited. I've made it my business to know many of England's ships and their captains. "

  "Do you sail, Lord Fenwick?" He smiled. "My interests lay more with business than sailing. But I do own a lovely ship, the Sea Devil. I've taken the king on several cruises along the Thames. " Edwina Cannon's eyes widened. "You mean you actually entertain the king of England, Silas?"

  "Aye. " He patted her hand, then smiled indulgently. "Perhaps someday I'll introduce you to him. I know he'll find you as charming as I do. "

  While Edwina giggled, Ambrosia set aside her tea with a clatter. "Oh, my, Mistress Coffey. I do believe we should be starting home. "

  "Home?" The housekeeper looked flustered. "But, Ambrosia, we just got here. "

  "I can see that Grandpapa is growing weary. " She looked over at the old man, who was staring into space. "Grandpapa, are you ready to leave?"

  "Sleeve?" He glanced down. "Is there something on my sleeve?"

  "Leave, Grandpapa, " Darcy shouted into his ear. "Would you like to leave?"

  "Aye. Had my fill of sweets. Tea, too. " He yawned. "Might take a nap before dinner. "

  Ambrosia leapt at the opportunity. Putting a hand under his elbow, she helped him to his feet.

  Edwina stood and followed them to the door, towing Lord Fenwick with her. "But you haven't even heard how Silas and I met, Ambrosia. And I so wanted to tell you. " She wrapped her hands around his arm again, staring up into his eyes.

  Eyes, Ambrosia thought with sudden insight, that looked bored. As though he'd rather be anywhere than here with this silly female. The man must be desperate for a wife if he'd waste his time on Edwina Cannon.

  She managed a smile. "You can save it for our next tea, Edwina. But Grandpapa's comfort must come first. You understand. "

  "I suppose so. " Edwina offered her cheek, and the three sisters dutifully brushed their lips over skin that reeked of rosewater.

  As they made their way to the waiting carriage, Silas watched with interest. Then, seeing Edwina's look, he turned to her with a sly smile. "A... colorful family. "

  "They're considered strange by everyone here in Land's End. The sailors say the three sisters can sail a boat as well as any man. And they've been known to handle weapons as well. "

  "Weapons? You jest. "

  "Nay. It's true. Ambrosia can wield a sword as well as any man. Bethany has been seen shooting a coin from the branch of a tree with her father's dueling pistol. And Darcy can bring down a bird in flight with the toss of her knife. " As the carriage rolled out of sight, she sighed. "All in Land's End are convinced the three Lambert sisters are doomed to spinsterhood. What man would ever want a wife who'd rather brawl like a common sailor than sew and cook?"

  "Ambrosia. " Bethany and Darcy stepped out onto the widow's walk, the wide balcony that ran the length of the upper story of their house overlooking the sea.

  The wind here was always brutal, gathering strength us it rolled across the endless miles of the Atlantic. Both young women drew their shawls around their shoulders as they faced into the breeze, hair flying wildly, skirts whipping about their legs. They made their way to where their oldest sister stood.

  "Mistress Coffey says you're to come inside.” Bethany's voice could hardly be heard above the roar of wind and waves. "Before you catch your death.”

  "Tell Mistress Coffey that I intend to stay here and watch for Papa. " Bethany shook her head. "Come inside, Ambrosia. Grandpapa is looking forward to your company at table. "

  Ambrosia turned and both her sisters could see the troubled look in the depths of those dark eyes. "Papa's ship should have been back days ago. "

  "Don't say that. It's bad luck. " Bethany caught her sister's hand, as much to draw strength from her as to offer comfort. They were all concerned. But until now, none had dared speak the words aloud. "You know h
ow it is when Papa and James put into some far-off port. There are goods to be bartered. Fresh crew to hire. And supplies to be loaded aboard ship for the return voyage. "

  Ambrosia's hands clenched at her sides. "Go and placate Mistress Coffey and Grandpapa. As for me, I'll stay here awhile, and hope to catch the first glimpse of the Undaunted's masts. "

  The two younger sisters glanced at each other, then positioned themselves on either side of her. The warmth of the fire awaiting them inside was forgotten. As was the comfort of the meal their housekeeper had prepared.

  "We'll all stay. " Darcy's hand found its way into Ambrosia's.

  "Aye. Together. " On the other side of her, Bethany squeezed her fingers.

  These three were determined to be, as they had been since childhood, a formidable wall of strength against the unknown. Whatever fear was in their hearts, they would face it together.

  But it wasn't to be. It wasn't the cold that finally brought the three sisters indoors. It was old Newton, who came upon them in the fog that rolled in just before dusk. A fog so thick it blanketed the land, making it impossible to see beyond the railing of their porch.

  Bellowing orders in that same voice he'd always used aboard their father's ship, he shouted, "Ye'll get indoors now, lasses. Or I'll carry ye in meself. "

  Without a word of protest they scurried inside, and followed him down the stairs. Nobody but Newton would dare to treat them in such a manner. But the old sailor had known them since their birth. It was he who had taught them how to haul sails, to climb to the top of a mast, and how to chart a course by reading the stars. Just as he'd taught their father years before them.

  Now he shuffled in that strange, unsteady gait. At the door he turned. "Watchin' won't bring yer father and brother home. Now go and eat, before old Miss Mellon takes one of her spells. "

  "Winnie's spells only seem to come on whenever she thinks one of us is behaving in an unladylike manner, " Bethany muttered.

  "Aye. So go now. And behave yerselves like ladies. " Chastised, they nodded and left. But not without giggling over their old retired nurse, who now spent her days listening to Grandpapa repeat the tales of the sea he'd told a hundred times or more. And arguing with old Newton about the improprieties of teaching young ladies how to sail and handle weapons. All of which gave their housekeeper, the elderly Mistress Coffey, even more reason to complain about the three old people who seemed always underfoot when she and the servants were trying to do their work.