Frigid Waters (Ladies of Loomcroft) (5 page)

“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 answer 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 attacking 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.

The ocean's water was like ice as it engulfed her falling form.  She had closed her eyes, but she could feel the light on her face above her.  She kicked as hard as she could, but with each kick her skirt-trousers fought her.  She had just managed to break the surface and gasp a breath before she was pulled back down.

Belladonna's legs burned and she knew she couldn't keep up the fight.  She was losing.  Suddenly, arms locked around her middle.  She was being pulled against the waves.  Finally, the cool ocean air blew against her face for longer than a few seconds at a time.  She forced herself to take deep slow breaths. 

She opened her eyes, but her rescuer was securely behind her.  His grip tightened and he spoke in her ear, “Hold on, they'll be pulling us up now.”

The next thing she knew she was on her knees on a heap on the deck of the ship coughing up sea water.  “Thank you, sir,”  she got out between coughs.  Once she got a good look at the man who had saved her, she could have kicked herself.  The look in his eyes told her that George was furious.

“Think nothing of it, Miss Loomcroft.”  He said.  Then he scooped her up in his arms and started carrying her towards a door on the upper deck.