The Gilded Fan (Choc Lit) (10 page)

Perhaps I did the right thing after all?

Should any of the others harbour any thoughts along the lines of Barker’s, they could now see for themselves what sort of a woman they would be up against. Here was no common tavern wench to be easily persuaded, but a woman of steely determination, as he had witnessed for himself. And he had no doubt from now on she would be vigilant, as would he.

He glanced over to where the English crew members were standing. Barker was usually at their centre, and without him they looked uneasy, yet defiant. Nico frowned. Most of them were troublemakers and he’d keep a closer eye on them from now on.

I should never have hired them
. It had seemed expedient at the time to replace those sailors who had died on the outward journey with these willing Englishmen, but now he wondered if perhaps he should have searched harder for Dutchmen.

When the punishment was over at last and Barker had been removed from sight, Midori turned and walked calmly towards her quarters, her back ramrod straight. Nico tried to force himself to look elsewhere, but his eyes kept straying in her direction. Her long, straight hair shone with deep red highlights in the sunshine. It had been loosely tied into a tail as before, and hung down past her backside. And that backside … Beneath the
kimono
, he could see the swinging of her hips as she walked, calling to him, making him want to run after her and …

He turned away and stared out to sea, gritting his teeth. ‘God’s wounds,’ he muttered.
She’s just a woman like any other and I have to go without, same as everyone else, during this journey.

‘Captain?’

He swung around to find another of his English crew members standing behind him and frowned, even though it was one of the few decent ones. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone and opened his mouth to tell the man to go away and leave him alone. The sailor was looking slightly embarrassed, however, and since he was enormous and normally unruffled by even the most unusual of happenings, this made Nico swallow the harsh words out of mere curiosity. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever hearing the man speak before, except to say yes or no to an order.

‘Yes? Harding, isn’t it?’ The man appeared to be gathering his thoughts and Nico swallowed a sigh of impatience.

‘Yes, sir. I was thinkin’, it seems to me you need someone to watch over that there lady for you, so I’m offerin’ my services. I wouldn’t let no harm come to her, I swear, and I’ll kill anyone as comes within ten yards of her with my bare hands.’

Nico blinked. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said …’ Harding shuffled his feet and stared at the deck.

‘Yes, yes, I heard what you said, but why?’

‘Well, we wouldn’t want this to happen again.’ Harding swept an arm out to indicate the scene of the recent flogging where the deck planks were still stained with blood. ‘The men were mutterin’ and all, and we can’t have such a tiny lady bein’ hurt again, neither.’ He seemed to run out of steam and just stared at the captain while wiping his forehead with the sleeve of a grimy shirt.

Nico frowned. ‘And why should I trust her with you?’ He looked at the man’s arms, which were as thick as small tree trunks, and his beefy neck on top of a massive chest and body. ‘Is this another one of Barker’s ideas?’

‘No, sir. I never bother talkin’ to him. Man’s a fool and I want nothin’ to do with him. But the little lady, sir, I would never hurt her. I have a daughter just like her, all dainty and small, but with a backbone like you wouldn’t believe,’ Harding said, as if that explained everything. And perhaps to him it did, Nico thought. He weighed up his options, then made up his mind and nodded.

‘Very well, Harding, you may guard her, but if you so much as touch one hair on her head, I’ll have your guts.’

Harding put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. ‘I won’t, I swear. She’ll be safe with me.’

Nico wasn’t sure why, but he trusted this giant and relief flooded through him at the thought that Midori would be properly guarded. ‘Come with me then, I’ll introduce you.’

Midori hadn’t expected to see the captain again so soon, and certainly not with a man-mountain in tow. Mr Harding reminded her of the
sumo
wrestlers she had seen in Edo when she’d last visited that city, although he was surely bigger than any of them because he was so tall as well.

‘He is to guard me, you say?’ she asked, wondering if Mr Harding would even be able to squeeze through the door to her cabin if he was needed.

‘Yes, he volunteered,’ Captain Noordholt said.

‘In that case, I thank you, Mr Harding.’ She bowed to the man, who bowed back as best he could in the confined space.

‘My pleasure, mistress.’

The captain gave Harding one last appraising look, then turned to Midori. She noticed the anger was gone from his gaze and, in the sunlight streaming in through the portholes, his eyes were as blue as a summer sky. The sight made her feel slightly breathless.

‘You did well up there.’ He nodded towards the deck where the flogging had taken place. ‘Most people find such sights … difficult. I’m sorry to have subjected you to it; that was wrong of me. I’m afraid I acted in the heat of the moment.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse and it was no more than he deserved.’

‘Indeed. I doubt there will be any more trouble now. What with Harding to guard you and the example I’ve made of Barker, you should be safe. Perhaps it would be better if you came up on deck occasionally, instead of hiding away down here? You’ll be less of a mystery.’

‘I should be glad of some fresh air and exercise. I was merely trying to stay out of the way.’

‘I’m sure the odd excursion now and again won’t do any harm if Harding is with you. Well, that’s settled then.’ Captain Noordholt bowed to her. ‘And now I’d best return to my duties. Goodbye.’

Midori stared after him and said without thinking, ‘He doesn’t smile very often, does he?’ She’d wanted to see that blue gaze twinkling again.

Harding guffawed. ‘’Course he don’t. Bein’ a cap’n is a big responsibility. He can’t let anyone think he’s soft, now, can he? That would be plain daft.’

‘I don’t think there’s any risk of that,’ Midori muttered. ‘Now tell me, Mr Harding, why did you volunteer to guard me?’

‘Just call me Harding, mistress, everyone else does. And as I told the cap’n, I have a daughter just like you. Wouldn’t want no harm to come to her and since there’s no one to look out for you here, I just thought …’

‘You’re very kind. Please, sit down and tell me more about your family and your country. You are from England, I understand?’ Harding nodded. ‘Then perhaps you could be so kind as to describe it for me so that I know what to expect?’

A huge grin split Harding’s face. ‘Of course, it’ll be my pleasure.’

With Harding shadowing her every step, Midori could go up on deck if she wanted to, but most of the time she stayed in her cabin. Despite what the captain had said, she preferred to keep out of sight and not remind the sailors of her presence on board. The few times she did venture out, however, she forgot about everyone else as she found her eyes straying repeatedly to the captain. The man fascinated her and she studied him covertly, taking in the dark golden hair blowing in the breeze, the blue eyes half shut against the sun’s rays and his assured stance as he gave orders.

He’s half a head taller than most of the sailors, so I can’t really miss him,
she tried to justify this unseemly interest in the man to herself.
And he is the captain after all, so he’s bound to stand out.
But she knew that wasn’t the real reason.

He’d reverted to foreign clothing again – woollen knee breeches, a long-sleeved white linen shirt with a collar, slightly open at the neck, and a leather waistcoat which she’d heard someone call a jerkin. Unlike the other crew members who went barefoot, he also wore hose and leather shoes.

‘Is the captain a hard taskmaster?’ she asked Harding when she saw him noticing her glance in Noordholt’s direction.

‘Yes, but he’s not unjust,’ the big Englishman replied. ‘So far as I’ve seen, he’d never ask anyone to do somethin’ he couldn’t do hisself. And whenever the weather’s been bad, he’s helped out. I even saw him up in the riggin’ once, though he could’ve sent someone else.’

Midori was glad to hear it. She also gathered he never raised his voice unnecessarily, despite his stern façade, and didn’t need to. And he knew everyone’s name and often stopped to speak with individual sailors. This seemed to ensure his commands were always obeyed with alacrity. Several times Midori saw him overlook minor misdemeanours, except to show the crew member in question with a look that such behaviour wouldn’t be tolerated a second time. Everyone appeared to respect him, and no wonder, she thought, when he showed himself to be fair in his dealings with them.

One particular incident made Midori warm to him more than ever. The captain was walking along the deck when the youngest member of the crew, a twelve-year-old boy named Ben, hurried past with a bucket of dirty water. As he overtook the captain, he somehow managed to bump the bucket against his legs and half the disgusting contents sloshed out, drenching the captain’s shoes.

‘Oh, no!’ the boy exclaimed, staring at the captain with horror in his eyes. Midori held her breath, expecting dire consequences for the boy. He was obviously too frightened to even utter an apology, but to both his and Midori’s surprise, the captain burst out laughing and shook one foot with a rueful expression.

‘Less haste, more speed, Ben,’ he said and ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Try to look where you’re going, eh?’

‘But, but … your shoes, sir! I, I’m so sorry, I …’

‘They’ll dry, don’t worry. Now get on with your work, little one. You’re doing well.’

Midori heard Harding chuckle behind her. ‘Is he always so lenient?’ she asked him.

‘With the little ’uns, yes, but not anyone else, although accidents happen and the cap’n’s not one to explode unnecessarily. He’d not punish someone for just being clumsy.’

Midori was impressed. The more she learned of the man, the more he went up in her estimation. If only he wasn’t always angry with her, but then he hadn’t wanted her as a passenger at all.

During a brief walk round the deck at dusk one day, Midori and Harding came across the ship’s surgeon,
Mijnheer
de Jong, bandaging a sailor’s leg. A nasty gash on the shin was oozing blood and as the sailor jumped and swore every time he was touched, the surgeon had his work cut out to help him.

‘Good evening,’ Midori said politely and the man replied in Dutch, somewhat distractedly.

‘He can’t speak to you, seein’ as he’s Dutch, but I can translate for you,’ Harding offered.

‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’

She didn’t really have anything to say to the man, however, but as she watched the surgeon struggle to apply the bandage in a rather clumsy fashion, a thought occurred to her. De Jong was long past his prime. His hands shook slightly and some of the fingers on his right hand were bent by arthritis and obviously painful. ‘I don’t suppose you need any help with tending the sick and injured? I have some experience of such things and would be pleased to offer my assistance,’ she said.

She waited while Harding translated this, and saw the surgeon’s eyes light up. De Jong nodded and a torrent of words came out.

‘He says you’d be most welcome to help,’ Harding replied on his behalf. ‘You can make a start with this here bandage, if you have nimble fingers. The surgeon’s havin’ some trouble, as you can see.’

‘I’d be glad to.’

As Midori set to work, Harding grabbed hold of the injured man as if he was afraid he’d lash out at her. Midori smiled and said, ‘Please tell him I’ll be as gentle as I can.’

Harding did as he was bid and the sailor relaxed slightly. It didn’t take Midori long to tie the bandage neatly in place, earning a look of gratitude from the victim as well as the surgeon.

‘
Dank u wel, mevrouw
.’

‘You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do? Prepare some ointment perhaps?’

Harding translated and de Jong beckoned her to come along to his cabin. ‘He says it’s best you come and see what he’s got, then you can discuss what needs to be done. Shall we go?’

Life on board a ship the size of the
Zwarte Zwaan
was often dangerous, and Midori was both surprised and pleased to be called upon frequently to help de Jong during the weeks that followed. There were outbreaks of fever, stomach problems and various accidents, and Midori enjoyed having something to do. It helped fill the endless hours that stretched before her each day. With Harding accompanying her she wasn’t afraid to tend sick men as they lay in their hammocks, and her skills in preparing ointments and
tisanes
of every description came in very useful. The men seemed to approve of her light touch and no one was disrespectful, at least not to her face.

De Jong was grateful to her. Via Harding he told her this was his last voyage. ‘I hope to retire when we return to Amsterdam,’ he said. ‘I’m feeling my age and I’m not as able to keep up with this work as I did in my youth. Your assistance is most welcome.’ The man smiled at her and added, ‘I thank God for sending you to help me.’

Nico, meanwhile, was not having a very good voyage. He suffered from a restlessness he couldn’t subdue, and he knew the cause of it only too well – he couldn’t get Midori out of his mind.

Wherever he went, he caught glimpses of her, or so it seemed. Her serene beauty and calm demeanour drew him like a magnet. Time and again he found his steps moving in her direction without conscious thought, until he realised what he was doing and turned away again. It annoyed him that she should have this hold over him, especially since he didn’t seem to affect her one whit. Although scrupulously polite, she never sought him out.

‘Well, perhaps I can change that?’ he muttered. Women weren’t usually indifferent to him and he’d had no trouble in the past when it came to enticing them into his bed. Why should this one be any different?

Not that I want to bed Midori!
Well, he did, truth to tell, but had no intention of going that far.
A little light flirtation wouldn’t hurt though, would it?
Just to pass the time. He grinned to himself. Yes, why not enjoy her company while he could? In a purely platonic way, of course.

It was a particularly hot day in the third week of their voyage, and Nico had been walking along the deck, trying to shut his ears to the sound of feminine laughter. It was driving him insane and the Lord only knew what it was doing to the rest of the crew. Low-pitched and musical, it ate away at his senses, teasing him mercilessly. What was entertaining her so? He wondered how Midori could find such happiness in the company of Harding and the cabin boy, not to mention the surgeon.

No reason why she can’t be as happy spending time with me, damn it.

His decision made, he walked in the direction of the merriment. As he came nearer, the clacking noise of a pair of dice being thrown against a wooden surface mingled with Midori’s laughter and he peered into the small corridor outside her cabin. He wasn’t pleased by what he saw, as he didn’t encourage gambling among his crew, but it was the perfect opportunity to try and rattle her composure a little.

She was kneeling on the floor, wearing another plain kimono, this time in a dark shade of russet. Her legs were tucked demurely underneath her. Next to her, Harding and Jochem were seated cross-legged, so close they almost touched her.

‘What’s going on here?’ Nico demanded, trying his best to sound stern.

Three surprised faces looked up at him as one, and the laughter stopped abruptly.

‘Harding and Jochem are teaching me backgammon,’ Midori replied calmly. ‘We’re playing for money.’ She indicated a small pile of silver coins heaped next to her on the floor.

‘I can see that.’ Nico frowned. ‘Should you be gambling away what I assume is your inheritance or dowry?’ It occurred to him to wonder if she even had a dowry, and if so, where she kept it hidden. Not that it was any of his business, but he didn’t want his crew tempted by the lure of silver as well as her charms.

It was Midori’s turn to frown. ‘I’m only playing with a small amount.’

‘That’s what all gamblers say.’ Nico nodded as if she’d proved his point.

‘She’s winnin’ Captain,’ Harding added. ‘Has the devil’s own luck, she does.’

‘That’s neither here nor there. Lady Midori might be winning at the moment, but once the gambling fever sets in, she may not be so lucky.’

‘Gambling fever? What’s that? I’ve never heard of such an illness.’ Midori looked confused, her usual calm expression slipping a little for once.

Nico hid a smile. ‘It’s when a person becomes addicted to excessive gaming. They can’t help themselves and gamble until they have nothing left.’

‘I’m not such a lackwit!’

‘Perhaps you don’t think so now,’ Nico countered.

‘I know so,’ she said calmly. ‘Besides, there’s nothing else to do and it passes the time.
Mijnheer
de Jong doesn’t need my help today and I can’t tidy my cabin and practise swordplay all day. Nor write poetry. Now please, if you don’t intend to join us, kindly let us continue with our game. I’m sure you are very busy.’ Midori turned back to the game and began to shake the dice inside her cupped hands, dismissing Nico as if he were of no importance. He’d seen the look in her eyes, though, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. She was definitely not indifferent to him at the moment.
Excellent!

‘I shall join you,’ he announced and sat down on the floor next to the others, folding his long legs with some difficulty. ‘I’ll show you what I mean and perhaps when you’re penniless you’ll understand. Start the game again, if you please.’

Midori threw him a suspicious glance, as if she mistrusted his motives, but rearranged the pieces on the board nonetheless. ‘Very well.’

‘Jochem, you may begin.’

‘Y-yes, Captain.’ The cabin boy looked uncertain, but Nico gave him a reassuring nod which put him at ease.

The weather had grown steadily warmer as they sailed south, and the perspiration poured off Harding’s bald head as the game went on. Nico could feel his own scalp prickling in the heat, but Midori showed no signs of suffering likewise. From time to time she lifted a fan to cool herself, although she didn’t seem to need it very often. It was a beautiful object, richly decorated with coloured flowers on a gold and silver background, an exquisite thing which must have cost a small fortune.

‘How do you do that, Mistress Midori?’ Harding complained after a while, his face bright red and shiny by this time.

‘Do what?’

‘Stay so cool. Anyone’d think it was the middle of winter, lookin’ at you.’

Midori smiled. ‘I have been trained to cope with extremes in temperature. My body accepts them if my mind tells it to.’

‘Hmph.’ Poor Harding obviously couldn’t make his brain understand such reasoning and Midori passed him the fan to relieve his suffering somewhat.

When he gave it back again after a while, Nico said, ‘May I borrow it too, please?’ Midori nodded and handed it to him. He made sure his fingers brushed hers as he took it, and noticed her twitch a little. ‘Thank you.’ He looked into her eyes and saw hers widen in response.
Good, she feels the connection between us, too
.
So underneath the calm façade, she’s just like any other woman
.

But he knew he was in danger of being more affected by her proximity than she was by his and he started to regret joining the game. Not only was he uncomfortable in the enclosed corridor where the heat appeared much worse than on deck, but he was having trouble concentrating while sitting so close to Midori. He glanced at her and immediately wished he hadn’t. Her dark auburn hair had been pinned loosely on top of her head with what looked to Nico like a pair of eating sticks. Soft tendrils fell forward to caress her cheeks as she concentrated on the dice in her hands. Nico silently gritted his teeth.

No woman should be allowed to look that delectable.
He wanted to carry her off to his cabin this instant and …

He stifled a sigh. That wasn’t what he’d come down here for.
A light flirtation,
that’s all,
he reminded himself. And he wanted to find out more about her – her thoughts, her likes and dislikes, what made her happy or sad.
I should just talk to her.
But something held him back.

One thing he did find out, and quickly, was that she was an excellent backgammon player and Harding had been right – she had the devil’s own luck. However hard he tried, he couldn’t make her lose and any lesson he had intended soon went out of the window.

‘Have you played before?’ he asked, knowing he sounded grumpy, but unable to do anything about it.

‘Not this particular game, but we have other board games. I played sometimes with my ladies.’