The Seahorse (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

The dancers whirled about on the highly polished dance floor. Young men, some wealthy planter's sons, others wearing the distinctive dress uniform of either the Navy or the Army mingled about. They were each trying to catch some girl's eye with their dress and swagger. The young women were dressed in brightly colored gowns of various descriptions, designed to show off each young lady's attributes.

Lord Anthony and Lady Deborah were taking a breather and enjoying a cool glass of Sangria. Gabe approached them and accepted a glass from a passing servant.

“Faith looks beautiful tonight,” Deborah volunteered.

“Aye,” Gabe responded, proud of his wife. “She seems to be enjoying herself. She has promised at least one dance to every officer aboard
Peregrine
.”

“It's good she can enjoy herself,” Anthony replied. “This is what she needs to put her recent ordeal behind her.”

“Here comes Lord Ragland,” Gabe spoke quietly. “I see he has our Foreign Service gentleman with him.”

“Aye,” Anthony replied. He didn't know why but he always had bad feelings when Sir Victor was around. He was a genuine fellow and well mannered so Anthony could only sum up his feelings with one word…spy.

“Greetings Gil,” Lord Ragland said, using Anthony's given name. He then turned to Deborah, bowed and said, “My lady you look positively radiant tonight.”

Anthony agreed wholeheartedly and could not wait till the evening was over and he was alone with his wife.

Wiping his face with a lace handkerchief, Ragland volunteered, “It's hellish hot tonight.”

Even with the great French windows opened wide to allow what wind there was to sweep through the governor's house, the heat was still intense. The faces of the dancers were all red and gleamed with sweat. Collars had been pulled loose and were damp with perspiration. The amount of spirits that had been consumed was also taking its toll. The glowing chandelier that hung from the high ceiling flickered as a pleasant, cooling breeze found its way through the open windows.

“Thank the Lord for that,” Deborah said. “I felt like I was about to melt.”

Once the dance was over, black red-liveried menservants circulated through the crowd, offering trays of cool beverages. The orchestra made up of free black men laid down their instruments, sweating from the last number, which had been a tune played at a fast tempo.

Faith made her way across the dance floor and after a whisper in Deborah's ear the ladies excused themselves.

“Ladies always excuse themselves in pairs,” Sir Victor exclaimed. “If men were to do that it would soon be rumoured they were sodomites.”

Drink was definitely making itself evident. His speech was somewhat slurred and his statement while true was not the gentlemanly thing to mention at such a gathering. Across the dance floor Gabe spied Lieutenant Davy. He was in conversation with a young lady of twenty or so years.

She had sun-streaked blond hair that hung down in curls to either side of her ears. Her gown was a pink silk. She carried a green embroidered fan that she flicked about as she talked. A strand of pearls hung around her neck and fell between two creamy white breasts that were pushed up by a tight corset. In spite of the West Indies heat and humidity the girl was stunning…absolutely stunning. Not a drop of perspiration was seen.

“I see Lieutenant Davy is fairly intrigued.”

“Aye,” Anthony responded to Gabe's remark.

“Young love,” Ragland volunteered.

“Quim…not love. Quim is what's on that boy's mind,” Sir Victor said with a belch.

“Ahem…she has breeding and wealth,” Ragland said, overlooking Sir Victor's drunken state.

“Matters little when she's in heat,” Sir Victor spoke again. “They all act the same when they're in heat. It matters little who they are, street strumpet or Queen of Sheba.”

Realizing things were about to become embarrassing, Anthony caught the eye of his flag lieutenant and motioned him over.

“Mr Hazard, Sir Victor is feeling the ill effects of the heat. Would you be so kind as to escort him back to his quarters and assist him in his preparations to retire for the evening?”

“My pleasure, My Lord,” said Hazard, who clearly didn't relish the idea of dealing with a drunk.

“Thank you, sir,” Lord Ragland said. “I don't know what has come over our friend. Most unbecoming I declare.”

“We have all had moments we'd rather forget,” Anthony said, not wanting to make more of the situation than it warranted. Turning back he was just in time to see Lieutenant Davy and the young lady disappear through the open doorway.
Taking a
breather
, he thought…
I hope
.

Lieutenant Davy was living a dream. He'd never been so close to such a beautiful creature. His heart pounded as hand in hand they walked through the garden to a small bench that sat under a gazebo. As the two sat down fireflies winked and inside the orchestra started to play again. Davy leaned over and kissed Annabelle. Her perfume mingled with the scent of flowers that filled the little garden. As their lips met, Annabelle took Davy's hand and brought it against her chest.

“I love you,” she whispered as once again her lips sought and found his.

Davy's hand was now resting upon the softness of her breast.
I think I'm in
heaven
, he thought as he cupped her breast while her hand drifted down to below his waist…to his erect manhood.

“You whore! You bitch of a whore.”

Not believing his ears, Davy opened his eyes to find an irate young man staring down upon the two as they sat on the bench.

Annabelle glared at the man shouting down obscenities. “You cad,” she spat back in a raging fury.

Davy, now raging himself, rose abruptly and said, “Apologize, sir. I demand it.”

“Demand it? I couldn't give a tinker's damn what you or this whore demand.”

Without thinking, Davy slapped the lout. The sound echoed in the night and it became deathly still.

“That's enough.” This came from Marine Lieutenant Baugean.

Davy, seething with anger, again demanded, “You'll apologize to the lady, sir.”

“I've never apologized in my life and I'll never apologize for speaking the truth.”

“Liar!” Annabelle screamed.

The music had stopped and hearing the commotion outside the dancers walked out onto the terrace.

Still feeling the sting on his face from Davy's slap, the man said, “You'll answer to me for that, sir.”

Gabe, Lord Anthony, and Lord Ragland had just made it through the door when the man made his remark.

“Leave this house now, young sir!” Lord Ragland roared.

“I had that in mind, sir,” the man said bowing. “I find the company insufferable.”

Davy took a step forward, determined to defend Annabelle's honour.

“And you, sir,” the man smirked, “are a fool to defend what Annabelle doesn't possess.” Still touching his face the man continued, “Nevertheless you've marked me so I will have satisfaction.”

Turning to Baugean, Davy said, “I'll need a second.”

Baugean came to attention, clicked his heels together, and gave a slight bow.

“Good,” the man said. “My second will be contacting you upon the morrow to make the arrangements.” The man then turned to Lord Ragland. “I apologize for spoiling your ball, sir. However, the fault was not mine.”

***

Lord Anthony sat in a cushioned leather chair discussing the previous evening's events with Governor Lord Ragland. “Annabelle's father, Sir William Bolton, is the second richest plantation owner on the island. Jonathan Penn, the young man who demanded satisfaction from your lieutenant, is a bit of a hothead. He is given to drink, gambling, and the weekly visit to Peg's place for a romp. Jonathan's father…ere stepfather, is Mr Winston Penn. He's the wealthiest man on the island. They moved here from the Colonies back in 1758. He did not like the view the Puritans took when he married a woman with a child. He has succeeded where others failed and has bought a couple of plantations thereby adding to his original holdings. He is a hands-on type of gentleman and meets with his foreman and overseers daily.”

“You've discovered all this in the few months you've been here? It's incredible,” Anthony said.

Smiling, Lord Ragland responded, “The favourite pastime on an island such as Barbados is gossip. Lend a willing ear and you'd be surprised what you'll hear.”

Seeing Lord Ragland's glass was empty, a manservant poured more lime juice from a pewter pitcher. There was obviously ice still in the container as the outside was beaded with condensation. Once his and Lord Anthony's glasses were refilled, Lord Ragland continued.

“The rumour is Sir William is in debt to Mr Penn. It is also rumoured that for all his money, the one thing Mr Penn doesn't have is a title. A marriage would produce…hopefully produce grandchildren that would be titled. If an arrangement were to be made so that Jonathan and Annabelle married, it is hinted that all debts would be forgiven.”

“I see,” Anthony said.

“Looking at the prospects on the island,” Ragland continued, “Annabelle had probably resolved herself to the fact that she would eventually become Mrs. Penn. Though I'm told she has never relished the idea. They have been seen together for the last several months at all the socials and parties but anyone paying attention could tell she doesn't love the lout. Then here comes the dashing young, heroic Navy lieutenant. He has tales of foreign lands. He's fought battles on the high seas. To her way of thinking, he is a regular Romeo. Compared to Lieutenant Davy, Jonathan is nothing but a rich, spoiled bully of a boy.”

“I tell you this,” Ragland said, downing his glass of juice. “This little incident has caused a rift among the locals. Sir William, by all rights, should call out Jonathan for the remarks said to his daughter. If this were to happen I'm sure Mr Penn would make the boy apologize pleading drunkenness. However, with a third party involved and it being someone who's attracted the attention of Annabelle, I don't think Winston will intervene. I understand the seconds have met and the duel is scheduled.”

“Aye,” Anthony replied. “It is to be conducted at sunrise tomorrow morning. There is a hill between here and the Penn plantation. The parties will meet there.”

“Is there nothing you can do?” Ragland asked.

“No. If it were two of my officers I would intervene,” Anthony said. “However, if I put Lieutenant Davy under arrest and restricted him to the ship, I'd lose a good officer. He's already told Gabe…Captain Anthony he'd resign his commission if need be. Besides, if he didn't show up, he'd be branded a coward throughout the West Indies.”

Sighing, Lord Ragland stood up and walked to a window and peered out. “Well, Lieutenant Davy will get no thanks from Sir William if he does defend his daughter's honour. He needs Winston Penn's money.”

“Maybe he should talk to Lieutenant Davy,” Anthony responded. “With the prize money Lieutenant Davy has tucked away over the years and it drawing three percent annually, he could possibly buy his own plantation.”

Anthony knew this was not exactly the truth but it didn't hurt to plant a seed if it would help Lieutenant Davy's cause.

As Anthony made ready to leave, Lord Ragland spoke once more. “I wish your lieutenant luck, Gil. I hear Penn is a crack shot. He's won most of the island's shooting competitions.”

“Aye, but has he ever faced a man who was shooting back?” Anthony asked in a solemn voice.

***

The two parties met the following morning. A borrowed carriage stopped on the top of a small hill. Sugar cane stalks stood higher than the carriage and rustled in the dawn breeze as Gabe, Lieutenant Baugean, Davy's second, Isreal Livesey,
Peregrine's
surgeon, and Lieutenant Davy arrived.

Benjamin Briggs was Penn's second. He walked over to greet Lieutenant Baugean. In the half light Gabe could see Penn's party consisted of three men, four if you counted the man holding the bag standing by their carriage. He was obviously the Penn's physician. The elderly man, probably Penn's father, was whispering into the younger man's ear. The younger man replied in a somewhat heated manner then turned his back on the older gentleman.

“Let's be about this,” he shouted. But that was a false bravado. His voice cracked with an unmistakable tremor.

“Gentlemen!” the elderly man cried. “Can we not call this thing off?”

Lieutenant Davy bowed respectfully to the man and said, “He has but to apologize to the young lady, sir.”

“I'll see you in hell first,” Penn retorted.

Speaking quietly, barely above a whisper, Briggs said, “We'd best get on with it then.” He then opened a case of beautifully matched dueling pistols. “You'll inspect these if you please, sir.”