Cinders in the Waves

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Cinders in the Waves Page 1

by A R Pridgen




  Copyright © 2019 by A.R. Pridgen

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  FIRST EDITION

  www.mermaidinforeignwaters.com

  Table of Contents

  Chapter one The Greatest Treasure

  Chapter two Homecoming

  Chapter three Goodbye

  Chapter four A New Reality

  Chapter five Unwelcome Guests

  Chapter six Having a Ball

  Chapter one

  The Greatest Treasure

  Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful family. A mother, a father and their precious daughter. Sadly tragedy struck this beautiful family. The father and daughter were left with nothing but gilded memories of their darling wife and mother.

  Time stops for no one though, including this little family. The father was a merchant by trade and goods did not sell themselves. He was loath to leave his greatest treasure alone, so the father purposed in his heart that until he could think of a better idea; his daughter would come with him.

  So it came to past that this father and his daughter (Whose name was Eleanor) spent many years traveling together. Thus Eleanor came to gain an unusual education.

  Eleanor was quite beautiful, with long curling black hair and suntanned olive skin. She became an accomplished horse rider and her eye for art appraisals rivaled that of her father's. Her time spent on the road with

  her father exposed her to many languages which her young brain rapidly picked up. It would appear that Eleanor received a quality education on the road but there was one curious drawback.

  Eleanor spent her formative years almost exclusively in the company of sailors and caravan guards. A disadvantage her father did not realize until he heard his lovely fourteen year old child cursing out a vendor for trying to sell her counterfeit porcelain. By this point the father realized that it was perhaps too late to raise his child as a lady of refinement, of which course he was correct. ( oh well he thought with a mental shrug. It was too late to do anything about it now.)

  At this stage in her life Eleanor was as stunning as any court lady; but her tolerance for simpering fools was markedly low. Eleanor was perfectly happy in her own company (and that of her father’s crew) so unless her father required her trained eyes and ears for a business prospect, she was often found reading the latest novel acquired at their last port of call or balancing the accounts as they needed.

  When they were at sea though Eleanor could be found shadowing the firstmate, her favorite person on the ship beside her father. The towering

  young man did not seem to mind her being underfoot in the least and was the one who taught her every foul word she knew. Eleanor loved him for that.

  It was on one such voyage that we find Eleanor and her father now. They sat together in the captain's quarters, sharing a desk between them. Eleanor scratched numbers in the account ledger while her father scrutinized the rows of the new inventory list. They sat in companionable silence; ignoring the gentle rocking of the ship.

  Eleanor drew her finger down the list of numbers; doing one final check for calculating errors before leaning back with a sigh. Reaching into her pocket she drew out an ivory pipe. Using the fire from the lamp swinging above her head, Eleanor lit her pipe and took a deep drag. She sighed again, letting a plume of smoke fly from her nostrils dragon style.

  Her father glanced up and frowned.

  “Where on earth did you get that thing?” He asked.

  Eleanor beamed smugly at him. “Spade got it for me.” She replied, naming the first mate. “Said he was tired of sharing his own.”

  “He would do that.” Her father commented drily. “I’m beginning to regret letting that incorrigible man teach you such bad habits.”

  Eleanor laughed. “Oh come off it dad, you should be thankful that he’s not leading me into other bad habits, such as wenching and whoring.”

  Her father winced. “One must be grateful for the little things I suppose.” he consented grudgingly.

  Eleanor pulled on her pipe some more. “Spade gave me this pipe for another reason as well.” She arched her eyebrows at her father. “Can you guess why?”

  Her father rolled his eyes skyward. “Oh dear, what could the reason possibly be?” he drawled. He slapped a hand to his forehead. “It couldn’t possibly be my treasures birthday could it?”

  With a flourish of his hands, he produced a hatbox from behind his chair. Eleanor giggled and reached for it. As she tore apart the paper she side eyed her father. Casually she said “Next year to celebrate me reaching the age of consent, Spade said he’s going to give me my first kiss for my birthday.”

  Her father shuddered. “Your mother would turn in her grave.”

  “Probably.” Eleanor agreed cheerfully.

  She let out a shriek of glee. Inside the box was a captains hat; tastefully edged in silver thread. An eagle feather sat at a jaunty angle in the

  band. “It’s beautiful daddy!!” she squealed, immediately jamming it on top of her curls. She struck a pose. Pipe in hand, one leg on the desk.

  “How do I look?”

  Her father smiled proudly. “Stunning as usual. Just like your mother.”

  Eleanors grin grew wider. She stepped off the desk and into her father’s embrace. “Thank you daddy.” She whispered.

  He squeezed her tight. “Anything for you, my treasure.” He whispered back. He coughed. A great, wet, rattling cough. Immediately Eleanor backed away and reached for the water pitcher as her father pulled medicine form his jacket pocket. Wordlessly Eleanor handed him a cup. He nodded his thanks and tipped the medicine back, chasing it with water. They waited.

  Soon his breathing returned to normal.

  “It’s getting worse.”

  Father nodded in agreement to Eleanor’s statement. He rubbed his eyes. Eleanor tried to ignore the gray tinge to his swarthy skin.

  He motioned Eleanor closer. “Tell Spade to chart a new course.”

  He whispered. “I think it’s time to go home.”

  Eleanor nodded. She brushed her lips against his forehead and left without a word. She found Spade at the helm. Spinning the wheel without

  hesitation, Spade barked the new orders over his shoulder to the crew. He didn’t comment as Eleanor buried her face into his chest. He merely wrapped his arm around her shoulders comfortingly as hot tears fell to the deck.

  Chapter two

  Homecoming

  Two months later Spade, Eleanor and her father were bundled up in a coach trundling towards the estate. Fathers swarthy skin had a pallor that Eleanor could no longer ignore. The entire trip home she chewed on the stem of her unlit pipe. Spade, sitting next to her fiddled with the fraying edges of his belt. For his part, father merely dozed the whole way home. The merchants manor was a mere four hours away from the harbor. It was of middling size. Three stories with ivy creeping over it’s stone facade. A pleasant sight to come back to after a long time at sea. Eleanor gazed up at the house impassively. Though she had been born there; the road and her Fathers ship had always felt more like home to her. As such she had no particular attachment to the grand house.

  It was a different story for her father though. In this house; lonely in her oversized urn, was his wife. She was waiting for him and he knew he wasn’t going to keep her waiting much longer. Father heaved a sigh of relief as the coach clattered over the cobblestone driveway leading to his front door. Leaning heavily on Spade, with Eleanor gripping his hand tightly beside him; Father ascended the steps. Despite their long absence the house did not smell musty. This was due entirely to the staff lined up smartly on either
side of the doorway.

  “Welcome home master.”

  “My how you’ve grown Miss.”

  Father and daughter waved off the greetings. Marching ahead, Eleanor led the way to Fathers bedroom; Spade bringing up the rear as Father’s crutch. When Spade and father arrived Eleanor already had the bed turned down and was directing the head of the house staff to send for a doctor.

  Father smiled faintly. If nothing else his daughter was efficient.

  In a matter of hours father was reclining on plumped pillows, a fire was crackling merrily in the hearth, a tray of chicken soup and a crusty loaf of bread was sitting in his lap. The doctor was finishing his examination.

  Eleanor sat on a stool beside fathers bed, glaring at the doctor like a hawk.

  The doctor to his credit did not waver under Eleanors glare. Instead he fixed his attention on her father and shook his head.

  “I’m sorry sir. The only thing I can do for you now is prescribe something to manage the pain.”

  Eleanors breath hitched in her throat as her father nodded gravely in understanding. Spade rubbed her shoulders soothingly but the grief on his face made her feel worse. She had known this was coming but it still hurt to hear the truth from an experts mouth.

  “I suggest you get your affairs in order sir.” The doctor recommended quietly. “I don’t know how much time you have left.”

  Eleanor stifled a sob against her fist. She felt something wet hit the back of her neck. She leaned and looked up into Spades face. Tears fell freely down his cheeks.

  Her father chuckled grimly. “Come now children. Save your tears for when I’m actually dead. We have work to do in the meantime.” He clapped his hands. Eleanor jumped. Despite his pallor there was steel in his voice. Spade stood up straighter behind her. His captain had orders. Eleanor dashed the tears from her eyes and sat up straighter as well.

  Father opened his mouth to give orders and a voice cleared it’s throat. All of them turned in surprise towards the door. A maid stood framed there, fidgeting with the hem of her apron. Her face turned red at all of the attention on her. “There is a visitor here for you sir.” She announced hesitantly.

  Eleanor felt her jaw drop. She looked up at Spade incredulously.

  “Who in the hairy left armpit even knows we’re back?” Spade shrugged; just as confused as she was. The maid cleared her throat again. “She announced herself as Lady Prissa.”

  The doctor and her father groaned simultaneously. Eleanor turned to them.

  “This is my fault I’m afraid.” the doctor said apologetically. He took off his spectacles and cleaned them with a handkerchief from his pocket. “I ran into her on my way here. The woman is incessant. She wouldn’t leave me alone until I told her exactly where I was going.”

  Eleanor stared at him. “You mean to tell me.” She said slowly.

  “That this idiot is fully aware that there is a dying man in this house and she still thought it was a good idea to put in a social call?” Eleanor's voice had

  become increasing strident until she sounded like the bird of prey she so closely resembled. Spade dug a finger in his ear and shook his head.

  “It’s precisely because I’m a dying man that she's here.” Her father replied grimacing. “Lady Prissa fancies herself to be your mothers closest and dearest friend.”

  Eleanor glanced at her father. “Was she?” she prompted. Her father snorted. “Not a chance.”

  He settled heavily into his pillows. “The doctor is right though. No amount of deterrents is enough to stop this woman. I could have the most virulent plague known to humanity and she would still demand to have tea with me.” He waved his hand at the maid. “Send her in. We might as well get this over with.”

  The maid bobbed a curtsy and disappeared from view. Spade moved to help father into a better sitting position and Eleanor brought a proper chair closer to the bed. The doctor quietly ducked out through the servants hall in an effort to avoid Lady Prissa. One encounter with her was enough for the week. He was grateful that she and her daughters were such a healthy and robust breed of woman.

  In a few moments father and his company could hear the footsteps of Lady Prissa echoing down the hallway closely followed by her husky voice. “Surely for one so ill as the Count the curtains should be drawn.

  Sunlight is bad for the sickly.”

  Eleanor fought to keep her twitching eye under control. Spade was having less success over his laughter. She stomped on his foot. Eleanor's first impression of the stout woman with a wide hoop skirt and bustle was interrupted by the woman's unholy shrieking.

  “HOW DARE YOU EXPOSE YOURSELF IN SUCH A VULGAR

  WAY YOUNG MAN!”

  Lady Prissa flared her parasol and held it in front of her like a shield. Eleanor cut a bewildered look to Spade; the only one in the room who qualified as a young man. He looked down at himself then shrugged his naked shoulders, grinning wickedly. Eleanor matched his grin.

  “I don’t know-” she drawled, looking back at Lady Prissa “I think he’s doing us a public service. I quite enjoy the view on this side of the parasol.”

  Lady Prissa’s scandalized gasp did not quite cover fathers moan of dismay. Immediately Eleanor felt contrite. “Sorry.” She mouthed to her father as he dragged a hand over his face. He waved it away.

  “Lady Prissa would you please calm yourself. Eleanor my treasure, please don’t antagonize our guest any further; and Spade-” Father floundered for words. “Go find a curtain or something to cover yourself with.”

  Spade turned slowly in a circle before pausing in front of the window. With a wink at Eleanor he stood directly in front of the window and pulled the curtains closed around him. At the sudden lack of light Lady Prissa cautiously peeked around the edge of her parasol. She stared aghast at Spade’s head poking out of the curtains. His smirk was the smuggest Eleanor had ever seen it. For her part Eleanor fought to keep her sneer off her face as Lady Prissa sat primly on the edge of her chair.

  “Well I declare.” She said stiffly. “How frightfully rude of you to allow a young man to wander about naked like a heathen. You really should take better care for your guests.”

  “My apologies Lady.” Father answered acidly. “Had we but known that we would be entertaining guests this evening I would have prevailed

  upon the boy to find the one shirt he owns.” The sarcasm sailed straight over the Lady's head.

  “Please do so in the future.”She admonished. Cracking open a fan, Lady Prissa plied it slowly as she took in her surroundings. “My sensibilities simply cannot take such shocks.” Her gaze fell on Eleanor and she folded her fan with a snap. Pointing at Eleanor with it she cried “See here my dear Count! Your poor daughter has the complexion of shoe leather! How can you expect her to find a husband to take care of her when she is so abused?”

  Eleanor ground her teeth. She opened her mouth to tell this interfering hag exactly how she felt about such a husband when something pinged her on the back of her head. Eleanor turned towards Spade, rubbing the sore spot on her head. He lowered the blow gun from his lips (Where did he even stash that thing?!) and shook his head slightly.

  His smirk was gone now and his expression as stormy as Eleanor had ever seen it. She turned back to her father who had missed none of the exchange. He nodded slightly in agreement with Spade. Defeated Eleanor sat back with a scowl. Spade would pay dearly for that. She vowed silently.

  Meanwhile Lady Prissa continued her tirade; completely oblivious to the silent communication going on around her.

  “Really Count. I don’t know what you were thinking, spiriting her away on that tub of yours. If you had hired a governess like I told you before, she would be a proper Lady of refinement. Not some bilge rat like she is now.”

  Eleanor shot Spade a furious look. “Now?” she mouthed. Spade hesitated a hair too long before reluctantly shaking his head again. Her scowl deepened. Thankfully her father stepped into the breach.

  “My Eleanor is an exemplary
young woman.” He stated firmly. “Her education may have been a little unorthodox but I do not believe she has suffered unduly because of it. You would be hard pressed to find any Lady who could measure up to my daughter in terms of intelligence and beauty.”

  Eleanor sat up straighter and preened. Praise from her father was the highest she could receive. She leaned in and pecked her father on the cheek.

  “Thank you daddy.” She murmured. Her father smiled warmly at her.

  Lady Prissa watched this exchange of affection with a sly look. “I can see that the two of you are quite fond of each other.” She commented,

  “As any loving father and daughter should be. But pray tell-” Lady Prissa snapped her fan open again and waved it slowly, punctuating her next words

  “What will become of your daughter when you pass on?”

  Silence met her question. Eleanor glared daggers at her. Lady Prissa merely smiled blandly back and continued to wave her fan. Her eyes narrowed on the Count. She had come to the point of her visit and they all knew it.

  “My dear Count. As I am sure you are aware, I myself am a widow.

  I have two lovely daughters near in age to your own; both of which are the pinnacle of elegance and decorum.” She leaned forward, radiating sincerity and earnestness. Her final play. “Let us be married. Frankly speaking, I need financial security. In exchange for this I will watch over Eleanor’s well being when you pass on. I can guide her and teach her. Be the mother my dear friend never had the chance to be.”

  Father flinched at this. Satisfied that she had struck a nerve, lady Prissa rose gracefully to her feet. “I can see that you need time to think on it.” She said silkily. “I’ll take my leave now.” She swept out of the room like a vacuum, sucking up every sound and stare with her. Spade left his hiding place behind the curtains and came to stand beside Eleanor. She slugged him in the arm, but he took it stoically. His attention was on father.

 

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