The Wilde Flower Saga: A Contrary Wind (Historical Adventure Series)

by Schulz, Marilyn M

  The droning sound turned into a rhythmic beat to the pounding of her heart and the ghostly echo of the old man’s death song that had gone silent only moments ago. Katie heard someone humming along to the morbid tune. It was a small voice, and she held her breath in horror when she realized that it was her own.

  The rough bark was biting against her cheek. Katie blinked at the pain, but she dared not move again. Her chest hurt, and she forced herself to breathe. It came shaky, but strong as she took slow, deep breaths in order not to move too much.

  Then somewhere not so far off, there came a ghastly insult: Katie could hear . . . laughter.

  * * * * *

  Sir Edward spent the night at the Government House and now sat at the breakfast table with Sir Hugh. Lady Millicent was nowhere to be seen, so they spoke freely of all things.

  "I have an appointment with Ambrose Standish this morning," said Sir Edward.

  "And so it begins."

  Sir Edward hoped he had been wrong, but once again, his gut instinct had led him into battle. If that’s what this is, he thought. This time, he felt a twinge of remorse and more than the common dread.

  "It seems too obvious," he said quietly.

  "That the American diplomat is collaborating with the French? It was King Louis who helped the American colonists. And Lafayette and his lot, of course, but that is another story, and one that does not concern us now."

  "True, but it was the taxes of the French people that funded their part in the war, and the American independence serves as an example now. Leave it to the French to turn on their own even with the lesson so plain before them."

  "They will turn on the Americans too if it serves their purpose," Sir Hugh said.

  "Their purpose. I am beginning to wonder if they realize their true intent anymore. Sometimes it seems like they only want more blood."

  "They would not be the first in human history to lose their sense of proportion."

  "I am not trying to solve the ills of mankind, sir, particularly those of the French. I was hoping to do my service to the Crown and retire to live out my aged years in comfort and peace."

  Sir Hugh laughed so hard, that in a moment, he had to wipe his eyes. "Just trying to picture you planting turnips and tulips, my boy. No, the image just will not come. You will die on a ship somewhere far away and foreign, and they will drop you in the drink like all the other old sailors."

  Sir Edward raised his teacup in toast. "Not a bad end, all things considered."

  They sat in silence for a moment, then the Vice-Admiral said, "You do not like the man."

  They both knew that trust did not come into it.

  "Do you?" Sir Edward said.

  "Never gave it much thought. Men like him are a necessary evil." He poured more tea and offered. Sir Edward pushed his cup closer. The Vice-Admiral was frowning as he poured. He held out the cup and said, "Millicent finds him charming in a provincial sort of way, but she has different standards."

  "Women usually do."

  Sir Hugh grunted. "Do not judge her too harshly. I noticed that she did not introduce him to any of her eligible young ladies. To a man who cared to notice such things, that is a most damning testimonial."

  "I would not presume to judge Lady Millicent, sir."

  "Can you say the same of our young rebel?"

  "Standish?"

  Sir Hugh leaned closer over the table. He was close enough that Sir Edward could not look away. The older man said, "I meant Kate Senlis."

  "Senlis, is that her name? Sounds French to me. We know for a fact she has recently been inside the country despite our blockade and the French declaration of war. She admitted as much herself."

  "She is not English, she is an American."

  "Same thing."

  Sir Hugh sat back and studied the captain for a moment. "I understand her mother was French. Standish says she went to visit her mother’s family in France. He said she got caught up in the commotion. He also said she probably gave out as good as she got, and from what little I’ve seen, I’m inclined to agree."

  Sir Edward wondered how Standish knew about any of that. And also wondered if Sir Hugh would change his mind if he’d seen her injuries. He cleared his throat instead of responding, not looking up from his own teacup as a servant came in. He heard dishes rattle, then the door quietly shut. It was silent again, maybe for too long.

  When he looked up, Sir Hugh was grinning. But he said, "So tell me about your appointment with Standish. What is his intent? Hunting, gambling, spying?"

  "I really have no idea. In fact, I am not at all sure how it came about."

  "He used her as bait and then gave you a good broadside. I saw it coming. I tried to warn you, you’ll remember."

  He remembered the tap on the shoulder, nothing more. He said, “The woman, you mean? Sir, I don’t— What do you mean?"

  Sir Hugh only said it again: "And so it begins."

  * * * * *

  At the Blue Dolphin, Sir Edward refused the ale, but ordered tea instead. It was nearly noon, later than he’d intended, but Standish looked like he had just come from his bed. He still had crust at the corner of his eye, and his breath smelled like something bitter.

  "Get me some ale,” Standish said, waving the innkeeper away. “And bread, bring me some bread. And ham."

  He quickly downed the tankard of ale. Then he wiped his eyes with his shirt cuff, and used his hands to brush back his hair. He took a huge tattered handkerchief from his sleeve and blew furiously. Finally, all seemed right with his world.

  Standish said, "America needs friends in Britain, sir, since our allies in France have been murdered or abandoned their posts with no courage."

  "Allies? The people who aided you in your rebellion, you mean."

  "The War of Independence, let’s not fight that battle once again. Quite frankly, I do not trust the French Republicans. They admire America, but they know little of honor. Or of longevity, when it comes down to it."

  Many things came to mind, but Sir Edward said, "And you do?"

  Standish took a huge bite of bread, and then called for more ale with his mouth full. He spoke that way too. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

  It took Sir Edward a moment to realize what he meant. "Meaning that since you are from British forefathers, you should be accorded respect as what—wayward sons? That might be convenient, if a bit naive on your part."

  Standish seemed to take offense, but only because he was supposed to. "We will earn our respect, sir. No, I meant that British and American interests are not all that different, we being like people and all."

  "You do not like the blockade."

  "No."

  "Obviously the Admiralty did not take your likes or dislikes into consideration. What do you want from me? I am a servant of the Crown and not interested in spying or sedition. If that is what you offer, I will turn you over as soon as look at you. You will find our prisons are every bit as hospitable as was the French Bastille."

  The Bastille was built during the Hundred Years’ War to defend the east end of Paris. The fortress and storehouse for weapons was also used as a prison of some infamy. French revolutionaries stormed the Bastille on July 14, 1789, capturing cannons and a formidable cache of ammunition. A symbol of the monarchy, by late in 1789, the structure had been mostly demolished, and many of the stones were used in construction elsewhere.

  Standish answered quietly, "I don't trust the French."

  Sir Edward wasn’t clear if the man was speaking now for his country, or personally. He said, "The same could be said by me. What is your point?"

  "We have need of common knowledge."

  "Why talk to me?"

  Standish didn't answer right away. The innkeeper brought more ale and more tea, but waited near the table.

  “Go away,” Standish snapped.

  Sir Edward tossed the man a coin. The innkeeper caught it, examined it, wrapped his fingers around, and ticked off a sloppy salute to Sir Edward before he
walked away

  Standish’s hands were now greasy as he handled the ham. He licked at them sloppily as he said, "I saw you walking with Sir Hugh Tobin at the quay yesterday. I have some knowledge of ships—you might be surprised. I find that new frigate quite a pretty piece of property."

  "What else do you know?"

  "A fool could see it has a special purpose, which is why it was there and not the usual launch."

  "And what might that be, according to you?"

  He finished chewing a big bite of meat and then tossed the rest aside. "Pursuit, power, dominance even. Whatever you go chasing, that ship will catch and win the fight. My mark on it."

  Sir Edward didn't think his mark was worth much. "I repeat, why talk to me?"

  Standish took a long draw of ale. Sir Edward watched his Adam's apple bounce as he drank and wondered how well Kate Senlis really knew him.

  Standish burped. "Because you can tell me who to trust and who not to turn my back on in the Admiralty." Then he blew his nose again, this time leaving the handkerchief on the table.

  Sir Edward stood. "Tell you who to trust in the Admiralty? Now you go too far, sir. Why would you trust me anyway? For that matter, why would I trust you?"

  "I trust you because she does."

  Sir Edward sat down again. Kate Senlis? He said carefully, "How do you know that?"

  "Because you are still alive."

  "And what do you mean by that?"

  Standish said, "I can see you still have much to learn about our Kate."

  "Suppose you tell me now, save me the time and trouble?" Of course, he already knew it. If she were a spy, then killing would not be much of a reach. There were stories about French women with their knitting, watching hours of the guillotine’s nasty work.

  Standish studied the bottom of his empty ale tankard. Sir Edward signaled for a refill. After another long gulp, Standish said, "My own family lived on the frontier for a time. My father ran a trading post near the Senlis compound. He was a representative of the Crown, so to speak. You will be surprised to hear that I had Tory leanings during the war."

  Not that surprised, Sir Edward thought, Standish would go with the highest bidder. But he said, "The Senlis compound?"

  "They had their house, of course, a clapboard-covered cabin, but rather large and fancy for the time and place. Quite impressive, but then they always had money. Compared to others, that is. The family was some of the first, you see, and got their share from the beginning.

  “There was also a chapel, an infirmary where Katherine Senlis tended the ills of the settlers, the traders coming through and even the natives. They also had a guesthouse of sorts, but some sort of relation or another always occupied it.

  “There were stables and some out-buildings too for game storage and crops, and traveling supplies for those going onward into the wilderness or those that had come that far with too much hope and too little sense. They would leave things behind and head back to the cities. It was quite impressive and flourishing, it might even have become a town someday. I think she meant it to be that way."

  "Who meant it to be that way?" Sir Edward said.

  "Katherine," Standish said lowly.

  "You mean Kate?"

  Standish shook his head absently, as if he wasn't in the room now, but was back at the Senlis compound again. “She was a beautiful woman, Katherine Senlis. Kate is something, I'll give you that, but her mother was . . . I often think that if there really was a Helen of Troy, she must have looked like Katherine St. John Senlis."

  Sir Edward studied the man, but he didn't say anything. In a moment, Standish shook himself loose. "I knew Kate from birth until she was six. I was fifteen or sixteen when it happened. Then they took her away and I didn't see her again until after the war. Her father brought her home to Boston to be with him."

  "Her father was a merchant, a trader, it was said?"

  "He traded, true, but he was more like an adventurer, an explorer. That faded when Katherine died and the boys disappeared. In fact, the whole man faded away after that. He went looking for them, of course, but that didn’t last for long.”

  Sir Edward cleared his throat, and hoped he sounded casual as he said, “The boys?”

  Standish was thinking and didn’t answer. Sir Edward didn’t push.

  Finally, Standish said, “Katie couldn’t speak after the raid, and he couldn’t take her with him on the search into the wilderness. That’s what he said, but I think it became too painful, and he soon lost all hope. The only reason he didn’t do away with himself too was probably because he had little Katie."

  “Why the wilderness?” Sir Edward said.

  “The natives took her brothers, four of them. They went after, the men of her family, which is quite a few—fourteen in the Senlis clan. But it was too late by then. No sign, no trail, no barter.”

  Barter? Like ransom perhaps. Sir Edward wanted to ask for more details, but decorum held him back. Tragedy could be more gossip than fact. Besides, Standish was becoming very informative on his own, so he sipped his lukewarm tea and listened.

  Standish continued, "Nearly twenty years after the attack, her father came back to his family in Boston to die, but he took his time doing it. She never left there that whole time, but you could tell that every minute was killing her too."

  "That is a tragic story, but not unusual in uncivilized places. She seems well enough now."

  "Katie? Who knows? You never quite know what she's thinking. That always bothered me. But lucky for mankind that she's more interested in the mundane than the magnificent."

  "She cares more for home and hearth than for sport and intrigue, you mean," Sir Edward said, skeptically.

  "Heavens, when you put it like that, she really does sound like an old mop instead of a trollop. Either way, it’s not complimentary, and I wonder what gave you either impression."

  Sir Edward didn't think anyone would use either of those terms in relation to Kate Senlis, but then Standish knew her better than he did. He had to remind himself of the fact yet again. He pulled himself back to the issue at hand because Standish was still talking.

  " . . . well to do, and one of the oldest in the colonies, though the European blockade will hit them hard."

  "It sounds like they have survived worse."

  "True, but that's because she still has hope. To this day, I think Kate still believes her brothers might be alive. Once Katie gets a hold on something, she seldom lets go. The Kiowa call her Little Badger, and I'm not sure she finds it to be an insult."

  “She wears that bracelet from the Abenaki woman."

  "The woman of many medicines. She told you about it?"

  "Yes, she mentioned it at dinner last night."

  Standish sat back with his hand in his waistband. "You have never been to America."

  "In fact, I have, but no farther than a harbor in Carolina and along the coast there during the war. I have no tales to tell."

  "If they did come back, she would not know them. The boys, I mean. They were taken over twenty years ago now, and they would have had to become savages to live in that world. Chances are that if they survived the first week, they were sold into some sort of slavery to the trappers up in the Canadian wilderness."

  "I find that hard to believe, sir."

  "Nevertheless, America is a continent already settled with people, and they don't always follow the rules of civilization that we think they ought. We forget that in our expansion, we are stepping on land that is well traveled by somebody else. How do the Redskins say it? Other campfires have been here before."

  "Are you referring to the natives, or to the other Europeans? The French, or even the Spanish, perhaps?"

  Standish didn't seem to hear. He murmured, "Taming the wilderness is hard enough, but to have an arrow at your back or a tomahawk to your neck as a constant threat . . . Well, it takes a special breed."

  Sir Edward didn’t know enough to disagree. "What are you really after, Mr. Standish?"

 
; Standish pushed his tankard aside and looked him straight in the eye. "I would see the United States draw closer to the British."

  "The best way to keep track of your enemies is it to make them your friends."

  He looked away. "Naval power, Sir Edward, and that's all I need to say."

  True. Sir Edward sniffed, for it was hard not to be arrogant when you held naval dominance in the world. The French had excellent ships, which was unexpected from the new government. But they lacked both discipline and experience. In many cases, superior French ships lost to the superior naval attitude of the British. Often, the French crew revolted against their leaders and lost the sea battle along the way.

  The Republican’s new dogma did not work at sea, for a crew could never function properly as a democracy, in Edward Lindsay’s opinion. He also knew from Dr. Llewellyn’s personal experience that pirate crews often functioned that way—but not in the heat of battle, never that. They saved their internal disputes when they had no enemy firing at their boards.

  Ambrose continued, "If Spain and France become allies, we might lose the good will of the French. You may have noticed that much of the North American continent is still under French and Spanish control."

  "Not to mention our own claims in the north and western reaches of the continent still. Just because we walked away from the rebellion does not mean we gave up all claims."

  Ambrose waved his hand as if to disregard the argument. "I agree with Katie. She says that the father seldom fights the son with his heart truly in it. There will not be much fighting left between the Americans and the English, not big wars anyway. But let us not stray from the topic."

  "Which is?" Sir Edward said.

  "The alliance between France and Spain."

  "Which you claim would be as detrimental to the Americans as it is to the British."

  Standish winked. "Now we are singing the same tune."

  "You are wrong there, sir, for I do my duty and none other. This is a game for diplomats and politicians, of which I am neither. Count on me in a battle, but initiative on a grander scale I leave to better men. Good day, sir, I trust we will never speak of this again."