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

by Schulz, Marilyn M

  "And what are you, Kate?” he said very low.

  She was looking at him again with her hungry tiger-eyes. She whispered, "I am your shelter from all other storms."

  He tried to swallow, but found that his mouth was quite dry. He whispered back, "But where do you fit into these few, but ever demanding priorities?"

  She stepped toward him until she was inches away. He had never noticed how stormy her eyes could be, just like a turbulent sea. She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart.

  "I fit in here," she said.

  Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. After, she didn't smile, and she didn't turn away. Her head was tilted just a bit to the side, and her eyebrow went up, just the one.

  "Well?" she said. “Give me an answer or give me another bottle of Scotch.”

  He studied her a while. She took a step back, then shifted a bit in nervousness. She opened her mouth to ask him again, but he said quickly, "We shall marry here. It seems that you have already downed all my Scotch.”

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER 41 - Family

  Convincing Edward Lindsay was the easy part, Kate realized. Now she had to win the good wishes of her uncle and the O’Malleys. She decided that a discussion between the two captains would be all that was needed, but she would have to address Rosalee O'Malley on her own.

  So Sir Edward, like any suitor, had to meet with Lewis Senlis. It did not sit easy with either man, she knew. Her uncle had watched her with intense interest as Kate explained the plan. Then she left to tell the O’Malleys.

  Now Sir Edward stood in the captain’s quarters on the Narragansett, but he didn’t really feel so awkward as he had planned. Nor was Lewis Senlis surprised as Sir Edward explained on his own. He hadn’t meant to say so much, but he felt some comfort in the older man’s presence. It took him a while to finish, and then they sat in silence a few minutes more.

  “I feel you have some reservations,” Lewis Senlis finally said.

  Sir Edward chose his words carefully. “She has some habits that concern me.”

  “The potions and poultices?” Senlis said.

  “No.”

  “Her humming and staring out to sea?”

  “No.” Sir Edward felt himself flush, and he regretted bringing it up.

  But Senlis continued, “Her infernal collecting of strays and those mangy dockside cats she brings on board. To catch rats, she says, but my—“

  ”I did not know about that part, but no.”

  “Then what?” Senlis said.

  Sir Edward now found he couldn’t say it.

  Senlis was not patient. “Out with it, man, so I may decide whether to laugh or call you out to a duel.”

  Sir Edward forced his teeth to stop grinding. Best to be open or it was no good at all. Best to start the right way or give up the fight, he figured, at least in this case.

  “She seems very . . . loose.”

  “Loose?” Senlis said, one eyebrow up.

  “About her dress, I mean, her petticoat. She does not . . . “

  ”Go on.”

  The last was drawn out in challenge, and Sir Edward didn’t like the look on the older man’s face. He cleared his throat. “She has no care for her petticoat, for her privacy, I mean—her modesty.”

  Then Sir Edward blushed. He could feel it in his neck and his ears and his face. And that made him blush all the more.

  When Lewis Senlis finally started laughing, he laughed for a very long time. When it seemed he would stop, he would sip at his liquor and think of some other thing, then start laughing all over again.

  Finally, he sobered. “Katie’s not loose, she just feels at home. She grew up with her relations, mostly us men. And the men on the ships have been friends of her father and her uncles like me. When she goes about her business, she does not remember that she’s not a child anymore, and that she’s not among men who think of her that way.”

  Sir Edward scratched his ear. “Perhaps it is understandable when you put it that way, but it is still awkward.”

  Lewis poured himself another sherry as they continued the chat.

  "How much do you know about Kate?" Senlis said.

  "I know she has lived on a ship all her life."

  "Since she was six years old.” Senlis thought to offer him more, but Sir Edward refused, He still had most of his left.

  Sir Edward said, "That would be on the Wilde?"

  Senlis took a sip and said, "Aye, mostly. A fine little cutter, the Wilde. Fast, and cuts a turn like a rapier. Katie likes to know she can outrun the best. She has a nose for danger, and she knows when to run the other way."

  "Not from my experiences with her. I have continually aided her in dire straits, everything from pulling her from a tree to rescuing her from a slave ship."

  Lewis Senlis didn't seem surprised or impressed.

  "Still, she knows what she's about, that's our Kate,” he said. “I mean, 'our', referring to our family. You might become part of that family, but first I must be satisfied that it is the best thing for Katie."

  "And do you think it would matter to her,” Sir Edward said. “Your good opinion of me, I mean?"

  Lewis thought for a moment, then smiled. "Let us say it will make me feel easier. She knows her own mind. She was the captain of the Wilde, you know."

  "Captain? Of a ship? A woman? You are joking, of course." He knew it was true that she claimed control on the red corsair, but there was little other choice in the matter. She could have declared herself Empress of Russia, he thought, and the woman, Fiya, would have backed up the claim.

  Senlis said, "Oh, Mr. O'Malley ordered the men about, but it was Kate making the decisions. She can navigate better than any man I have known, including me."

  "So maybe she was not adrift on the corvette," Sir Edward murmured, staring into the rich color of the liquor.

  "What?"

  "She said she was adrift, but if she knows how to navigate, perhaps the whole thing was no accident."

  "Meaning?"

  "That she ended up where she wanted to be," Sir Edward said.

  "For what purpose? And how would she know the next ship would be you? No, Katie does not lie, she doesn't know how. Whatever she told you, you may take it as gospel."

  "I am not convinced of that trait. She can be quite aggravating at times."

  "Oh, no disagreement with you there. She doesn't always answer you directly and sometimes not at all. She’d make a wonderful politician."

  "God forbid,” Sir Edward said.

  Lewis studied him, and Sir Edward did not like the scrutiny. He sipped his drink, wishing he hadn't brought it up—any of it. Still, there it was, and he didn't lie either. What disturbed him more than the silence was that he saw what Lewis Senlis was thinking in the man’s eyes. The same as Kate had shown in hers. A family trait then, he decided.

  "Do you love her?" Lewis finally said.

  Sir Edward wasn't sure he heard right. "Pardon?" was all that he could manage.

  “It’s a simple enough question,” Lewis Senlis said. "Do you love her?"

  For the first time in his life, Edward Lindsay's courage failed him. The question left him drained and helpless like no battle and no loss ever had before. He had no weapons, no defenses; there was only surrender.

  "Yes."

  "Katie has a heart that’s too big for her own good. All that I have, that any of us has, that is due to her own generosity."

  "How so?"

  "Samuel, my father, was a man of vision, but had no strength of will. He was more of an adventurer, only trading as an excuse to let him wander around the globe. He lacked the discipline to make much more than a start on the business. Certainly it was more than most could give their children, a battered old ship and no debts when he died."

  "Some might call you fortunate."

  "With seven sons and two daughters to share, some others might disagree with you. Mattie was the oldest son and when our father died, my brother was only seventeen. He
took his responsibilities most seriously."

  "An admirable quality."

  "It was Mattie who built the business into what it is now," Senlis said.

  "I do not wish to be indelicate, but what exactly is it now?"

  Senlis frowned into his drink. "She has told you nothing?"

  "She mentioned ships and ports. Nothing more,” Sir Edward said. “Ambrose Standish told me things, but I suspect anything that man has to say."

  “Standish? Yes, a wise perception on your part.”

  Senlis stopped talking, thought for a moment, then shuddered. He stood, paced for a while, finally pointing to the map as he halted abruptly. They both went over to the large parchment rendition of the world.

  “We have seventeen ships all over the world. We have factories, plantations, mines. Katie was in Europe seeing to some other ventures."

  "Gun powder and bullets not paying off anymore?"

  Senlis seemed to miss the sarcasm. "Quite handsomely,” he said. “The plantations and mines were Katie's idea. It was her idea to trade in wine as well."

  He held up the glass of Madeira and studied it in the light.

  "So you must do very well."

  "When there is a war on, we do extremely well, but Katie doesn't like it."

  "Women seldom do."

  "It was Mattie’s idea to buy the factories, to manufacture the goods that we transport. But it was Katie who started negotiations for liquor and gems and such things. Now we trade silks and spices from the East as well, and cart rich folks to and fro for their own purpose at a premium cost."

  "She started negotiations?"

  "The ships were all Mattie's doing, but he died almost ten years ago, leaving everything to Kate. She knew enough to know that men would not take orders from a seventeen-year-old girl who sings when she’s frightened and plays her piccolo when she's lonely."

  "Ten years ago? From the way she spoke, I thought the loss was most recent."

  "Mattie and Katie were inseparable after the tragedy, and I could never blame her for her sorrow. The fact is that I still miss him too. Mattie was my father after old Samuel died, and he was my father longer than the old man."

  "An heiress would be attractive bait for the scum of the earth,” Sir Edward said. “How did you manage?" He remembered the story of the burned cakes and the unpleasant suitor of her friend there in Boston, but he took that as fable or maybe a joke.

  "She had the solicitors turn a good portion into a family trust,” Senlis said, “shared equally between the six remaining brothers, a widowed sister, and a share split between the children of another sister who has died. But the lion's share and the final say, that has always belonged to Kate."

  Sir Edward sat down. "You mentioned the tragedy, and I have heard Ambrose Standish speak of the raid. What is that all about?"

  Lewis sat down as well. He wiped his face with his hands, and Sir Edward thought the gesture made him look old and tired.

  "We were at sea, Mattie and me. I was his cabin boy, only twelve myself at the time. His own sons were much younger, but he was looking forward to the day he would take them out. It was the first time he left Katherine behind."

  "He took her even then?"

  "I mean her mother, also named Katherine. Katherine Weaver St. John. She was Welsh, French, English, and the sweetest, most charming woman . . ."

  Sir Edward thought that maybe Lewis Senlis had loved the woman as well as his brother.

  "She came down from royalty they say. The early kings of Wales and Britain, and even held lands in France before there was a country called France."

  "Charlemagne," Sir Edward mumbled.

  "Just so. If blood tells, it told in her. She was a noble woman in carriage and in deeds. Mattie did not like to leave her. But with four boys well under twelve years old and little Katie, and another baby on the way, Katherine insisted that Mattie take the run to the West Indies alone."

  "So Katherine St. John sailed with her husband?"

  Lewis nodded. "It was her idea to be out on the frontier then. She carried some religion to the savage nations, but mostly she administered them."

  "Administered? What do you mean?"

  "Bad word, I suppose, but she was a strong woman. Let me think. Doctored? Nursed? Tonics and ointments, potions and poultices—she was a healer, they say, with a gentle touch and a natural gift. Something of a witch some others might have called her. I often thought that is why she carried the Bible around so much, to avoid confrontation with the more judgmental factions of our feeble pioneer society. There are still enough Puritan-types to make such things unpleasant for those accused."

  "I have read about your Salem witch trials, but that was a long time ago," Sir Edward said.

  "So you know the type; women mostly, but some men. They criticized Katherine for serving the natives, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she painted up her face and danced along with the Indians. Probably told all the other to go to Hades, then she’d be there to treat their burns if they did.”

  Sir Edward laughed. "I think I would have liked Katherine Senlis. How did she die? In childbirth?"

  "A war party came upon their homestead. They took the boys and would have left Katherine and Katie, but for the French with them, it’s said."

  "I thought savages— well, the stories of what they did to women . . .“

  "Not usually true. Back then, well over twenty years ago now, the Indians didn't rape and kill as you might have heard. As warriors, they thought women were beneath their dignity. And white women especially. No, if there was no need for more slaves, or their trade, they didn't bother with the women. They were not worth the powder or the effort."

  "So what happened?"

  "Katherine was heavy with child. She was farther along than we all thought her to be, it would seem. I didn't learn this until later, and second or third hand, you understand. My sense is that the French raped her and left her to bleed to death. Katie was hiding under the side table and saw it all. She crawled out and put her mother's head in her lap, lying there still on the floor. Katie watched her mother die. We found them like that three days later."

  "Terrible, I never . . ."

  "We searched for the boys for months, but we never found them. Mattie left Katie with our mother in Boston during that time, but when we saw her again, she was like a little ghost. She didn't speak, and barely ate, and she had nightmares. She screamed and cried and spoke what we thought were her mother's last pleas to her murderers, but otherwise, not a word. Mattie couldn't bear to be parted from her after that."

  "I know about the nightmares, she has them still."

  "I am not going to ask how you know that."

  Sir Edward downed the rest of his drink. "Go on."

  "Mattie took her on the ships with him. She would sit in the rigging or far up fore in the bow, watching, singing. She sings when she is frightened, or thinking, or when she thinks no one is about. Then there’s that damned piccolo. I curse the day that Mr. Whayles gave her that thing, for she is rarely without it and only knows a few tunes.”

  He paused, smiling slightly. Then he sighed. “I think inside, she is incredibly lonely. Those hours she spent there with her dead mother still weigh heavy on her heart."

  "She still stands up on the bow as far as she can go. Feeding the birds, watching for dolphins she says. Sometimes for hours."

  "Yes, she was like a sponge, always listening to the people and the happenings around her. She was a bright child, taking it all in and spewing it all back now and then. She had a generous heart and the crew loved her for it. But that was later. For three years after the tragedy, she said nothing at all."

  Sir Edward grunted. "She speaks well enough now."

  "Funny thing, that. We were in a fog bank thick as pea soup and had been in it for days. I hate that kind of weather, make me feel like I’m sleeping and I can’t wake up. Anyway, there were other ships about as we were near the harbor going into some islands off Madagascar. It was a common-enoug
h port of call. Well, you could hear some of those ships close by, the sailors shouting, orders barked out, that sort of thing. We came close on a Frenchman, but her crew had been drinking. They were singing, laughing. All of a sudden, little Katie starts screaming. And then in French, she started yelling about her mother."

  Sir Edward said, "Mama must run, they come with the French."

  Senlis shot back, "How did you know that?"

  "Her nightmares, and it was all proper, I assure you,” Sir Edward said, but he couldn’t quite look at the man when he said it, for he found himself a bit contrite.

  "That's all I have to say,” Senlis added. “It was a terrible business, just terrible."

  "Did you ever find the brothers?"

  "No, I fear they are dead. She believes they’re still alive, but Katie is stubborn that way. She doesn't give up on the ones that she loves."

  Sir Edward said, "Some might say that is a commendable trait."

  "Aye, and one that may cause a person great pain."

  They sat for a long moment in silence.

  "You did not know any of this, did you? About her family, or fortune, her life up until now?"

  "I knew more than I thought. One imagines things, one hears gossip. As I said, some information I got from Ambrose Standish, and I already knew him to be a liar."

  "And against your better judgment and perhaps even your wishes as an officer, here you are. It must be hard for you. Not part of your regular duty, and probably nothing that ever crossed your mind."

  "Yes." Sir Edward studied his hands, for this was getting too personal.

  Lewis poured more Madeira. "Then you love her enough, I shall marry you to our Kate."

  They drank the toast and that seemed to end the conversation. And the inspection, Sir Edward thought. He said, "Tell me more about Ambrose Standish."

  "I don’t know the man, he was a bit older than her brothers. I suppose he was closer to my own age. Kate said that he sold them. Those women, I mean. I’d like to shoot the man on sight."

  “You will have to wait in line, we have needs of the man ourselves.” Then Sir Edward did the calculations, and realized that this man was near his own age. He looked older, but that could be from the sun and the wind, for it aged some men. Tragedy did too.