Quintspinner

by Dianne Greenlay

  “I thank you, Dr. Willoughby, for your kind compliments.” The Captain was now on his feet, with his glass raised. “However, I would expect nothing less from our petty officer, Mr. Mertrand here, when we are to have guests aboard so esteemed, as to grace us with their presence at the insistence of His Royal Highness, King George. It is because of these circumstances that we are to experience meals on this voyage that are fit for a King!” Laughter erupted around the table as glasses were raised in a chorus of “To the King!”

  Tess knew of her father’s royal appointment as physician in a West Indies colony but she wondered if the handsome gentleman were also here on royal appointment. Perhaps he too, would be setting up a medical practice in Port Royal. She wondered how large the settlement was. Surely it would require the services of at least two physicians. She stole a sidelong glance at him again, and felt her face go hot as she realized that he had been openly staring at her, his eyes locked intensely upon her. She looked away and stared at Cassie who stood by her other side.

  In preparation for the meal, both girls had worn their best dress. Although Dr. Willoughby had insisted, as always, that Tess’s dress have a high collar, and that she wear her hair in a side plait pulled to the left side of her neck, Cassie had been allowed to pull her own thick black waves back and up into a beautiful French roll. The neckline of Cassie’s dress plunged deeply enough to show the top of her bronzed cleavage peeking out from its laced edge. Tess felt dowdy and plain in comparison and her nose shone red tonight from having had to wipe it so often as her cold symptoms had set in, yet here was this gentleman staring and smiling at her.

  Not Cassie. Her. She felt a small pleasant shiver of satisfaction run down her back.

  Dr. Willoughby stayed standing and thanked the Captain once again for the evening. “I would like to thank you on behalf of myself and my two daughters who you see here with me tonight. May I present Tess,” he nodded, and with just ever so slight of a hesitation, he continued, “And Cassie.” Eyebrows rose in surprise and then furrowed in confusion at the two girls’ differing appearances, but faces quickly and politely masked over. Extra-marital dalliances were common among the wealthy although not many had the power and such confidence to be so open about it. “And also on behalf of my lovely wife, Mrs. Willoughby, who sends her deepest regrets, for she has taken ill, and myself, I thank you once more and bid you good evening.”

  Mrs. Hanley sat on an overturned bucket outside the door to the Willoughby’s cabin. She rose to her feet with a great deal of effort from so low a perch and greeted the girls upon their return from supper. Dr. Willoughby and the dark-eyed gentleman had escorted them back to the cabin, with the intention of carrying on to the open railing to enjoy a cigar in the evening air.

  “Good even’ Doctor,” Mrs. Hanley nodded, and then exclaimed, “Mr. Graham! How very good to be meetin’ ya’ again,” and she curtseyed slightly.

  “And you as well, Mrs. Hanley,” the gentleman replied and tipped his hat towards her.

  Mr. Graham! Even my grandmother knows him. I was right! He must have been to our house. That’s where he seems so familiar from. Tess resolved to ask her grandmother about the man as soon as she could.

  “You have been blessed with two very beautiful daughters, Sir,” Mr. Graham stated and turned his disarming smile upon Tess and Cassie. “Two daughters, a wife, and a lovely housekeeper.” He smiled at Mrs. Hanley, causing her to blush furiously in response to such an unexpected compliment. Returning his gaze to the doctor’s face, he continued. “It must be a great burden on you to be solely responsible for the safekeeping of so many feminine virtues.”

  “A burden only recently, Sir, I can assure you,” Dr. Willoughby chuckled, but his steely gray eyes sent a clear message to Tess. He considered the safe keeping of hers to be the problem. “Shall we continue our business discussion on the upper deck perhaps?” he suggested. “Mrs. Hanley, retrieve two cigars from my humidor, if you please.”

  Up on the quarterdeck Edward Graham stood next to Doctor Willoughby. He inhaled the last of his cigar which had by now burned down to a stub. “Charles,” he began, his eyes scanning the dark horizon behind the ship where the seam between the sky and water was nearly invisible in the darkness. “I hope you know how valued your medical services have been and will continue to be to us, and how highly regarded you have become in certain circles because of your skills and your notable intelligence. I realize that we have had a relatively short acquaintance, you and I, going back only the past year, and your daughter I have only just met this evening.” He stopped to glance at the doctor before continuing on.

  “However, when we arrive in Port Royal I shall be in need of a wife to provide companionship and to run my substantial household. You will have your hands more than full with a wife of your own, another daughter, a servant and your son to look after ….” He paused and chose his next words carefully. “Therefore, I would be deeply honored if you would consider and grant my request for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Dr. Willoughby stood silently for a few moments, and Edward’s heart beat wildly in his chest. He was afraid that he had overstepped the line of propriety. Damn it! Too fast! Too soon! You should have waited, he admonished himself.

  The doctor turned and fixed Edward in his stare. “I am aware of the enormous value your influence has given my career. I am deeply grateful for this appointment, not only for the opportunities it will provide for me, but I am also hopeful that a change of residence as well as the increase in sunshine and warmth there will provide my wife’s melancholy with a healing influence that all medicines so far have failed to achieve.” He turned back towards the railing and looked out across the water.

  “As for my daughter’s hand in marriage, consider it granted. I am certain that you are a man of great means and influence and will be able to provide more than adequately for any woman of your choosing. You shall be married with my blessing and consent as soon as you are settled in the West Indies. Port Royal does have the appropriate clergy, I believe.” He turned his head to look once more at the man standing beside him. “Only one question remains in my mind.”

  Edward Graham turned to look back at the doctor. “And that is …?”

  “Which of my daughters is it that you desire to wed? I shall have to break the joyous news to her in the morning.”

  “Who is he?” Tess tried to sound nonchalant. Mrs. Hanley attempted to keep the smile from showing on her face, but the dimples in her rosy cheeks gave her away.

  “Who is who?” The housekeeper enjoyed such verbal games. She handed a steaming cup to Tess. “Here. Drink this. It’ll put an end to the scratch in yer throat an’ the drip in yer nose.”

  “Mr. Graham, of course!” Tess recognized that she was being baited, her interest in the man pulled out into the open.

  “Ah. Mr. Graham. Let me think ….” Mrs. Hanley put her index finger up to her pursed lips and knitting her brows together, looked as though she were deep in thought.

  “You know him! You addressed him by name as soon as you saw him! Don’t pretend that you can’t remember him! Who is he? Why does he look familiar? What would he be doing on the ship with us? Is he a physician too? Is he married?” Although exasperated with Mrs. Hanley’s withholding of his identity, Tess giggled with anticipation of the impending information.

  “Caught yer eye now, did he?” Mrs. Hanley inquired coyly.

  “He just looks familiar, that’s all, and it’s driving me crazy trying to figure out where I might have seen him,” Tess replied casually.

  A deeper furrow creased Mrs. Hanley’s brow. “Well I can’t rightly say where ya’ might have seen the gentleman, as yerself an’ Cassie was both wherever ya’ said ya’ was, on that day in the market, an’ he turned up at the house with his footman, askin’ fer the doctor’s services. He an’ Dr. Willoughby had both left just before ya’ arrived home, but I know that he was definitely gone before ya’ set foot back in my kitchen. Perhaps yer mistaken?” />
  Gone from the house? Then where? Something was niggling in the back of Tess’s mind, some important detail flirting just beyond her conscious reach. “Why did he need a physician?” She wondered if he had been hurt as he pursued her attacker.

  “Hmm, let me think ….” This time Mrs. Hanley was searching her memory for real. Her eyes brightened with the recall. “It was fer the doctor to see to Mr. Graham’s head wound.”

  “Head wound?”

  “Oh yes! A nasty one, it was. Right on the back of his noggin!”

  The back? But my attacker would have been in front of him ….

  “I heard Dr. Willoughby say that his skull bone had been broken. Smashed in when some common thief hit him from behind. Poor man had been attendin’ to some important business of some royal nature, when he was set upon.” She clucked her tongue in sympathy. “It’s a wonder he survived such an attack! Dr. Willoughby said he thought Mr. Graham had probably been whacked on the head with a rock.”

  Or a bag of last year’s beet roots! Tess felt a cold wash of panic envelop her. Of course! The educated speech mannerisms. She hadn’t seen his face in the Crone’s room, but the body build was the same. Not her rescuer. The Crone’s attacker! A flash of the old woman’s severed fingers swept into Tess’s vision. She blinked hard to clear the thought away. It was him! Tess felt dizzy with fear. She hastily said goodnight to a bewildered Mrs. Hanley and joined Cassie in their tiny room, where she shared the news of her discovery.

  “My God! Tess, we are imprisoned here on this ship with him! Remember what he said? He is one of the Prince of Wales’ courtiers! That’s the royal connection! He must have been appointed to work in some official capacity at Port Royal too!” Cassie’s logic was undeniable.

  “Do you think he recognized us?” Tess whispered fearfully.

  Cassie hesitated for a moment before answering. “No. I don’t think so. He has no reason to connect us with being there that day. He didn’t see either one of us. We attacked them from behind. I think we’re safe from him for now.”

  Grateful for Cassie’s presence and words of comforting logic, Tess wrapped her sister in her arms, the physical contact of the hug dissolving away the evening’s petty jealousies.

  Blood or not, Cassie was her sister.

  “She looks very bad, nay?” Mr. Lancaster shook his head while poking at the charcoaled ends of the burnt planking of the walls and flooring. “Yessir, very bad indeed,” he assured himself.

  William looked around. He felt as though he were on the inside of a weeping blackened cocoon. The beams above his head and the planks beneath his feet were burned to varying degrees. Water trickled and dripped down from several spots along the ship’s side, pools of it gathering with alarming speed in low spots in the flooring. He and the carpenter had had to tread carefully on the many charred planks to reach the burned area of the ship so as to avoid falling through to the deck below. William squatted down beside the carpenter and peered at the damaged section of wall. He reached out and tentatively felt around the burnt perimeter.

  “What’s this?” he spoke his thoughts out loud. “There’re two layers of wood here?”

  “Aye. You’ve a keen eye fer such, don’cha now?” Mr. Lancaster nodded his approval. He too, ran his hand over the charcoaled edges. “It looks bad, but see here? Like I told ya’, this beauty’s built with two layers.” He ran a hand through his graying hair and sighed.

  “Her outer wall’s not yet breached, but will she survive a poundin’ from the seas? That is the question, we ponder now. An’ what do we think, Mr. Taylor?” He again shook his head and gave a sad sigh. “We think not, Mr. Taylor, we think not.”

  William tried to focus on Mr. Lancaster’s assessment of their predicament but as the shock of the fire wore off, he felt compelled to find his father, needing to reassure himself of his father’s safety and condition after the fire. John Robert had been among the injured waiting in turn to have the ship’s surgeon tend to their burns, but William could not help feeling alarmed at not having seen him anywhere since the fire.

  “Can it be repaired?” he asked, forcing his attention back to the damage.

  “She could be saved, perhaps in a shipyard, but not here,” Mr. Lancaster replied. “Not out in the open water.” The carpenter was squatted down on his haunches and he had just reached forward to probe the wall again, when a loud crack followed by a deafening roar exploded around them and a massive object crashed down upon them through the weakened beams from the deck above.

  Instinctively, William collapsed into a protective ball, and threw himself back and away from the object. It was over in a second. Recovering, William sprang to Mr. Lancaster’s side, coughing and choking on the new cloud of soot and ash.

  “Mr. Lancaster! Sir! Are you alright?” William yelled, desperately feeling through the dark cloud for the carpenter somewhere in front of him. His hands butted up against a smooth cold surface. Metal. Oh Christ Almighty! It was a cannon, its massive iron weight having been too much for the charred and weakened beams.

  Scrambling now on his hands and knees, William frantically groped around and quickly felt a torso. “Mr. Lancaster!” he shouted. “For God’s sake, can you hear me? Are you alright?”

  “I’m here, Mr. Taylor,” a trembling voice rose weakly through the settling ash and dust, “but I’m a’ feared this monster’s taken me foot fer itself, it has ….”

  The cannon had smashed down through the weakened hull, wedging itself and Mr. Lancaster’s lower leg tightly into the hole it had made, the combination of the two filling the jagged hole completely, like a cork in a bottle. Nevertheless, sea water already slowly seeped in around its edges.

  “Pull me clear!” Mr. Lancaster commanded. William grabbed the man under his arms and pulled. Nothing moved.

  “Again! Harder!” It was a plea. William braced his feet against the cannon. “No!” Mr. Lancaster screamed. “Don’t budge the cannon. Fer God’s sake! Leave it pluggin’ the hole! Pull me as ya’ can!” William tried again without success.

  “Go! Give warning! Leave me here!” the carpenter gasped. “Step to it! We must abandon ship! Board the Mary Jane! There’s no time to lose!”

  “But I can’t just leave you here–”

  “Go!” the carpenter screamed. “Yer wastin’ precious time!”

  William scrambled up the companionway stairs shouting to all he saw.

  “The cannon! It broke through the hull! We’re sinking!”

  “What’s that?” Captain Crowell yelled down to William from the quarterdeck.

  “The cannon! The sea’s coming through the bottom! Mr. Lancaster says to abandon ship! The cannon’s got him pinned below! I need help to free him!”

  “Abandon ship!”

  The order spread through the crew within seconds. Men rushed to and from the decks below, trampling over each other in a scramble to save what weapons and possessions they could reach. A topman scampered up the rigging to raise a flag of distress on the main mast. Marines lined up along the edge of the ship and fired three shots off in unison, waited five seconds and fired three more.

  All prayed that the Mary Jane had noticed.

  “She’s turnin’!” The yell from the topman was clear. “Ship’s hard alee, starboard side!”

  William fought to get through the wall of bodies to gain entrance back down the companionway stairs but was pushed back by the larger men. “Help me!” he pleaded as the crew members rushed by. “Mr. Lancaster’s trapped!” A firm grip on his shoulder caught him off guard and William spun around, finding himself face to face with his father, Gerta tucked firmly to his chest. John Robert shoved the small black kid into William’s arms, and her scrawny legs kicked wildly. Her eyes were wide with fear. Before William could speak, his father pushed past him and disappeared down the companionway stairs. A thin rope encircled Gerta’s neck like a collar and William quickly lashed the end of it to a piece of railing before pushing through the crowd with renewed vigor, following hi
s father to the decks below.

  William moved as quickly as he could through the darkened decks, amazed at his father’s ability to move so quickly once again. The man was already far ahead of him. He’s really healing up. The thought filled him with a moment of joy. He arrived at the side of the cannon in time to see his father positioned beside Mr. Lancaster.

  “Pu-u-uhh!” his father yelled, his eyes pleading with William to understand.

  “What?” William panicked. “I don’t know what you want me to do!”

  “Pu-u-uhh!” his father commanded again, this time with enough gestures that William understood that his father wanted him to pull on Mr. Lancaster. His father braced his shoulder against the cannon and gripped the ensnared limb with his own hands. William grabbed the trapped man under his arms once again.

  “Na-a-ow!” John Robert heaved his weight against the cannon, rocking it momentarily out of its hole. Sea water exploded in and William pulled with all of his strength, falling onto his back as Mr. Lancaster’s limb suddenly broke free of the cannon’s massive weight before the weapon settled back into the hole.

  “Gho-o!” his father screamed. “Na-a-ow!”

  William struggled to his feet, his ankle sprain throbbing with renewed agony. With Mr. Lancaster’s arm over his shoulders, William dragged him towards the hatch and up the stairs.

  “Gho-o!” his father’s voice urged him from behind.

  The situation on the level above was total chaos. William looked over his shoulder but could not see his father. Mr. Lancaster was slowly slipping from his grasp and William felt his own legs begin to buckle under the man’s weight.