by Lisa Grace
“It certainly is a perfect day for our duties.”
“Where is Mr. Welch?”
“He will be up in an hour,” Randall said with a straight face looking out to the coast and not at the captain.
“Up in an hour? Does he not understand a simple command?”
“Busy getting dressed. Takes an hour,” Randall added, while working hard to not look at the captain and keep a steady look upon his face.
“We will see about that!”
The captain hurried down the stairs with Randall following close behind, “Sir. I would not open the door!”
“Are you the captain now, giving out orders to me?”
“Mr. Welch!” The captain called out as he swung open the stateroom door.
Mary Welch who'd had her back to the door as Magdela buttoned up her gown, screamed, as she turned around to hide her half opened back.
Magdela rushed at the door screaming, “Out! Vamanos! Out!”
She closed the door in the startled captain's face.
He stood there for a second speechless. “That was a—woman.”
“Two, sir. Two women,” Randall corrected him.
“What is going on?”
“The unexpected. Mr. Welch is Mary Welch sir, and the other woman is her chaperone, Ms. Magdela.”
Captain Graham thought about what he'd seen. A smooth creamy white back, and a blue day dress. Her head turning in slow motion to see him. Her face—her face framed perfectly by her raven colored tresses, braided to form a band.
“Yes, unexpected.”
He turned to face Randall. “How long have you known he was a she?”
“You left orders not to be disturbed,” Randall snorted, “for any reason.”
Graham stared at his friend fully aware of the joke that had been masterfully played on him. “Yes, yes I did.”
“Touché, Mr. Randall, touché.”
Graham headed back up the stairs allowing his first officer, and friend, to savor his moment of victory alone as he could not allow him to gloat in front of the crew.
***
Randall waited outside Mary's stateroom door enjoying his joke on his friend. Almost a half an hour later Ms. Welch opened her door carrying a pad and a wooden box. “I will see the captain now.”
“Yes, yes. Ms. Welch.”
Magdela followed a few steps behind.
Captain Bennett Graham had retreated to his stateroom. This meeting was best to take place out of the sight of the crew.
Randall knocked announcing, “Ms. Mary Welch, Captain Graham.”
He stood and gave a slight bow as the lady entered the room.
“Ms. Welch, I must apologize for my earlier intrusion. I was led to believe you were a man.”
“So you burst in on men then?”
“Yes, uh—no, on soldiers. It’s understood when the captain summons one, they are to report immediately.”
“Well, today is my first day as a sailor in the King's Navy, and I have not had any training.” Mary smiled at her joke. She was not expecting him to be so young and handsome. His curly dark hair just touched his collar, grown out from the month at sea. She'd been expecting an old sea salt with at least two chins and jowls, and grey receding hair.
“Yes, well you may wait in your stateroom as I have the men turn the ship around. We should have you back in port within two hours.”
“You will not!” Mary said before she could think.
He looked at her, then took a step around his desk to face her.
“May I please be frank?” Mary said as she looked away from his face.
“You are being frank. You may continue,” he said with a flourish of his hand.
This time Mary tried a different tack and smiled, then batted her eyelashes, “I would like to have an adventure. I can draw and paint, and I am the best artist in Costa Rica. I do take my post seriously, and am sorry I was not on deck at daybreak, but I really had no way of knowing what was expected other than to report for duty, since that was all your letter asked. It is true, I am a woman, but I will only come out on deck to draw and paint, and I promise not to be a bother or a distraction. Please, do not turn the ship around. I beg you to please let me stay aboard and do my paintings for the King. I will still sign them M. Welch so he has no need to know I am a woman.”
He took a step closer. Now they only stood mere inches apart. He heard Magdela clear her throat, but he didn’t care if he was standing too close. In another hour or two she would be gone out of his life, and this may be the only memory he would have of Mary Welch.
From the cloth of her clothes and her bearing it was obvious she came from a wealthy land owning family. They would never approve of an officer who spent months at sea at the Navy’s whim, and without an estate, to court their daughter. Even while merely inches away, she was still out of his reach.
He smiled at her and she smiled back.
He thought, if Magdela were not there, he did not know if he could trust himself not to kiss her. He spoke softly, “I am sorry, but there are pirates about, and I will not endanger your life. We must take you back, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
The smile melted off of Mary’s face. “No! I have come so far to get here. You cannot turn the ship around!”
He raised his eyebrows at her impertinence. All these months at sea as the captain had not prepared him for someone who would stand up to him. After all, the punishment for a sailor would be fifty lashes across the back for contradicting the captain.
The smile left his face, “I can and I will.” He called out to Randall, “Show Ms. Welch to the deck and turn the ship around. We will deliver her back to the port forthwith.”
The look of hurt in Mary's eyes touched his heart, but he could not have her this close day after day for if he did—well, he was only a man.
As his men turned the ship around a dot appeared on the horizon followed by another. The lookout in the crow’s nest kept his eye on them as they grew larger. The ships raced toward them. A third ship appeared in view after the first two.
The sailor in the crow’s nest yelled out, “Pirates! Three ships! On fast approach!”
The crew sprang into action. Captain Graham called out, “Turn!” The skiffs the pirates were in were small, light, and fast. Not something they would take out to sea for long voyages, but just for short runs to board their prey. This was expected and he had a plan to deal with it.
Mary flipped open the lid of her trunk which had been moved on deck in preparation to be unloaded at the docks. She took out her pad and started to sketch the action on the deck. The pirates were still too far away for her to get any detail, but plenty was happening on the deck she could record. At least when they turned back around to take her to port, she would have one story to tell. And it might have to be enough to last her a lifetime. Mary looked up at the captain on the deck above her, and couldn't help but admire how handsome and magnificent he looked as he barked out commands which the men heeded. His calls to action came rapid fire and even though she could not tell which men were to follow what orders, the crew knew. He caught her eye and she smiled. Part of her knew maybe she should be scared, but the way he took control of the men and the ship made her feel safe as if this pirate attack was a simple immediate concern, and nothing nowhere near the level of an emergency.
She flipped her paper and started to sketch him instead. She captured his look of confident control. A thought flitted into her head of what it would be like to kiss him. Her lips parted, and she blushed. These were not the kind of thoughts to have as the pirates were approaching. It had taken so much time to turn the ship she could now make out the men on the skiffs. There seemed to be about twenty on each. She heard a shot ring out before she realized the pirate ship closest to them was firing on them.
“Return fire,” the captain commanded.
She heard shouts come from the deck below followed by a mighty whummpf and vibrations shook the deck as a cannonball sho
t out, missing the pirate skiff by mere feet. The pirates kept on coming. The pirates didn’t hesitate as they aimed their pistols at the ship.
Mary flipped the page and began to sketch their attack on the ship. A shot fell on the deck and rolled to her feet. Before she could react, Captain Graham grabbed the balustrade from the upper deck and jumped over it in one fluid motion. He landed near her, and swung her around in his arms, “Get below! If those scoundrels had been any closer, that shot would have hit its mark!” He shoved her through the doorway into the arms of one of the below deck sailors, “See her to her stateroom,” he shouted over his shoulder as he made his way back to his post.
She realized her pad was still on the deck where she had dropped it when the captain had swung her into his arms. “I must go back for my sketch book!”
The sailor clasped her firmly by the elbow, “No miss, there is a battle on.”
She entered her stateroom. Magdela had packed their bags. “Magdela, we are under attack!” Magdela crossed herself and began to pray.
Just then another volley of cannon fire sounded, one after the other, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom! Magdela screamed, which was followed by another series of boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!
Mary angled herself at the window vainly looking for a clear view of the pirates, but could not see a thing. As the ship rose on a wave she saw one of the skiffs in pursuit with its nose up in the air sinking below the waves.
The calls above slowed while sailors footsteps could be heard running on the deck above and up and down the stairs outside their door. Mary looked out her window once again and saw a small boat splash down from above, and six sailors climbed over the rail by way of a rope ladder into its bow. Four rowed toward the floundering pirates, pulling one after the other out of the water. Only five, Mary counted. Five out of the twenty or so pirates on the attacking skiff. Maybe the rest could not swim or met their end when one or more of the cannonballs had found their target.
The small skiff rowed back, and Mary could hear the sailors bump against the side of the ship climbing the rope ladder along with their captives. Lots of sounds from above told Mary all was not finished above decks. She wanted to go above to see the pirates up close. She grabbed the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. She jiggled it harder, the door knob still wouldn't move. She said out loud, “They locked us in! I cannot believe they locked us in!” She peered through the hole, but it was blocked. She went to the trunk which held her hair things and took out a hatpin.
Magdela said, “Senorita, I do not feel—” Magdela went into the little room that contained the chair over the chamber pot, and closed the door.
Mary stopped her endeavors at the door to see about Magdela. She knocked, “Magdela!”
“It's the seasick. Go! You cannot stop the sea from rolling,” Magdela said back through the door.
Mary went back to the door and thrust her hatpin in, knocking the key out on the other side. She jiggled the handle again, but the door still would not budge. She let out a small scream of frustration.
Yelling from below decks got louder. Mary surmised the pirates must have been taken to holding cells somewhere in the bowels of the ship.
She went back to sticking the hairpin in, feeling around trying hard to trip the lever to unlock the door. As she was trying, she heard a brief knock followed by the door swinging open which pushed her onto her backside. Captain Graham stuck his head in, “Hello? Ms. Welch?” His head slowly turned around and down, as a smile crept onto his face. “Can I help you with something?” Mary quickly stood up. “You had them lock me in!”
“It is standard protocol when we are under attack to lock the passengers in their staterooms. To keep you out of danger, and from being a distraction.” He took his hand from behind his back. He held her sketchbook. She reached out, “Thank you.”
“They are quite good.”
“Thank you, they are just rough, very rough sketches of course, but when they are finished...”
The Captain interrupted, “And what were you thinking? Sketching the pirates as they were aiming at the ship? Did it not occur to you, you could be shot?”
Mary looked surprised, “I wanted to capture the moment. I would have moved. My intention was not to be in the way or to get hurt. Or to serve as a distraction.” She smiled.
He clasped his hands behind him. “It did not work.”
“Pardon?”
“Locking you in your room. You were still very much a distraction even when not on the deck.”
“Oh.” Mary blushed and lowered head, then lifted it quickly and looked him in the eyes smiling. “Good. Will you please keep me on then to finish my work? If I am to be a distraction even when I am out of your sight, what harm is there in letting me stay?”
He took a step closer, “We blew one ship out of pursuit, but the others are between us and the port. I have a feeling they were testing us. So for now we will continue on our route. There is a chance the boats in pursuit assume we are heading back out to sea and will not follow us. If they talked to others in port then they may know we are heading up the coast so we need the head start. At this time, you will finish your paintings for King George, and then we will return you home.”
“Thank you, captain.” Mary cocked her head, “You will be glad. I will make you proud. I promise.”
He bowed and smiled at her, absorbing every nuance of her hair and her smile. She was intoxicating. Having her around was dangerous. When he had seen the pirate aiming at her, his heart had stopped. He forgot all about his command and swung over to get her out of harm’s way. All thought for the safety of the men in his charge had left his mind. What was he doing? She hadn't flinched in the face of danger, if anything, she'd seemed invigorated by it. After the pirates had been taken care of, one of the men had brought him her book. The sailor had a smirk on his face.
“Sir, the young lady's sketches.”
He flipped to the first. A bustling port scene, and his ship drawn in great detail. She must have sketched it before boarding. She even drew in the scrape where the anchor had bumped the side in rough seas. Her eye for detail brought the picture alive. She was good. He flipped the page. Now he knew the reason for the sailor's smirk.
She had drawn him while he was commanding the sailors to fire upon the pirates. If this was the way she saw him...she had put a glint and power in his eyes, he looked fiery and magnetic, even to himself. Now that he knew how she saw him...he was sunk.
She was in more danger than she knew. How could he control his urge to sweep her into his arms and head for the shores of pleasure? He would control himself and avoid her in person, even if he couldn't abandon her in his thoughts.
As he left her room and closed the door, he thought back on her parting words, I will make you proud.
He thought, standing the way she did in the face of danger to draw his visage and those of the pirates, “You already have.”
That afternoon, he sent an invitation for Magdela and Ms. Welch to join him at the officers’ dining table for dinner. When he entered the room he found they had not arrived. He asked the sailor standing at muster, “Please escort Ms. Welch and her chaperone to the dinner table.”
Ms. Welch entered the room only followed by the sailor. The officers stood, and the Captain moved to pull out Ms. Welch's chair. “I am sorry, but Ms. Magdela is under the weather and cannot make it to dinner.”
Captain Graham said, “I am sorry, the sea does not affect all as a comfort. May I introduce my officers, ‘Mr. Randall Cullen my first officer whom you have met, Lt. Kerry, Lt. Sedgwig, Lt. Taussant, and Lt. Gregory.’”
The officers seated themselves after the captain took his place. Randall, the first officer, led them in prayer. The dinner courses were served by one of the wait staff.
Mary inclined her head not sure of what to say. She had never dined without another female companion in a room of men, ever.
The officers ate in silence, not being accustomed to a young lady without her c
haperone.
After the meal, the captain stood, “Gentlemen, I will see Ms. Welch to her room. Good evening.” They all murmured good evening back and stood as the captain and the lady did.
When they were out of the room, Mary turned toward the captain, “Could we please go out on deck for some fresh air? I'd like to see the coast in the starlight.”
The captain motioned toward the stairs leading up to the deck.
“Thank you,” Mary said.
They walked along the upper promenade deck reserved only for the officers who at this time were all below deck. The first night watch was out. The officers would sleep while they could, as they may be called to muster at anytime for any emergency or occurrence out of the ordinary.
The ocean breeze ruffled Mary's hair. “It is so beautiful out here.”
Mary looked up at the sky. The moon slipped behind a cloud, and the deck went dark. Mary pitched one way as the ship went the other, and the captain reached out to brace her. His touch sent a shiver down her back. He kept his hands on her arms, and spoke softly, “You will get your sea legs soon. Every pitch and sway will be natural. Then when you are back on shore you will wish you were at sea again.”
“Is that how it is for you?”
He waited a moment before answering, “Yes.”
The moon came back out from behind the clouds revealing them to any who would look their way, so the captain dropped his arms from hers.
“Do you not have any loved ones on shore? A family to come home to?”
“A brother. He is assigned to another ship. Our paths rarely cross.”
“Have you never wanted a wife, children, a home?”
“The ship I am assigned to is my home. Being the wife of a naval captain would be a hell for any woman. She would always come second to duty for country and king. When you are back on shore you will meet another landowner’s son, and have a home and a life. You will soon forget about your adventure aboard the HMS Devonshire.”
“No! I could never forget you.”
She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, as they strolled down the promenade, chaperoned only by the sailors on the night watch who were perched high above in the crow’s nest, at the steerage, and on the bows.