by T L Ford
Jayden half-shrugged. "I suppose I'm just curious as to why he did that. I mean, I know what motivates your father. He just wants to be his vision of what he thinks a good father is. Whether that's right or not for you both is debatable."
Angela's mouth twitch in 'that was understated' amusement.
Jayden pressed on, trying to sound casual but not quite succeeding, "Your Guildmaster must have had some motivation, too. I'm sure training you was expensive. A man like that doesn't invest lightly." He yawned and straightened. "Anyway, I'm heading back to my bed. It's bound to be a long, excellent day of sailing tomorrow. Let me know if you spot any whales." He withdrew.
"As if nightmares weren't enough," she thought, "Now I've got a ship of people all trying to break my Guild connection." But why had Guildmaster de Merryweather protected her and trained her? At the time, she had felt she was paying a lot for the instruction, but now that she was older and had spoken with more people and had compared her knowledge and skill to others, she knew her Master had hired the best available. The paltry tithe she'd brought in over the years didn't cover the cost of even one of them.
Yet the man had never treated her as anything other than extended family in private and a suitable guildmember in public. Certainly, she kept his rooms clean and his clothes mended, but he didn't seem to notice, and if he had really wanted it, hiring someone would be negligible given his income. He was also perfectly capable of keeping his own ledgers. Not to mention that he trusted her with his treasury - no one had ever been trusted with that, not even Davies when he was the sole apprentice. Kevin had just flippantly told her to take whatever she felt she needed or just what she wanted, with the sole direction to note it in the ledger.
"He must have chosen me as his Dauphin very long ago," she whispered into the wind, humbled. Whatever his motivation at the start, he certainly withheld nothing from her now. If he hadn't cared for her, he would have ordered her to kill Davies and the other traitors. It was within his ownership and geas to be able to do so. The hardened old thief that people kept telling her was cruel and evil had a soft spot and a kind heart that he kept hidden from others. Very well hidden, she noted. A Guildmaster with a soft spot would be a dead Guildmaster. She was definitely his soft spot. He'd known she would be a target and had done his best to make sure she could withstand the attacks. He'd not thought to protect her mother though and she hadn't realized it would be necessary.
She thought of Robbie Dale sprawled on the floor in the drawing room. She spent the remainder of the night thinking about all of her soft spots. She did not see a whale nor did the dolphins return. Sunrise, however, was spectacular. She squinted at it for a short bit and went back to bed. Her dreams were not pleasant.
* * * * *
Their first stop was at a town run by mages. Pristine buildings and roads made their harbor market a thing of beauty. Even the fish stands were clean and orderly. As Angela walked the streets with Robbie and Kent, she remarked on the obvious wealth. Exquisite jewelry and filled pouches were the norm, not the exception. In fact, she got quite a few derisive stares due to her lack of proper wardrobe for a lady.
"They have no fear here," Robbie explained. "The mages keep the place clear of people like us."
"Well, we aren't going to do anything untoward. It's just good to get away from the ship for a while. Is that a magic item shop?" She stopped to peer in the window. Bottles, scrolls, collections of odd things that must be reagents were scattered on the shelves. She ducked inside. Robbie and Kent followed.
The proprietor appeared almost instantly. He did not walk in. He just materialized behind his counter and looked them over scornfully. He wore a traditional mage's cowl. "I do not sell to thieves. I invite you to leave."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'd hoped to find a scroll. Do you have any recommendations for someone who might sell to us?" Angela asked politely.
"No. Why don't you try one of your guildhalls?"
"Oh? Do we have one here?" she inquired brightly, with hope. She knew very well they didn't and the man was just being obstinate.
"Of course not, Fool."
She shrugged. "Pity. I suppose we could start one," she said casually to Robbie. "Then I'd have a shop to buy from." She bowed to the mage. "Sorry to have bothered you."
As she put her hand on the doorknob to leave, the mage said sourly, "What sort of scroll are you looking for?"
"One of geasing and one of removal for the same." She turned back.
"Don't you thieves ever want something original? All that silly geasing and fake loyalty. I think your entire Guild would collapse without us providing for your sick habit."
"Not everyone is geased. We'd not have any coins left at all if we did that."
"Those two with you are. I can see the magic wrapped around them, as well as around the ring in your pocket and that one's weapons." He pointed at Robbie. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you prisoner or nobility?"
"Both, I suspect. What original scroll would you recommend? I confess I don't have a great deal of knowledge about the types of scrolls mages can create."
"How about this one of dragon summoning?" The mage touched one on the shelf behind him.
Angela knew she might barely use the scroll of geas removal. The indicated scroll would kill her. "Sounds very expensive."
"Expensive, but powerful. Any dragon so summoned would be under your command for a while. It took me quite a while to inscribe it."
"How much would such a powerful scroll sell for?"
"Normally, eight platinum. But for you, Thief, I'll give you a special price of a mere ten platinum."
"Add three scrolls each of geasing and geas removal, and I'll consider it." Those scrolls were worth about two platinum combined.
"Very well. Do we have a sale, Thief?"
"I will be back with coins." As well as with another mage to verify all seven scrolls.
On her return, she bought those seven, as well as two potions of healing, all for a renegotiated price of five platinum. None of them could use the dragon scroll, at least no one else would be able to. Besides, her Master liked unique treasures. She still likely paid way too much for it, but she could make up the coins in Siedes, a city both wealthy and Guild-run.
When Angela and bodyguards returned to the ship with their purchases, her father was waiting. "Angela, per your Lord Merryweather's request, I've engaged a governess to teach you the ways of a lady. She'll arrive with her things and sail with us tomorrow. I also bought you several more dresses and undergarments she requested. You should be able to alter them to fit?"
Angela wasn't the least bit pleased with the news, but she had promised Kevin she'd try - both to be nice to her father and to learn ladylike skills, so she replied kindly, "Thank you. I'm sure I'll be able to alter them. What's her name?"
"Lady Trina Dowell. She had many references and has worked with many fine young ladies, as well as had taught in a private school."
"Will she tolerate the rough conditions of a ship?"
"She will. I've told her the crew will behave respectfully."
"I look forward to meeting her then." She smiled, bowed, and took her purchases off to her Guild storage crates.
* * * * *
Angela was on deck in the morning, waiting. The crew had been ready to cast off hours ago. The sun was high in the sky before the woman arrived.
Angela disliked Lady Trina Dowell from the moment she saw her. She was the type of lady that had always treated her mother like she was less respectable than dirt because she worked. She was absurdly dressed for the warm weather in a dress with long sleeves, an impossibly high ruffled collar, and white gloves. The gray dress color aligned with the dark gray hair that was pulled up into a tight ball on the top of her head. She carried a frilled umbrella whose rounded balloon shape mimicked the bottom of the dress. She paraded up the plank, hand held by Angela's father, and looked about with disdain. Her eyes passed over Angela without stopping.
"This will do," she said, her voic
e high pitched and nasal. "Where is the young lady who will be my charge?"
"That would be me," Angela said, stepping forward briskly, holding out her hand. She was dressed in a light sun-colored dress that she had altered to remove the sleeves and some of the neckline, and to loosen the top. It was simply too hot for too much material.
Lady Dowell looked Angela over, head to toe and then back up again. Angela let her hand fall back to her side. The woman peered at Angela's father. "Introduce us, Sir?"
"Lady Dowell, this is my daughter, Angela."
"Why is she half-clothed? I know you said she was an independent spirit, but surely you can afford proper clothes?"
"I pick my own clothes," Angela declared.
"You may call me Lady Dowell. And you will have to learn to pick correct clothing. This nakedness is entirely inappropriate in the company of men. We shall start on that now. You will change into something respectable immediately. Your manners are atrocious and an abomination, but we'll have that fixed shortly. Show me to my room."
Annoyed, Angela snapped, "My name is Angela Thomas, and you may call me Lady Merryweather."
"Don't be snide with me, Young Lady. I know precisely your type. You've been allowed to run around like a delinquent entirely too long. Willful, headstrong, and given anything you desire. Those are not compliments, in case you are confused."
"See the sun directly overhead," Angela pointed. "That's high noon. If you had been here in the morning as we had expected, you would have had more time with me. As it happens, your lessons end at midday, every day. I'm certain my father explained this to you."
Her father was speechless watching the exchange.
"Nonsense. Show me to my room."
"I'll show you, ma'am," Kent said, speaking up. "It's across from Lady Merryweather's. Here, I'll even carry your luggage." He reached down to pick up one end of the large trunk. Robbie took the other end.
"Thanks, Kent." Angela briefly rested her hand on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze before turning and walking away, leaving Lady Dowell sputtering that young ladies did not so casually address men. Angela went up to the bow and climbed into the rigging, fighting with the dress awkwardly, until she just grabbed the length of it, and pulled it up and draped it over her shoulder, completely exposing her legs. She knew that woman wouldn't follow her and she could pretend not to hear any shouting from below. From far above, she watched the woman gesturing at her father. She bet her father was getting quite the lecture. She hoped the woman would demand her things to be taken back to the dock so they could leave her behind. No such luck. After some shuffling, Jayden escorted Lady Dowell below deck and her father set sail.
* * * * *
The contest of wills began each morning and lasted precisely until midday, when Angela merely stopped seeing or hearing Lady Dowell and went on to her own activities. Angela could do nothing right. Lady Dowell harangued her nonstop. She stood wrong. She sat wrong. She held her head wrong. She spoke wrong. She did her hair wrong. She dressed wrong. Angela tolerated it to a point each day and then deliberately provoked Lady Dowell by going out of her way to "do things wrong".
Early on, Lady Dowell tried to prevent Angela from changing out of her dress at midday by putting her in a tight dress that laced up the back. Angela countered by having Kent cut away the strings and undo the buttons at high noon. Lady Dowell had nearly fainted at the sheer impropriety, for Kent had deliberately cut deeply, through the hateful corset also, ruining it and in the process exposing Angela's back. Lady Dowell punished Angela by making her practice curtseys the entire morning the next day, with a book on her head, but Angela was never forced to dress in something she couldn't get herself out of again.
Through it all, Kent, on day shift, watched from the sidelines. At first, Lady Dowell objected and tried to kick him out. Not succeeding with that, she chose to simply ignore him. The first time Lady Dowell tried to whap Angela with her fan, Lady Dowell found it ripped from her hand and snapped in half. Angela put her hand on Kent's and gently shook her head. "No, Kent, if my father and Lord Merryweather want me to learn this way, then I shall." She took back the broken fan and handed it to Lady Dowell. "My apologies, Lady Dowell. I'll replace the fan at the next port."
"This is entirely unacceptable. I won't have him in here any longer. It isn't proper."
"He's my bodyguard."
"You don't need a bodyguard. You need a spanking. I refuse to teach you as long as he is present." She stood. "I am going to tell your father this. You should sit here and contemplate the life of a serving wench, because you certainly aren't ever going to be a lady!" She stormed out.
Kent reached over and grasped Angela's arm when she stood to follow. "Let her go. She's not teaching you anything you couldn't discern from watching several ladies over tea."
Angela sighed. "I think it's the practice part I fall short on. Some of it needs to be just part of me or it will appear awkward and too studied. For example, I don't think I could act like her if I tried."
"If you ever act like her, I'll hire Robbie to kill you."
Angela grinned. "She sure is something special, eh?"
"Want me to help you out of your latest fabric prison?"
"Not yet. It's not noon. Besides, she'll be back any minute with my father."
"Can I switch to night shift? She might like Robbie better. He's got more class."
Angela shook her head. "He's better at night."
"So am I."
"I'll consider it." She tilted her head to the side for half a second, looking up at the ceiling. She looked back at him. "Ok, considered. No. I want you on day shift. You were pretty damn fast getting that fan."
"Speed motivated by a strong desire to take it and stab her with it. Luckily, I came to my senses before doing that."
"Luckily."
Her father strode in, followed by Lady Dowell. "What's this about Kent breaking Lady Dowell's fan?"
Angela and Kent spoke at the same time. Angela answered, "It was a misunderstanding." Kent explained, "She was going to hit Angela with it."
Jason Thomas spun to face Lady Dowell, "You were going to hit my daughter?"
"A light tap with my fan. Your daughter was being deliberately rude and disrespectful. How do you expect her to learn without discipline? I remind you that I have many years experience dealing with just this sort of thing and if you'll take this lout out of here, I'll resume instruction. Furthermore, being a lady is not a part-time activity. This noon-time end is absurd."
"Kent stays," Angela stated. "He'll not interfere again unless she's going to kill me."
"Exert your parental authority," Lady Dowell ordered Captain Thomas. "Young ladies must be taught to listen, though most learn it much younger."
"I don't think she can order me out, Sir." Kent offered. "I'm geased to protect her."
"You're what?" Lady Dowell shrilled. "That's absurd!" Speaking to Captain Thomas, she demanded, "Break the geas. This man is entirely inappropriate."
"I didn't do it." Captain Thomas went over to Angela. "Angela, please, you promised you'd try. Behave and listen. Try to get along?"
"I'll do my best," Angela promised. Although it wouldn't be nearly good enough. Her father left.
Just after he was gone, Lady Dowell pointed her finger at Angela. "So who did the geas? This 'Lord Merryweather' you mentioned? Is that your lover? Because I simply will not tolerate a whore nor tarnish my reputation instructing one."
Angela didn't answer that, and the remainder of the morning, she was harassed about her walk and posture. At noon, she wandered off, Kent in tow. When dinner time arrived and Robbie made an appearance, Angela said to her bodyguards, "So which one of you wants to be my lover? That woman must go at the next port." Robbie choked and Kent merely took him aside and explained.
A week of morning torture passed, with Angela starting to twitch with the desire to throw the woman overboard. The derogatory comments were constant. When they were within a day of the next port, it was
Kent who crawled into her bunk just before dawn. He was very careful not to touch her and she politely didn't look at him. When Lady Dowell rapped on the door with her umbrella handle, Angela swore loudly, using her best drunken-sailor-heard terms. They clunked around inside the cabin noisily and deliberately bumped the door open. Kent had one leg in his pants with the important parts swinging free. He had volunteered, saying he'd do just about anything to get rid of the woman. Angela clutched her sheet over her chest, but made sure Lady Dowell had ample view of bare shoulders and back. Lady Dowell turned and left and never spoke to Angela or Kent again.
When Lady Dowell departed from the ship, immediately after docking, she told Captain Thomas that his daughter was irredeemable and would never be a lady. Angela, Kent, and Robbie all stood at the rail and cheered. They were joined by several of the crew.
Angela's father walked over to them.
"I'll help select the next one," Angela offered.
He nodded stiffly and went to oversee the unloading of his goods.
* * * * *
This was a town that had originally been set up by the missions, but now was an eclectic mix. It was known for its wool and textiles. Sheep wool came from a short distance inland and was reworked into material and clothes. It was a place that her mother once said she would have moved to if she hadn't been waiting for Jason Thomas. Her best friend Luez would have thoroughly enjoyed finding out how each of the colors was made. The marketplace was predominantly clothiers and many well-dressed ladies and their escorts walked the busy streets. Angela had worn her comfortable yellow dress so she wouldn't stand out quite so badly, but every so often, she still received a disdainful stare at her bare arms and uncovered neck.
The town had no guildhall, but Angela and her men saw discreet signs inviting guildmembers to a specific pub in the evenings for general socializing. She offered to wait at the ship later that night if they wanted to go off on a break. Kent and Robbie immediately agreed they'd like that.
"As we'll be here for a while, waiting on people to respond to your father's advertisement for a new governess, do you think there's time for me to have an outfit or two made?" Robbie asked, looking thoughtfully into a men's clothier shop window.