Only a Hero Will Do

by Susan Lodge

  Hetty brushed his spittle from her cheek. What part of her anatomy were her gizzards?

  This gathering was a lot more terrifying than the discreet gaming soirees she had infiltrated before. There, she had been amongst her own kind, although, like these men, they were usually the worse for drink. She always masqueraded as a young gentleman en route to visit relatives in Cornwall. Here, she wasn’t sure who she was meant to be.

  The doctor’s words haunted her. You must not confer with the lower decks.

  He would be outraged if he could see her now. She suddenly wanted to turn tail and retreat to the civilised bit of this floating city on the stern end. Instead, she simply nodded and produced the stake that Dan had lent her. The smell of stale sweat and urine from her neighbour made her stomach quiver, but she squared her shoulders and concentrated on the cards dealt to her.

  She studied their moves, their faces, their hands, their gestures – all the things her tutor had taught her. She gave in to the flow of the cards, ignoring the conversation. She didn’t understand most of the jests and expletives, but knew she would ponder them later.

  ***

  Captain Derwent filled his glass and then Robert’s. He took a sip and smacked his lips in appreciation. “I’ve had a dispatch via the cutter. We should be able to rendezvous directly with the hospital ship now we have found the weather again. They have a very important cargo for your attention.”

  “Someone they are very keen to keep alive, I suppose,” Robert replied. “An injured viscount or admiral, you mean. Am I to know his name or the extent of his injuries?”

  “I know neither myself, but you’re the best physician we have and the best hope of keeping him alive until he can talk.”

  “An informer, then?”

  “Maybe.” The captain sighed. “I’m not sure whether he wore red or blue on the battlefields. But he’s of great interest to the Intelligence.” He set his glass down and leaned back in his seat, giving Robert a beaming smile, which warned him that he would not like the next bit of information. “I intend for Miss Avebury to travel back on the hospital ship to Portsmouth with you, Doctor. I have sent word ahead, assuring Sir Henry Avebury that she will be delivered back safe and sound.”

  Robert, although appreciative of the fine glass of wine, found it didn't soothe his temper.

  “I will be fully occupied on the hospital ship with injured men. I cannot continue to act as a chaperon to Miss Avebury, and if anyone needs one, she does.”

  The captain frowned. “I was not aware of any trouble caused by the lady’s presence.”

  “No,” Robert said, “but I am able to make sure that remains so because I keep a very close eye on her movements.”

  The captain resumed his smile after a moment. “It will be easier on the hospital ship. Half the crew are not in any condition to be a threat to her.”

  Robert didn’t appreciate the man’s humour. He had expected the captain would relieve him of the responsibility of Hetty Avebury in Gibraltar. A strange mix of emotions battled inside him. He didn’t want to be the one responsible to return the poor girl to a life of misery with a man like Stark. He also knew if he had to travel back to England with her, he would get more and more involved. Yet he had to admit it was not an entirely unattractive idea.

  ***

  Hetty smiled with relief as she turned the last card. She had calculated well, and the element of luck was with her.

  “Bugger me!” The man with the heavy jowls scratched his head, and Hetty shifted a little farther from him.

  “’E’s a lucky sod.” The voice held a menacing tone. “Too lucky.”

  Hetty gathered her winnings quietly, and then carefully adjusted her tone to mutter her thanks for the game. As she rose, she caught the eye of a delighted Dan just before a callused hand grasped her wrist and pulled her forward.

  “Not so fast. I ain’t sure how you did that, but I am sure I hate cheats.”

  She looked away to avoid meeting his eyes. Instead, she focused on the remnants of his last meal, clearly distinguishable on the front of his shirt. This combined with an escalating terror made Hetty’s stomach heave. She’d had to deal with bad losers before but ones a little more refined than this.

  Dan wrenched the man’s hand off Hetty and shoved him back in his seat. “He won fair and square. I can tell a cheat even if you can’t, so leave him be.”

  “I want a chance to win me blunt back,” the man growled, balling his fists and propelling himself toward Dan.

  Hetty winced and the man yelped as Dan sidestepped, nimbly turned, and rammed a fist into his attacker’s head. He rubbed his knuckles and looked at the remaining players. “Anyone else want to argue?”

  Hetty thought they might well have if a loud and rhythmic drum beat hadn’t suddenly filled the air. The deck erupted into activity in response to the signal to beat to quarters. Tables cleared, and men and cards disappeared in seconds.

  “Quick, let’s be gone,” Dan whispered. “I need to get to my post on deck. The fog must have given cover to a Frenchie.”

  Hetty sent up an emergency prayer for a timely diversion as she followed Dan on deck, and then followed that prayer with a more earnest one as the ship rocked with an almighty blast.

  The deck erupted before her, sending shards of wooden splinters through the air. She gasped as a bolt of pain slammed into her thigh and her leg buckled. Fumes of smoke stung her eyes, and she lost sight of Dan. Desperately, she tried to push to her feet then a hand grasped her arm, pulling her up and through the mayhem of shouts and screams.

  “Are you hurt bad, Miss Avebury?”

  She glanced down at her leg. Her trousers had been pierced at her thigh, and a splinter of wood protruded from it.

  “No, Dan. Keep going.” The terrifying sounds of battle distracted her from the wound. As another blast rocked the ship, Dan pushed Hetty into one of the store rooms. He covered her with a length of sail cloth then looked anxiously at her.

  “I must get to my station.”

  Realising the terrible trouble his absence would land him in, she gestured for him to go, her words stifled by the savage gunfire.

  Dan gave her a wobbly smile. “Lie low and don’t worry. We’ll get through. She’s a good ship.” Then he shut the door and left her.

  Hetty couldn’t imagine anything good about the ship or her situation as pain and terror rocked her senses. The quiet boredom of Avebury Hall suddenly didn’t seem so bad at all. She put her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes tight as horror ricocheted around her.

  ***

  Huddled for what seemed an eternity, the countless orders, the screams, and the deafening blasts of cannon fire finally gave way to an unnatural quietness. A new smell curled around her, the pungent scent of singed flesh and tar. From the conversation outside, she was able to learn that their attacker had stumbled upon them blanketed by the fog and had fled out of range.

  Gingerly, she flexed her cramped limbs. Her leg felt like a red-hot knife had been thrust into it, and the taste of blood was in her mouth from biting her lip with the pain. She hauled herself out of the covers and hobbled onto the deck.

  The fog-bank had cleared, and weak moonlight illuminated the aftermath of the battle. Several members of the watch cleared debris from the deck. They didn’t give her a second glance as she made her way toward the stern accommodations.

  She stepped into her cabin, shut the door behind her, and leaned back, closing her eyes with a sigh. As she dared to breathe freely again, she examined her damaged leg. The shard of wood that poked through her trousers had blood congealed around the wound, cementing fabric to flesh. She ripped the material around the wound and eased the garment off.

  A sudden rap at the door made her reach for her woollen robe and wrap it around her body.

  “Miss Avebury, are you in there? Are you unharmed?”

  Hetty tensed at his concern.

  “Yes, I am quite well, Doctor Withington. I have retired for the night.” />
  She heard him say, “Thank God.”

  A couple of seconds of silence followed before the rap at the door was repeated with considerably more force.

  “Make yourself presentable. I wish to speak to you.” The anger that now laced his words rooted Hetty to the spot.

  “Really, Doctor, can it not wait until the morning?”

  “No. I will give you five minutes. If this door is not opened by then, I will force it.”

  She shuddered at his ferocity.

  As if the pain in her leg weren’t enough to bear tonight, the doctor sounded in a vile mood. He had obviously missed her presence. She quickly wiped the grime from her face then hobbled across the cabin to release the bolt and open the door. The doctor stood there like a dark thundercloud.

  “Explain yourself, and it had better be good!” he snapped.

  Hetty quaked as she registered the full force of his anger. His green eyes were no longer impatient, as she had become used to – they were livid.

  “Where have you been? I take it you were somewhere you shouldn’t have been when the attack started, since no one could find you. I have spent hours tending broken bodies, half expecting you to be the next one carried in.”

  Hetty decided defence was her best action. “I just wanted a walk. I hid in one of the store rooms when the battle started.” This was at least half true.

  “You should have asked me to accompany you if you needed exercise.”

  “I wanted to be alone.”

  “To do what?” His eyes roamed the cabin and settled on the purse that contained her winnings. He stepped around her, bent, and picked it up. As he took in the large amount, a look of revulsion flashed across his features.

  Alarmed by what he might be thinking, she tried to resort to indignation. “You should not be in my cabin uninvited and unescorted. That is hardly the proper behaviour for a gentleman.”

  “Proper!” He gave her an incredulous look. “You wander around this ship unescorted and then dictate what is proper? I knew you were a strange female, but I didn’t have you down for a strumpet.”

  Hetty's face flamed. “How dare you!” She wanted to throw something at the man, but there was nothing to hand, so she stood clenching and unclenching her hands into fists. “What I do is none of your concern. Please get out of my cabin.”

  He took a step toward her. “Unfortunately, you are my concern. I have been given the task of protecting you while on board this ship. Your behaviour, however, is beyond the action of any decent person. Now, I will ask you one more time. What have you been up to? If you don’t reply in thirty seconds to my question, I shall be tempted to shake the information out of you.”

  “If you touch me, I will go straight to the captain,” Hetty replied, appalled at the threat of a physical assault.

  “I'm sure you would be ashamed to tell him the reasons for my actions. Ten seconds.” He took another step toward her.

  Good God, he had turned into a madman. She stepped away and found herself backed up against the bulkhead. Panic took over as she tried to keep him from advancing on her. “I had to raise some money, so I attended a card game. There is no need to get so angry,” she added.

  “A card game!” He looked confused for a moment then his expression changed, and Hetty realised she had just made her situation worse.

  Hetty’s voice turned bitter. “Someone in your position would not understand. You are allowed to use your skills to earn a living. You do not have to be provided for by a family who thinks of you as a burden and is prepared to sell you off to the highest bidder.”

  “That is absolutely no excuse to behave like a common fishwife by wandering below decks to attend a card game. Surely you realise the danger you were in.”

  Hetty gulped as he dashed a hand through his hair. His eyes had turned dark and molten.

  Oh, heavens, he looks wild. She swiped away a tear. She would not cry, not in front of him. She breathed deeply, her whole body shuddering.

  “My money was stolen. I didn’t give you all of it the other day.” She carefully avoided his eyes but felt the force of his increased anger seep from him and hang in the air. “I wanted to get it back. I needed to get it back. I am an expert card player, much better than chess. I have had to raise funds before and have successfully done so by playing the tables – in disguise, of course.”

  “You have gambled before?” His voice was now a dangerous growl.

  “Yes, I am very good at it.” Hetty’s chin went up defiantly. “But unfortunately, it’s much easier as a male.”

  “You were dressed as a man?” His lips turned into an ugly smile. “Ah yes, I remember your liking for male attire.” His next words were slow and forceful. “Gambling is a despicable vice, Miss Avebury, and so is breaking your word.”

  “I did not break my word. I did not give it. You assumed it.”

  “I will be careful not to make that mistake again. Why didn’t you tell me about the theft? I could have helped you.”

  “I would rather not owe any debts. I did not know you well enough to ask for money. I was made aware of a card game and I won. Now I have money, earned by my own skill. Have you any idea how good that feels? My own money, not given or asked for.”

  He stepped back and folded his arms over his chest. “Who told you about a card game?”

  “That is of no consequence.” She shook with alarm. On no account would she betray Dan.

  He drew in his breath sharply, and his eyes narrowed. “You must have had an accomplice. You could never have pulled off such a dangerous scheme on your own. Who was it?”

  She remained silent.

  He studied her for a few seconds before continuing, “You do realise gambling is forbidden?”

  “Yes, which is why I cannot tell you.”

  “Gambling is a flogging offence, Miss Avebury.” His voice now sounded cold and calculating. “Of course, that will not be your fate. But it might be the fate of your accomplice, Dickens. It was him, wasn’t it? It must have been.”

  “No! Please. It had nothing to do with him.” Good heavens, she couldn't let him implicate Dan. She would rather die than have her friend flogged.

  The doctor showed no mercy. “He knows the rules. But of course, you must have persuaded him to break them, impulsive as you are, with no thought of the consequences of your action. I will take this.” He pocketed the money bag. “You will not gamble on this ship again. Gambling is for fools. It will land you in despair and disgrace. When you leave the ship, you can have it back. You are also confined to this cabin until further notice. I need to speak to the captain about your future.”

  “Please, Doctor, I will do anything you say, but I beg you not to inform on Mr. Dickens. You were right; I made him help me. He would not have attended the game if I hadn’t persuaded him.”

  He seemed to consider her carefully before coming to a decision.

  “I give you my word that I will not inform on Dickens, just as I give you my word that if you cross me once again, I will turn you over my knee and ensure you will not be able to sit in comfort for at least a week. And unlike you, I always keep my word.”

  Hetty shuddered as he left. Beat her indeed, the barbarian! Her body was already wracked with pain from the injury. Still, she was relieved that she had not caused trouble for Dan.

  Hetty lifted her robe and inspected her leg. Gritting her teeth, she coaxed the splinter of wood out, leaving a wound that bled freely. She tore a strip from her chemise and stanched the flow then bound it as best she could. It hurt like Hades, but on no account did she want the doctor back. She was shaken by his reaction to her exploits. She crept miserably to her bed and sobbed from the pain of her leg and another inside her soul that the doctor had inflicted with his harsh words.

  Chapter Eight

  For the next two days, Robert scarcely had a minute to dwell on Hetty’s behaviour as the attack had left dozens of maimed bodies for his attention. The sick bay had extended far beyond its usual boundary, a
nd he was tired and hunched when he emerged onto the deck and breathed in the salty wind.

  He had not seen Miss Avebury since the night of the battle, but had put in place instructions for her meals to be served in her cabin and her personal needs to be attended to. He was still angry with the woman and with himself for allowing his temper to explode in such a manner. She wrung so many emotions out of him.

  She had been gambling below decks! He still could hardly believe it. How he detested gambling and all the waste and heartache that it caused. His father had committed suicide after losing everything at the card tables.

  Hetty Avebury gambled not only with money but also with her safety and virtue. He couldn’t bear to think of it, especially as she was supposed to be in his protection. He was responsible for her. She was turning out to be the most outrageous female he had ever met. He rubbed his chin, picturing her bright blue eyes and beguiling smile. A shiver ran through him as he considered all the terrible things that could have happened to her below decks.

  For now, he would deal with that idiot, Dickens. He intended to keep his word and not inform the captain of the illicit game, but by God, the man had some explaining to do.

  ***

  Dickens twirled the brim of his hat nervously through his fingers, but he had an unexpected defiant look in his eyes.

  “I promised Miss Avebury I wouldn’t inform on your gambling activities, but I want some answers. What the hell enticed you to lead a young woman into danger like that?”

  “Miss Avebury needed my help. I’ve known her all my life, and she’s always shown my family nothing but kindness. I would do anything for her.”

  Robert was intrigued. Surely her parents would not have permitted her to forge a friendship with the likes of Dickens.

  “If Miss Avebury is so special, what were you doing risking her life by taking her below decks?”

  Dickens’ head jerked in anger. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to her, Doctor. I can handle myself below decks. I wasn’t happy, but she can be very persuasive.”