by Beverly Adam
He stated simply, “I saw Jeremy, sir. At least ways I believe it was him, for he was dressed in the attire of a female. He, I mean, she . . . well, she was yelling and screaming at the top of her lungs at them cutthroats, urging them into action. She wanted them to kill you right away, sir. Villainous, it was.”
The gunner scratched the back of his neck in reflection.
“What followed was a wee bit of a blur, sir. I pulled myself together and entered the alley as one of those rapscallions was about to lay into you with a knife. I picked him right up and threw him head first against a nearby wall, knocking him out.”
The giant demonstrated the throw with his long brawny arms. His large muscles, the same ones he used working the heavy forge on a daily basis, flexed as he made the motions.
“And then I took the other scurvy rat . . . he was a bucktoothed, skinny fellow that was standing next to you. He had a lead pipe in his hands ready to smash yer bones up with, he did, the rotter. Well, him I simply picked up by his boot straps and tossed him into the gutter with the rest of the horrid filth. He landed there and didn’t budge, I’m glad to say, sir.”
“As for yourself, you showed you were no yellow-tailed coward, sir. You’d already taken down one of them four scalawags before I got there, another you laid out with a good right hook to the jaw before a third hit ye in the back with a club, Commander.”
“But what of Jemima? What did she do?” asked Sarah, her hands clenching her skirt, outraged by the thought of evil scoundrels trying to hurt Robert.
“She came at me like a wild cat, that one did,” said O’ Grady, pointing to a series of small scratches that ran down his sun-tanned cheeks.
His wife leaned over and kissed the scratch and said, “Brave man that you are.”
“She was after your blood, sir. I must confess I wasn’t sure what to do about her. I swear, ma’am, I’ve never laid a finger against a female before in my entire life. And this time I wouldn’t have done it if she had not been set on destroying our good commander. She was ready to poke him herself with a blade that she had gripped in her hand.”
“You do credit to your mother, Master O’ Grady,” Sarah commented, calmly reassuring him that whatever he did must have been done for the side of good—not evil.
“Aye, that he does,” agreed his wife, beaming a smile of approval up at her giant of a husband as she hugged his side.
“But you know, sir, she was no lady you were holding at bay,” added Sarah. “Gentlemanly restraint cannot be expected to be fair for everyone, especially when such as Jemima Kaye is hell-bent on seeing you killed. Aye, it is best to be after taking care not to have any harm come to yourself first than worrying over behaving properly to an evil viper such as her.”
“Aye, that’s for sure, Mistress. Musha, to think she and I were once shipmates, sharing the same food, drinking and working together. Aye, it makes my head swim to think of it. How for weeks she fooled all of us concerning her true sex and reasons for being aboard The Brunswick. It is all confusing.”
He turned to Robert with an inquiring look.
“Did you know about her, sir? Is that why you were in that alley where I found you? Was it because of that hellion, sir?”
The officer nodded, slowly answering, “Aye . . . I remember vaguely seeing a woman who reminded me of someone. She was singing in the tavern—a terrible ditty—and playing an accordion. When I saw her face—” His face brightened, he suddenly remembered what happened. “That’s it! I recognized her immediately as our missing Jeremy!”
He touched the lump at the back of his head gingerly.
“I think I must have decided to have a word with her. We talked briefly, that much I remember. She told me that she would meet me outside . . . alone. I went out and after that . . .” He left the thought unfinished, shaking his head, unable to recall what had happened next.
“I don’t remember. It must be that when I stepped outside, she had already arranged for those scalawags to put an end to me.”
He held out his hand to his master gunner.
“I owe you my life, O’Grady. If you hadn’t found me, it is certain I wouldn’t be here today. Instead, I would be yet another unexplained corpse left in a dark alley to be dropped into a gravedigger’s ditch.”
The gunner, his head humbly bowed by the compliment, shook Robert’s hand.
“It was my pleasure, to be of some service to you, sir. You’re a fine officer, Lieutenant. And I’d not be ashamed to serve under you once more if you were to be once again commander of The Brunswick. Aye, ye did a splendid job with both her and the crew. ’Tis certain it’ll be a grand day for all of us when the Admiralty promotes you to the full rank of captain, sir.”
“But what of Jemima Kaye?” Sarah asked. “What became of her? Did ye hand her over to the redcoats, Master O’ Grady?”
“Nay, I didn’t have the chance.” The giant shook his head. “She kicked me in an unmentionable place and I dropped her. After which she took off at a quick run. Regrettably, I couldn’t catch up with her.”
He shook his head sadly. He had failed his commander.
“Aye, ’tis right sorry I am, Lieutenant. She escaped. A group of militia showed up shortly thereafter to sort out them other two cutthroats I knocked about. They recognized you, sir, and took away them scurvy knaves, leaving us to go peaceably our own way. I brought you straight away back here. I went to the garrison this morning to interrogate the two thugs they caught. They stayed mum about Jemima’s possible whereabouts. I’ve never seen men more scared of a woman than I did them. She’s a dangerous one, that’s for sure, and those blackguards had no wish to cross her. Aye, other than that, there’s nothing more I can tell you, Commander.”
“No one blames you, O’Grady. You did the best that you could. Jemima Kaye ought to be on the block for what she did,” Robert said. “Put any doubts you have on that matter once and for all to rest. If any finger pointing is to be done, it ought to be directed at me, for my pigheaded impudence in thinking that I could approach her on my own.”
He spoke bitterly of his rash behavior, “I behaved like a veritable fool. So full of myself, believing no harm could possibly occur to me. I believed that I was impervious to the same villainous schemes that had struck down Captain Jackson and John Stafford.”
He shook his head.
“The only action that can redeem my brash behavior is that I had the intelligence to listen to you, and the crew’s advice, in bringing Captain Jackson to Varrik Island. It would appear to be the only intelligent and sane decision I’ve made thus far.”
“Ye mean to say that Captain Jackson is still alive and well, sir?” asked the astonished gunner, looking at Sarah for affirmation.
She nodded. “He’s right this moment on the Island of Varrik under my mother’s care, recuperating from having been poisoned by Jemima Kaye.”
“Poisoned, ye say! Well, I never in me life . . .” the master gunner muttered. “If ever I lay my hands on that vicious harlot—I swear female or not, I’ll tear her limb to limb for the harm she’s done to our men.”
“That is if you can ever lay your hands upon her, Master O’Grady. Undoubtedly, she’s by now far away from here and out of the law’s reach. It might all be for the best, who knows how many other scurvy rogues she has at her command?” Robert said darkly.
Sarah glanced at him with concern.
She could see that he was taking this disappointment squarely on the chin. He was no longer deluding himself with the possibility of capturing Jemima Kaye. He had been outmaneuvered and outmanned by the cross-dressing hellion.
He frowned, taking a sip of the tea she’d left next to him.
“I must make a full account to the Royal Admiralty on the morrow. They will want to know everything that has happened since I took command. There will be some fuss over my not having alerted them as to Captain Jackson’s continued existence. However, I think the events of last night might excuse my obvious omission.”
He turned to the gunner. “My memory being what it currently is, I will have to depend on you to fill in the blanks concerning what happened last night. They will probably demand testimony as to what took place at The Hair of The Dog between those ruffians in the alley and us. I’ll need your help, O’Grady, in explaining all of this to the Admiralty.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” the master gunner agreed readily. He understood the seriousness of the matter as the first mate’s career was on the line. His future depended upon a favorable review by the naval board.
“I’ll try to do my best, sir.”
“Good man,” said Robert approvingly, his eyes fixed upon the map above him.
It was the same one he had used to chart his first voyage to Varrik Island. Sarah could almost read his thoughts concerning what he intended to do after the Admiral Review Board’s inquiry.
“You’re planning on returning to Ireland to fetch Captain Jackson back to England, aren’t you?” she said. “You’ve given up pursuing Jemima?”
“Yes, I’ll have to leave this matter in the hands of the government for now,” he said, resigned. He had no other options open to him.
She knew it was hard for him to swallow his pride and admit defeat. But in his present condition, he could not take on Jemima Kaye and her black-market pirates. He would have to trust the redcoats to try and sniff the possible murderess out. Robert had no other choice. He was physically and mentally beaten. He would have to give up his investigation.
She felt a small measure of his frustration. She too would have liked the assassin captured and punished for her crimes. If not for what happened to Robert last night, then for John Stafford’s death and the almost fatal poisoning of Captain Jackson. Aye, such a she-devil ought to be caught and made to pay.
* * *
After the master gunner left, she got into bed beside Robert and held him comfortingly in her arms. He turned towards her and started to speak, wanting to tell her how much she meant to him, but she prevented him, placing a finger on his lips.
“Shush. . . now is not the time for talking,” she said, “For sure now, Robert, I don’t want you making any rash promises, which you might later regret. I have no desire to add to your troubles. I want you to promise me you’ll wait until we return to my mother’s island before we talk about any possible future we might have together. Please, promise me.”
Nodding, he agreed.
“Aye, you’ve the right of it, Sarah. This isn’t the time to make life-changing decisions. We don’t know how the Admiralty may view the events that have transpired since Captain Jackson took ill and left The Brunswick in my care . . . I may very well find myself walking the docks tomorrow looking for another job, or worse, be clapped in irons.”
“Then, let us be together tonight, without any thoughts about tomorrow,” she suggested, smiling at him as she laid her head against his chest. “For who knows how much longer we may remain together?”
Agreeing, he lowered his head, capturing her lips with his own. It had been a few days since he’d shaved and she could feel the rough stubble around his lips as he brushed his mouth up against hers.
Gently stroking her face, he looked into her bright blue eyes.
“Sarah,” he said, “You are more than I deserve.”
“Am I? Reward me then with that which I desire most,” she said, pulling her gown off her shoulders, drawing him closer to her.
“And what would that be?” he asked, smiling, guessing already her reply.
“You, sir, in my bed . . .”
“You are such a demanding woman.” He laughed, planting another kiss on her lips, as he helped her remove the remainder of her clothing. “What am I to do?”
“Obey me,” she said in a stern manner, imitating him, while holding his manhood in her hands. “And no harm will come to you.”
“Indeed, minx,” he answered, laughing under his breath as his arousal grew, “I find myself in a vulnerable position. Your orders shall be obeyed to the letter, ma’am. What shall I do next?”
“Make love to me right away, sir.”
“Yes, ma’am, willingly, I obey.”
He gave her a mock salute, as his other hand moved her underskirts out of his way so that he might access her most intimate of places.
“Hmm . . . ,” he said, noticing the knife she kept habitually strapped to her leg. “I doubt very much we shall have need of that tonight. Permission to throw it, ma’am.”
“Granted.” She laughed, delighted.
He removed it, and with the agility of one used to weapons, adeptly threw it so that it struck the top of the doorframe, where it remained.
“Any other secrets you wish to share with me?” he asked, kissing her neck as his hands reached under her and held her bottom.
“Just this one,” she replied, her breath becoming heavy with desire. He placed his firm manhood inside her, their joining was a bittersweet one as their cries echoed throughout the empty ship, for who knew if tomorrow they might not be separated forever. At least tonight they would enjoy and cherish each other.
Chapter 12
The verdict of the Royal Admiralty’s Board of Review was quick and swift. Although members of the board expressed displeasure at being kept in the dark about Captain Jackson’s true condition, and therefore disapproved of the manner in which the officer was hidden on a tiny island in Ireland, they understood the circumstances of Robert’s actions.
It was as one admiral surmised, “Done without any malice towards good Captain Jackson. And as The Brunswick is safely returned here to Portsmouth, we see no reason for Lieutenant Smythe to be reprimanded for doing what he thought was best to protect both Captain Jackson and his crew.”
He gave a favorable nod in the young officer’s direction.
“Indeed, it is our general opinion that the first mate may have managed to save the same gentleman’s life, by bringing him to the learned wise woman . . . and as we have learned, the good Captain Jackson is said to be on the way to what is hoped will be a full recovery of health.”
The admiral looked up from the papers from which he was reading the summary of the board’s decision. His white wig slipped down a little over his wrinkled brow. He turned a page and continued.
“Now, as to the matter concerning the deserter, ordinary seaman Jeremy Kaye, whom we now know as Mrs. Jemima Kaye, we have advised that a warrant be issued for her immediate arrest. A reward has been posted for information concerning the murder of Captain Jackson’s steward, John Stafford.”
He paused in his speech, looking about the room to those who waited on tenterhooks concerning Lieutenant Smythe’s future. The hour of reckoning had come.
“As to the attack upon Lieutenant Smythe and that immoral den of iniquity, known as The Hair of The Dog Tavern. . . . Upon the morrow, it is to be permanently closed. It has been deemed an embarrassment to his majesty’s navy and a scourge upon our fair land that a den of scoundrels and crooks should be openly operating within the vicinity of this harbor. It shall be immediately closed and torn down.”
“We are the center of the Royal British Empire. This sort of evil activity against a naval officer will have serious repercussions. Let it be a warning to other establishments of entertainment that think that we will turn a blind eye to such nefarious activities,” said the admiral sternly.
“Huzzah for the Admiralty!” came a shout from among the seamen in the surrounding galleries, interrupting his speech. “Huzzah!”
A large contingent of ex-crewmembers from The Brunswick sat in the public galleries. Many of the seamen had already volunteered to go with a troop of marines to help tear down the disreputable tavern in retribution for what had happened to the well-liked master and commander.
“In conclusion, although we disagree with the secretive manner in which Lieutenant Smythe left Captain Jackson recuperating in Ireland, and the impetuosity in which he pursued his inquiries into the death of John Stafford . . .” The admiral took a moment as he prepared
to make his final pronouncement, looking carefully over the parchment in front of him. The gallery held their collective breaths. Would the brave young master and commander receive any undue punishment because of the heinous actions of an evil hellion? Was his promising naval career abruptly to be put to an end? Or was he to be praised and applauded for his unwavering courage and bravery?
“We are, however, pleased with the measures he undertook to safeguard his majesty’s frigate, The Brunswick and its crew. He has proven himself an able commander during a tumultuous time. We therefore are unanimous in our decision that acting master and commander, Lieutenant Robert Smythe, shall continue to serve king and country in the Royal Navy. And—” He stopped.
A spontaneous round of applause and cheers broke out. Whistles and catcalls of agreements were heard emitting from the galleries surrounding the courtroom.
The admiral waited until the audience had calmed itself. He then waved a hand for the caterwaul to cease.
He concluded his speech saying, “Upon the safe return of Captain Jackson, further inquiries shall be made as to what rank he shall be rated by his majesty’s Admiralty.”
“Three cheers for Lieutenant Smythe!” cried out one of the seamen in the gallery.
A round of “Hip, Hip, Hurrahs!” was heard around the chamber, seconding the motion. Hats were thrown in the air and the seamen who had served with Lieutenant Commander Smythe patted each other in joy on the back.
Tears sprung to Sarah’s eyes.
The men’s open support of Robert brought a most touching and affirmative end to the proceedings. He had been found innocent of any wrongdoings and commended for his bravery. His career as a naval officer would continue as planned. There would be no punishments, only merited commendation.
Robert turned around and gave her a relieved smile. She returned it, watching as seamen and ladies of all ages surrounded him, eager to shake his hand.
Brave and handsome, she knew he would be the talk of the town for days to come. Reporters from the local daily gazettes quickly sketched his profile. The young master and commander had proven himself before the Admiral’s Review Board. His record would remain unblemished by the unsavory incidents that surrounded the poisoning of Captain Jackson and the murder of John Stafford.