I realized I would like to see her rendition of Gaston even more. Perhaps I had found a way to show him what I saw.
Gaston dropped down beside Pete and took up a puppy. The Golden One woke and eyed the “lads” standing near me with momentary curiosity before talking to Gaston. I decided a good dose of puppy breath was necessary, and dropped down to join them.
The girls were uncertain. Agnes finally joined us, and I passed her a puppy, hoping she would not coo over it in a ridiculous manner. She did not; she merely held it and smoothed its wrinkled skin with gentle touches. Nor did she squeal or in any way panic when Bella came to inspect her.
Miss Vines held her distance and watched us from behind a mask of detachment. She looked every bit the part she played. Lads trying to be men do not often have time for puppies: that is a boyish thing.
Striker joined us, with a bucket and brush in hand. His glare at Pete told me who had been doing much of the cleaning. His lack of interest in the “lads” told me he did not recognize Miss Vines in the least. I introduced them as Art and Chris, and he barely nodded.
“The house is looking much better,” I told him.
He awarded me a grim smile. “I am glad you think so. Liam and Otter have been asking about; they have had no luck locating a housekeeper. Would you ask Theodore of it?”
“Aye,” I said. “Speaking of Theodore, he needs any who wish for the land grants to meet with him and sign the papers. Please tell all our cabal. And Pete will need a surname.”
Striker sighed. “Damn, I suppose in this instance he cannot use mine.”
“You have never adopted a surname?” I asked Pete.
“Nay. TheyGiveMe OneAtNewgate. NotMine.”
“Then we will have to name you,” I said, and looked to Gaston.
He frowned in thought. Pete regarded us with suspicion.
I thought of my titles for him. I called him the Golden One, so perhaps Golden was an option, but perhaps it was a bit odd. And I thought of Striker and him as the wolves.
“Wolf,” I said. “Peter Wolf.”
Gaston nodded.
Pete thought on it, and looked to Striker, who grinned.
“I like it,” Striker said.
Pete slowly grinned. “MeToo. I’llTakeIt. ’CauseIGotTeeth SoseICanKill SpaniardsAn’ProtectPuppies.”
He hoisted the puppy he held up high, and it squawked in surprise, earning him glares from Bella and Gaston. He quickly brought it to his face and cooed reassuringly.
Striker and I laughed.
“Aye, aye, such a mean damn wolf,” Striker teased.
Pete stuck out his tongue at Striker.
“What are your plans?” Striker asked me.
“Palisadoes, sparring, teaching these lads a thing or two about swords.”
He shrugged. “Have a fine time, then. We’ll see Theodore.”
We handed Pete our puppies and departed.
“Are all buccaneers like them?” Agnes asked once we were out the door. “They seemed very nice.”
I chuckled. “They are unique amongst men. Nay, I feel most of the Brethren are not so very nice, and if you were a Spaniard or any other man those two despised, you would not find them nice at all. But Aye, most we choose to sail with are goodly men.”
“You need a housekeeper?” Miss Vines asked. She spoke quietly and without the attempt to disguise her voice or breeding.
“Aye,” I said. “We need someone to watch the place while we rove, and we need someone to maintain some degree of order when we are in port. Do you know of anyone available?”
She looked at Agnes, who was regarding a cart we passed. “Aye. Agnes’ father wishes to sell her as a bondservant.”
Agnes whirled on her friend with betrayal all over her pinched face. “Christine!”
“Hush,” Miss Vines admonished, and looked about.
No one seemed to be looking at us, but we hurried on anyway.
“Agnes’s stepfather has wished to sell her since her mother died recently,” Miss Vines continued a block later. “He has not, yet, because I have hired her as a servant, and thus he receives some income from her existence. Yet he still wants the pounds her contract could bring. I do not have the money, and as much as my father is a kind man, he will not see that we need another bondswoman.”
“You need worry about it no longer,” Gaston said firmly.
I grinned and addressed Agnes. “Aye, we will see to it. I have no interest in owning you, girl, but if it will give you a safe place to live and freedom of a different sort, we will arrange it. If you wish, of course.”
She shot Miss Vines another hurt glare before nodding thoughtfully to me. “I know nothing of housekeeping, sir. In England we had servants, and here, my stepfather has slaves.”
I shook my head. “Agnes, the only things we will require of you are that you live in the house while we are roving so that it does not burn down and no one takes up residence there. You would keep the cistern, woodbin, and lamps filled. And make sure the dogs are fed so that they do not roam the streets. You can practice art to your heart’s content. When we are in port, I do not know... I do not believe that house will be affected by any of our other plans. I do not know who will reside there. Currently, it is home to a whole host of our associates. I think merely having someone female about will mitigate most of the damage the house suffered these last months. However, it would be nice if you learned how to cook. Pete is very fond of pies and we boil all of our water.”
“I could do all of that,” she said.
“She should learn to shoot,” Gaston added.
“Who would I have to shoot?” she asked with alarm.
I snorted. “Any of our guests attempting to shoot rats inside the house. Or pissing on the walls.”
She was horrified, and I relented.
“Nay, nay,” I assured her, “it will not be so bad. Merely threatening to shoot them should suffice.”
She was still wide-eyed as we walked through the gate at Fort Rupert.
As always, this chance to do philanthropy pleased me; yet, I wondered if I would rue it in the end. My attempt to help the sheep of Ithaca had surely gone awry. And I honestly could not blame myself alone in that. Aye, I had left them, but it was possible that even if I had stayed things would be no different, other than my tearing my hair out with frustration. On the other hand, our rescue of Davey had provided him a better life. Agnes’ situation would remain to be seen, and I resolved to allow myself to feel pleasure at the initial promise of it.
We began to travel up the beach, seeking a place where we would not have an audience. Many of the buccaneers waiting to sail lived on the Palisadoes in little camps scattered here and there. To be clear of them, we knew we would have to go a good distance, and we settled into a jog to cover it. The girls brought that to an end after a hundred yards. They were already winded. I supposed it was to be expected, as they rarely had occasion to run anyplace. It would probably be a great effort for them to walk as far as we must. After all, they were women, and gentle ones at that, and thus not used to any form of labor or exercise.
And so we walked. Agnes bemoaned not bringing her sketchbook. Gaston engaged her in conversation about the plants we saw, and soon the pair of them were meandering to and fro between the water and trees. Meanwhile, Miss Vines and I walked a fairly straight path along the top of the surf. I knew this to be by Gaston’s design. Yet I was loathe to have the conversation he was giving me opportunity to engage in. Thankfully, Miss Vines was a forthright young woman.
“I was concerned we would not see you today,” she said. “I thought it likely I would not see you for another six months, but then you did seek me out this time.”
She awarded me a sly smile.
I smiled in return. There was no reason to dissemble; it would merely waste time.
“As I am engaged in dangerous enterprises, my father wishes for me to marry and produce an heir,” I said quickly.
This took the smile from her lip
s; she nodded to herself with her eyes on the horizon.
I continued. “According to the last letter I received, he is choosing, or has chosen, a bride, and is sending her forthwith.”
This brought a questioning frown, but she still did not turn to meet my gaze.
“I do not feel I shall like any bride he may choose,” I said. “I wish to choose my own.”
She nodded with full understanding. “I see. So you choose to woo me?”
“In this less than romantic manner, aye.”
“And I am deemed to have sufficient lineage?” she asked wryly.
“According to Mister Theodore’s research, aye.”
Her smile was fleeting. “I do not wish to marry nor have children.”
“I thought that your likely sentiment,” I sighed.
“Yet you feel I may be swayed, else you would not be here now?” she asked with a frown.
“My dear lad, I am walking up the beach to go and spar with my matelot. You sought me out this morn.”
“Touché. Is that not the term?” she asked.
I grinned. “I believe you are using it correctly.”
She sighed. “I daresay all of the men who have courted me would be appalled, if not terrified, by my wearing breeches. I can make strong men blanch by expressing my opinion. I do not wish to ever become what they wish for in a wife. I see the others of my sex living purportedly happy lives and I cannot conceive of it for myself. I never wish to live as they do.”
“What aspect of their existence do you find so unacceptable? I am merely curious. I can guess, but I would have you clarify it.”
“They do not think,” she said after a pause. “Or have a care, beyond the confines of their households and the welfare of their offspring. They live confined little lives, devoid of adventure and even discourse. They may as well be cattle lowing in the field.”
“Do you feel this is a natural state of affairs, or one forced upon them?” I asked.
“Both,” she snapped. “For many, they never wish to rise above it, and the ones that do are told they are unacceptable. They are reduced to games of intrigue and seduction in order to achieve anything of worth in the world. They may not battle with sword or coin to sway the future, or even defend their beliefs and honor. They must find a way to get a man to do these things for them.”
I had planned to disabuse her notions by saying I had met many a powerful woman, but I realized she was correct. Teresina was a fine example. All of her power issued from her ability to control men, which she excelled at. In the end she was trapped by it.
“I want to be able to do so many things!” Miss Vines yelled with a fervor that attracted the attention of Gaston and Agnes. “I read of great kings and generals and I want to lead a nation and win battles, not bed the men who do and bear their offspring. I want to learn to fence. I want to learn to sail. I would like to study medicine. I would attend Oxford. I would learn mathematics. All of that is denied me because of my sex. I hate it. I pray daily that some blessed event will occur and I will not be as I am.
“I must marry,” she spat. “I must because I have no other recourse. I do not wish to become a nun, though I have heard there are nunneries that harbor intelligent women. But then I would be trapped in ways I am not now. I suppose there are alternatives within the courts, but then my entire life will revolve about pleasing men, and I absolutely refuse. If I do not marry, I have nothing of my own. I have nothing of my own now. I can inherit from my father, but some man would need to manage it for me, because other men would not deal with me directly. I am not a person unless I bear some man’s name, and then I am his property.”
She was distraught to the point of tears, and I knew not how to comfort her. I had not considered the whole of it from her perspective. I had met women who were unhappy with their lot in life, and complained of a disparity in the way things were managed, but I had not understood. I thought it much like the occasional bleating I heard from sheep, protests made quietly against the rule of wolves by those that would never raise arms and thus become a wolf. Miss Vines was right, she could never even become a true wolf; she could only be the mate of one.
It was made worse in that she was of noble blood. She was not even known by her own name. She was not Christine Vines, but Miss Vines, her father’s daughter, and once she married, she would be Mistress Whoever. I vowed to call her Christine.
Gaston and Agnes had joined us and heard it all. Christine walked into the surf and tried to compose herself, with Agnes hovering helplessly nearby. I looked to my matelot and found him as surprised by her words as I.
He joined me. “I would not add to her misery.”
“Oui,” I sighed, “but she is correct. Perhaps… there could be freedom in bondage in this instance, much as what we offer Agnes.”
I joined the girls in the surf. “Christine?”
She looked at me sharply and then slowly smiled.
“I apologize for my outburst,” she said and pawed the tears from her eyes. “It is another weakness of my sex; I cannot seem to become engaged in any discourse that holds meaning for me without bursting into tears.”
I remembered her complaining of that when first I met her: I felt I had greater understanding of it now. “There is no need to apologize. And if I were in your situation, I would probably take my life.”
She snorted with amusement. “Thank you for that, I guess.”
“I would never bar a wife from pursuing anything she wished, such as she was able within the damned confines of society.” I said.
“I thought that might be a possibility,” she said with a small smile. “And that is why I sought you out.”
She studied the surf, her arms tightly crossed. “Since I must marry, I, like you, would rather it be someone of my choosing.”
“I will need an heir, and then I care not what else you do. I would have you be happy. And even if we are not to marry, I would have you be happy.”
She nodded. “Would you allow me to travel? Can you afford to have the proper nanny and governess? Would we live in that house, or would you build one elsewhere? Will you teach me to fence and shoot?”
I grinned. “Aye, you may travel, by which I assume you mean returning to Christendom. Hell, you can go anywhere you can book passage and be reasonably assured of surviving unharmed. With or without my father, we can afford to have a full complement of servants; you need not care for the child. I will receive a plantation upon the deliverance of an heir, and that is not my only source of funds. I have been granted a plot in town to build a fine house. I will gladly teach you to fence and shoot, and even sail. And Gaston can even instruct you in medicine, if you are so inclined.”
She smiled, and then her gaze flicked between Gaston and myself and she sobered. “I would suppose you would share my bed only as necessary to produce a child.”
“Aye,” I said solemnly. “In my heart, Gaston will always be first, and I will share his bed in my house.”
“I take no issue with that,” she said tightly, but she kept her eyes on the sea.
“Likewise,” I said gently, “if you find someone you love, it need be unrequited only in the manner of marriage.”
She nodded. “I cannot think of what else to ask for.”
“If there is a thing forgotten in this negotiation,” I said, “let us agree to consider it without prejudice in the future, and augment our agreement as necessary.”
She chuckled. “Then I will accept your offer of marriage.”
“I am honored.”
Despite our fine words, she appeared as uneasy as I felt. I supposed it was to be expected. We were not simple people, and therefore we did not lead simple lives. The Gods knew nothing we did would ever be easy.
Thirty-Two
Wherein We Gaze Upon Trouble
We walked another mile up the beach. During that time, we determined that I should speak to Sir Christopher when he returned to town the day after next. Tomorrow, we would see to matters with Agnes
’ father. The gangly girl was greatly enthused that she would be sharing a house with Christine. Oddly, this seemed to annoy her friend.
At last we found a suitable place, and bade the girls sit and watch. I settled into en garde with relief. Thankfully, the girls held their applause and comments, and thus I was able to forget they were there. For the next hour or so, there was only my matelot, steel, and sand. It was joyous.
When we had enough, I toppled Gaston to the sand for a lengthy kiss. He enjoyed it, and was beginning to tug at my tunic when his eyes shot wide.
“The girls,” he hissed.
“Oh bloody Hell.”
I hoped they would not insist on tagging along every day we remained in port.
Agnes clapped enthusiastically as we approached. Animated so, she was even gawkier than she was while timid. I wondered if she would grow out of it someday.
Christine watched us with a somber mien.
“Physical exertion is a balm for the soul,” I told her. “Did you observe anything, or have you been mired in thought?”
She gave a guilty shake of her head. “Somewhat mired, I fear. And I have seen men spar before, and you both seem to be excellent at it, but there is so much movement I become lost. I know there are positions and movements…”
“And you shall learn the basic ones today.”
She stood eagerly. I handed her my rapier, and she promptly frowned at the weight. I suppressed a sigh. She could not run a league; she surely could not fence for any duration.
I began to take her through the various stances, but by the second it was obvious she could not maintain form with the weight of the rapier. She could not hold it at arm’s length. Gaston had perceived the problem as well, and handed her a dagger.
“Come now, I wish to learn the sword,” she protested.
“If you can learn with a dagger, you will do well with a sword,” I assured her. “But Lady, you see you cannot practice with a sword. If you truly wish to fence, your first order of business will be strengthening yourself.”
“We will go over calisthenics after this,” Gaston added.
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