Matelots

by W. A. Hoffman

  “None of them mentioned your potential nuptials, so I did not either,” he said.

  I watched Theodore carefully. Other than an anxious glance at Gaston’s head on my shoulder, he was ignoring my matelot and talking only to me. I judged he did not realize Gaston was awake.

  I sighed. “I have not told them, yet. I…”

  Theodore shook his head. “No need to explain, they are buccaneers, they will likely consider it treachery against your matelot.”

  I grinned. “Pete will.”

  He sobered. “I, however, would like to know if that matter had a thing to do with Gaston’s loss of control.”

  “Aye and nay,” I answered

  Gaston squeezed my fingers.

  I shook my head. “Aye, it did… have much to do with it, such that the wedding will not occur. I am sorry, but…”

  “I understand,” he said with a dismissive wave. “I know you will surrender your title for him. I hold no judgment over that. And with all you have said tonight concerning his madness… I see where… My Lord, Will, however will you… survive?”

  His words caught my breath. Gaston’s fingers did not move.

  I chuckled. “I wonder that myself. I hope, in time, I can help him. He truly wanted this. He tried very hard. He puts great store in my title. He puts store in children, which I do not. He was truly not opposed to my marrying. But, Miss Vines is… quite the opponent, and it... tore at the fabric of our partnership.”

  “What will you do when the bride your father will send arrives?” he asked.

  I shrugged such as I was able. “I will not know until we meet her.”

  “So there is still the possibility that you will proceed with what must be done to inherit?”

  “Aye.”

  Theodore considered that with a grave frown. “I am both relieved and concerned. I would ask you this: Is it possible he will pose a threat to any bride?”

  I had not considered that. I was not sure if Gaston had, either, but the mention of it caused him to start ever so slightly. Thankfully, Theodore was intent upon my reaction alone.

  “I do not know,” I said soberly.

  Theodore lowered his voice, though I knew not who else would hear. “Will, the Brethren are by necessity tolerant of all manner of things, and resolve matters among themselves. It appears that you have already dealt with that once, and now you will have to dispel this issue of the French gossip in some fashion. English law is not so tolerant. Gaston has been protected from much of the effects of his madness by living exclusively among the Brethren. Now, with you, he hangs between two sets of laws. If he harms someone other than a buccaneer, your father’s name will not protect him, and he no longer has his father’s title either. He is a commoner, and will be treated as such by the law.”

  I was stunned. Gaston had often harmed someone while mad, but unless it was the Spanish, it had always been a member of the Brethren and always because he was provoked, and it had never caused a death. But Theodore was correct: all of that would be perceived very differently if Gaston attacked a planter or, far more likely, any bride I took.

  For his part, my matelot was rubbing my fingers in a frantic manner.

  “Thank you,” I said seriously. “I had not thought of any of that. Now I shall have night terrors.” I smiled weakly.

  Theodore smiled sadly and patted my shoulder. “I do not know what advice to give you, other than it is probably safest if you rove, provided the buccaneers don’t maroon you someplace.”

  I nodded. “We have thought much the same, but not for that reason.”

  “Rest now, and heal,” he admonished.

  “I will try. I feel I will spend some goodly time composing what I will say to Miss Vines and Sir Christopher.”

  He sighed heavily. “Perhaps we can concoct some plausible excuse for your change of heart that will not make them your enemies.”

  I smiled. “The truth would probably leave them relieved.”

  Theodore chuckled.

  “Sleep,” he said, and left us.

  Gaston moved as soon as the door closed. He rose above me, and supported himself on one arm, so that I need not strain to see him. He appeared to be himself, and I found myself gazing into a pair of calm but intense emerald eyes.

  “I would not harm any bride of yours,” he said quickly.

  I was thankful my right eye was injured and not my left, as my left eyebrow is always the one I raise in query. I did so now.

  He shook his head regretfully. “You are correct. I can guarantee nothing.”

  I smiled. “Non, I feel you cannot at this juncture, but I trust you still, and I do not wish to dwell on that now. Were you awake through the entirety of it?”

  “I began to wake when you slapped me.”

  “I was afraid you had taken far too much laudanum. We have apparently not moved all day. Are you angry with me over anything I said or… revealed?” I asked cautiously.

  He shook his head and smiled. “Non. You were quite… adroit in interpreting my signals and answering so that you said all that was needed and little else. And they are our friends; they need to know.” Then he gave me a mock-angry glare and his hand went playfully about my throat. “And how can you worry over my feelings on the matter after all I have done? I swear, there are times I would strangle you.”

  With alarm, I recalled the last time he had gone for my neck. I kept my tone amused. “This morning was apparently nearly one of them.”

  His hand was quickly away, and his pretense at anger replaced by sincere guilt.

  “There are times I could strangle you,” I said gently. “And this morning was one of them.”

  “You should have.” He smiled sadly. “You were very angry. You surprised me. I am proud of you. I thought we would fight.”

  I shook my head. “If you had not said what you did to make me angry… my Horse was truly intent on running off the cliff and convincing me the fall would not be so very bad. So I would say, never ever say that to me again, but in this case, it served an unplanned purpose.”

  “What exactly can I not say?” he asked sincerely.

  “That I want it,” I said calmly.

  He frowned. “I am not to tell you that you want it?”

  I shook my head somberly. “Not in that situation, non. It is a thing Shane said. He would admonish me with it to stifle my protests while he took me. And it was a thing Alonso even said on occasion. He was kinder, in that he would use the phrase to cajole me.”

  “I feel you have told me that before,” Gaston said sadly.

  “I may have, I do not remember. You were very odd this morning.” I snorted at the absurdity of my statement. “Of course you were, but I mean, you were… I do not know if your intent was to hurt me, so much as it was to take what you wanted, and you knew I wanted. And then you said that, which if I have told you that, was a very cruel thing to say. I am torn as to whether or not you were truly trying to drive me away.”

  He looked away and his voice was thick. “I was testing you. I cannot believe you love me so.”

  I understood; and though it stirred the embers of a deep anger, they did not kindle. “Ah, you said something similar in the aftermath. That if I truly love you, then…”

  “I am worthy of it, and that must change my perspective on all else done to me.” He shook his head guiltily. “I look upon you now, and I do not feel very worthy of love.”

  His gaze was on my swollen eye.

  I smiled weakly. “Do I look as I feel?”

  “Do you feel as if you were trampled by a bull?” He smiled with guilt.

  “Oui, I do.” I chuckled. My ribs complained, and I grimaced.

  “Do not make me laugh, you bastard.” I grinned.

  He closed his eyes with pain. “I am sorry, Will. I cause nothing but trouble.”

  I remembered making a similar statement, and his response. “Tell me of it, I married you.”

  He looked hurt.

  This amused me even more. �
�Non, my love, I will not gainsay you on it. You require far more effort than any other thing I have ever attempted.”

  He caressed my undamaged cheek. “I am trying very hard.”

  “I know,” I said kindly. “And I love you for it even more.”

  He nodded. “What will we do, now that I have a made a mockery of our plans and no one wishes to sail with me?”

  “That is not true.”

  He sighed. “You are correct. We have true friends. I do not feel I am worthy of them, either.”

  “You must learn to become inured to that, though I am equally unaccustomed to it and grateful for it.” I grinned. “Theodore actually ran to fetch Pete and Striker. I cannot imagine him running.”

  He smiled, but further thoughts of Theodore apparently sobered him. “He is correct. I will hang if I kill someone. It has not been a danger before, because I have been amongst the Brethren.”

  “All right, we will dwell upon it a little. Would you wish to harm Miss Vines while mad?”

  He nodded sadly. “The guilty looks she gave me after you kissed her raised my hackles.”

  That was interesting. One missed so much only having one pair of eyes. “You truly feel she wants me, such that she would be jealous of you?” I recalled all that had been said to the best of my ability and realized I had seen hint of it too. “I feel you are correct.”

  “No matter what potential good the situation might present,” he said, “I feel no good can come of it. I am sorry, as I am the one who put you to it.”

  I shook my head and attempted to shrug again. “Non, non, it was ill-fated all around. I will tell them something, and we will be done with it.”

  He gave a rueful smile. “Perhaps you should tell them the truth. That you have cast your lot with a madman.”

  Sadly, I did not think that would mitigate Sir Christopher’s dislike of me when he learned I had trifled with his daughter. I thought it likely he would be angry that I had a matelot at all.

  “I think it likely Christine will be relieved,” I sighed.

  “I hope she does not hate us.” He shook his head. “And as for the other, I do not know how I will be if the bride arrives.”

  “Please do not take offense, my love, but I think it likely I shall never marry and we shall be forced to steal children from tinkers.”

  He chuckled, and climbed gingerly over me and off the bed.

  “Do you require anything?” he asked as he availed himself of the chamber pot.

  I had to think on it, as the answer was not immediate. I hurt so much that the normal functions of my body were very distant things. “I am thirsty.”

  He fetched a bottle of water and cradled my head so that I could drink. I felt like a babe in his arms. It was comforting.

  “Might I have more laudanum?” I asked when he set the bottle down.

  He prepared a dose in a vial.

  “How does your head feel?” I asked.

  He smiled weakly. “As if I was struck.”

  I smiled as well. “That is probably good.”

  “Sleep now,” he whispered, as I drank.

  “Do not leave me.”

  “I cannot.”

  “Because we are chained together?” I asked sadly.

  He frowned in thought. “Non, I feel it is because we are chained to something else?”

  “What, a rock?” I asked with amusement.

  “Non, a cart.”

  “So we are two centaurs chained to a cart? What is in the cart?”

  “Love,” he said soberly. “I think the cart is our partnership.”

  I tried to envision it as the laudanum took hold: two centaurs, one white, the other black, hauling an ancient two-wheeled cart down a forest path. Our cart was very full. I wondered if that made it heavier.

  I woke to him gently shaking my head and softly calling my name. Despite his gentleness, my head throbbed, and I moaned in protest.

  “I am sorry,” he whispered. “You must wake.”

  “Why?” I moaned.

  Bright light stabbed through my good eye and deep into my skull. I cursed and covered my face with my hands. That only served to make me acutely aware of my other bruises.

  “Sir Christopher is here,” he whispered.

  “Oh no…”

  “I know, Will, I would shoot him to spare you this if it would not cause more trouble. Perhaps I should speak to him. Theodore says he is quite agitated.”

  I sighed. “Damn it all, you shall come with me then.”

  Gaston helped me rise and don a clean tunic. Then we made our slow way downstairs with my arm about his shoulder.

  Sir Christopher Vines was quite perplexed at my appearance. “Good Lord, my Lord, you have been in a bit of a brawl, I daresay. And here I bring bitter news to add to your troubles.”

  I blinked at him in surprise as Gaston helped me into the chair Theodore was proffering. I glanced at Theodore, and received a small shake of his head to indicate he did not know what the man spoke of, either.

  “He is distraught,” Theodore mouthed.

  I could see that. Sir Christopher was a large and heavy man, and dressed as a good English gentleman should, which is to say he would have been warm on an October day in London. Yet a case of high humor and not the heat surely accounted for the copious perspiring he was doing, such that he was constantly mopping his brow with an already-damp kerchief while pacing about.

  “Please, my good man, what is troubling you?” I asked. “I planned to meet with you this day…”

  “I know, I know,” he wailed. “It is all my fault. I had no son. And I loved her mother beyond all good sense. I fear I have spoiled the girl. I have nurtured her headstrong ways.”

  “Sir Christopher, I… find her spirited nature quite endearing,” I said carefully.

  “Truly? Well, you might not now,” he said bitterly.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “She has fled!”

  I was alarmed. “Truly? Where?”

  “I know not. She left me a letter. A letter! Her own father. She says she does not wish to marry, and she is sorry for the trouble she knows this will cause, but she has decided to return to her Aunt’s in Vienna. I am damned, my Lord, if I know how. I inquired about, and no young lady has booked passage. A ship did sail on the evening winds yesterday, but their agent did not book a young lady passage and vowed they never would without her father’s consent. I have men scouring the town for her. And I have sent to all the plantations with which we have acquaintance.”

  I wondered if I should tell him he should be inquiring about a boy with very red legs. I was torn between my concern over the danger she had undertaken, and allowing her to escape, both for my ends and her own. I saw my thoughts mirrored on Gaston’s face.

  “I am quite surprised,” I managed to say.

  Sir Christopher handed me a sealed letter. It was addressed to me.

  “I hope that will shed light on the matter, my Lord,” he said.

  I read her tight script as fast as my aching head would allow. It was as I might have expected. After giving it great and serious thought, she knew she did not wish to marry, even me, even with the offer we presented her. She apologized and wished us well.

  I handed the letter to Gaston.

  Her father was watching me with pleading eyes.

  “I feel I am to blame, Sir Christopher,” I said carefully.

  I could see the threads of the fabric I must weave, but I feared I would be thick-fingered in the execution of the design. I forged ahead anyway.

  “My courtship of your lovely daughter was quite hurried. This is due to my father’s wishing that I marry as soon as possible. To which end, he is sending a bride for me. I am somewhat strong-willed and headstrong too, thus my admiration of those qualities in your daughter. And… I wished to choose my own bride. And I was quite taken with Miss Vines when we met last year. I decided to woo her, such that I could be married to a young lady of my own choosing prior to the arrival of the oth
er. And… well, apparently, she is not ready to wed. And… she wishes to marry for love, as you did, good sir. My hasty courtship did not give time for that to develop before a decision had to be made. And so she has bolted like a skittish filly.”

  I looked back on my handiwork, and thought it a pretty thing: there was surely enough truth woven in to it for it to stand the test of time.

  Thankfully, it seemed to calm him somewhat, and he sat heavily in a chair. He contemplated the floor with a thoughtful expression for a time.

  “I am sorry, sir,” I added. “That… this has led to her leaving you as well. And I pray to God it has not caused her to do anything so rash as to put herself in harm’s way.”

  He dabbed at his eyes with the kerchief. “That is my concern as well.”

  “Well,” I said carefully, “we may take some small comfort in that she is an intelligent and resourceful young lady, and accustomed to travel.”

  He shook his head. “Aye, my Lord, but I almost wish she has taken up with some rake and brought herself to ruin. At least then someone would be there to keep her from harm.”

  “Truly, good sir, I would wish that as well,” I sighed. “And that may well be the case, and the good words she left with us, merely platitudes to assuage us.”

  He studied me. “When I first heard of all of this, and Mister Theodore said you had been in an altercation, I wondered if perhaps you had fought someone over her.”

  I shook my head quickly and regretted it. “Nay, sir, I know no more than I have told you.”

  He nodded. “I am sorry for thinking such a thing. I… well, my Lord, thank you for considering her. I would have been honored to call you son, and not merely because of your title, but because you truly seem to be a gentleman who would have... appreciated my daughter.”

  His words saddened me greatly and I spoke with sincerity. “Aye, sir. And thank you. And I would have been pleased and honored to have you as my father-in-law, as you too seem to be a man who cares more for his kin than for wealth or propriety. I think that truly admirable. And I do truly think you have a fine daughter.”

  “Thank you, my Lord,” he said with a grave nod. “I will leave you, then. I must continue to search.”