Before they could enter the bank, they were stopped again by a gentleman and his wife.
“Excuse me, my wife is too shy to ask, but she’s very upset about your story characters. Go on, darling, ask her why she did that.”
The timid woman opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Go on, tell them how you haven’t been eating and have been weeping because the lady ran off with the pirate instead of the prince. Go on.”
“I—I can’t even speak of it.” She put a bony hand over her mouth.
“I tell you, you are making my life quite miserable, Miss Pottifer,” the man said gruffly.
“Now you listen here, mister,” Mary began, pointing an accusing finger at him. “I’m sorry your wife is weak and frail, but it is not Miss Pottifer’s fault. How dare you!”
“Mary, calm down!” Liz grabbed Mary’s non-accusatory arm and began to pull her into the bank.
“How dare you stop us on the street. How dare you pretend like being distraught over a story is worthy of harassing women in the street!”
Mary calmed as soon as they entered the bank. She smoothed her dress and smiled triumphantly at Liz, who was rather used to Mary’s ways. Peter, who was behind the counter counting bills, nodded with a smile when he saw his bride’s lovely face. He had been beaming since he found out about the baby.
After entering the tearoom, they sat down and waited for the waiter to bring them their usual tea and cake with a bowl of cream and whatever fresh fruit there was. Today it was juicy June strawberries.
Michael and another young man entered the bank just as Mary and Liz’s tea tray was being set.
“Mary, it’s Michael.”
Michael looked at Peter and then noticed the girls. He smiled and waved as well as threw in some sign language for Liz.
“Oh, hello. Busy, can’t join you.”
Liz frowned.
“What did he say?” Mary asked, her sign language skills still very basic.
“He said he’s too busy to join us,” Liz said, knowing Mary was about to be very cross considering their previous conversation about their husbands’ late nights.
“What?” Mary said as she rose out of her chair and went to Michael, who met her halfway. The man he came in with went up to Peter and began to have a private conversation with him at the counter.
“Sorry, I have to get back to work. I just came in to talk to Peter for a moment.” He kissed her cheek and left her standing alone as he went to the window and waited behind the other man.
Mary returned to Liz and sat down.
“Who is that man he came in with?”
“I’ve not a clue. Never seen him before.”
“Do you think they are drinking together?” Liz asked with an air of conspiracy to her tone.
“Does Peter drink? I’ve never seen Michael drink.” Mary frowned.
“Of course, you haven’t. That is the sort of thing you hide from your wife and don’t talk to your sister about.”
Mary pouted. Liz pouted. They both felt uneasy.
The man Peter and Michael were speaking with nodded at both gentlemen and left the bank. Michael said something to Peter and threw an “I love you sign” at Mary and a “see you, sis” at Liz as he left the bank also. Peter went back to counting bills.
“I think we need to reopen our detective agency.” Mary scowled.
“What?” Liz frowned.
“Remember when I made you investigate who Penelope Pottifer was with me? We should investigate this man. He’s probably the reason we haven’t seen our husbands for so long.”
“Oh, Mary, I’d really rather not. Your idea of excitement always turns up secrets that would be better left exposed naturally.”
“This is true. But it is our husbands we are talking about, Liz. We have a right to know what they are up to.”
“I don’t suppose you have any time. What, with that large hat order you have waiting for you at home.”
“Bandits! I don’t have any time!”
“Language!”
“Sorry. I am upset. I swear when I am upset.”
“I know. I forgive you. Just not in public. I have enough scandal circulating with my name on it.”
“I did warn you people would not like it if you didn’t have John and Lavender get married.”
“Would everyone just trust me? Have you not always enjoyed the story before? Telling a good story takes time. You cannot just say they met, they kissed, they got married.”
“All right, calm down. I trust you. Just don’t kill John.”
“I don’t promise anything.”
“Liz! You cannot kill John. Sarah will die. You will have a mob.”
“Fine. I won’t kill John.”
“Good.”
“Let’s go. I’ve got a million things to do, and taking a nap is at the top of my list.”
Liz rose early the next morning. She tried to put on her favorite house dress, but the skirt was too tight due to her inability to lace her corset tightly. It hurt if she pulled on the laces at all, and that made her moody. She would have to go without or buy a specially made corset for pregnant women.
After an hour of writing and an hour of cleaning and an hour of taking an early morning nap, Liz was awoken by a knock and then the sound of someone entering her front door.
“Liz! Where are you? You aren’t still sleeping, are you?”
“I’m up here!” Liz called down, without even bothering to get up and greet her guest.
“You won’t believe the rubbish your brother was spewing last night!”
Mary stomped up the stairs. She stopped as she entered the doorway to Liz’s bedroom, where she found her lying on the bed, hair a mess and apron still on. “You poor thing. You look exhausted. You are doing too much, Liz!”
“I’m fine.” Liz grunted as she sat up and smoothed her hair, which was hopeless. “It’s just this corset is tight and making me so uncomfortable, and I just can’t seem to string a sentence together. My mind is tired!”
“You need to cut something out. You write too much. You spend all morning, all afternoon, all evening writing away.”
“What am I to do? Enduring Promises comes out two times a week, and they’ve extended each volume to twice what it used to be. Maybe I should ask Mr. Dixon to cut it back to once a week.”
“Oh dear, your readers will mob.”
“Stop saying that! You have no faith in my readers. I don’t know what to do. This is so hard, Mary.” Liz began to sob.
“Oh, Liz,” Mary soothed as she put her arm around Liz’s shoulders. “You will be fine. No one is pregnant forever. Except Mrs. Hayes. She was pregnant for a year. Well, it was eleven and a half months, but that’s a year, really. That child she has was not right. Have you seen her? She looks like she’s got murder on the mind.”
“Mary, this is not helping. I am scared I will not be able to do it all. How can I keep up with my house chores, my husband, and my writing, all with a baby? It’s not possible.” Liz continued to sob.
“Liz, I will help you. Peter will help you. Everyone will help you!”
“Peter? Peter! You mean my husband that I haven’t even seen in weeks for more than a moment? He leaves before I wake, he comes home after dark. He goes straight to bed. I don’t have a husband!”
After sitting quietly for a moment Mary said, “Michael has been doing the very same thing. We must get to the bottom of this. This will not do. You need your husband, and I am very cross with Michael. He told me he was working late, and when I asked what he was doing, he said, “Duh—duh, working, Mary. What do you think?””
“He spoke to you that way?” Liz said between sobs.
“Yes! I couldn’t believe it. Since when is his job a secret? And you know what else? Sometimes he pretends he can’t hear me.”
Liz snapped her fingers. “Yes! He does do that. He’s like, ‘Duh, duh, I’m not going to look at her even though I know she is there so that I don’t have to see what she is saying.’”
“Yes! He does it in bed too. He’ll roll over and I’ll shake him, and he pretends to be asleep, when I know he couldn’t possibly have fallen asleep that fast!”
“Well, he could, actually. I have seen it.”
“Have you? Or was he just ignoring you?”
“Now that you mention it—he was probably ignoring me,” Liz said, her sobbing subsided.
“My dear Liz. I will help you with your baby. And I will get to the bottom of whatever it is our husbands are doing. You stay home today. Rest. Don’t clean anymore. Your mother can help you with that tomorrow.”
“I’m sure she will appreciate you volunteering her to be my maid,” Liz said chuckling.
“Nonsense. She raised five children. Your house is nothing compared to the cleaning she used to do. Now, rest. I’m going to do some investigating.”
“Mary, take my manuscript to the Gazette, please. I’m late on my deadline, and I don’t think I can leave the house for some time with the state I’m in.”
“Only if I can read it first.” Mary smiled.
“Of course. Just don’t go divulging it to Gladys. She will tell everyone and ruin it.”
“Yes, yes. You can trust me,” Mary said as she clopped back down the stairs.
A stout old man with ruddy cheeks and drab clothing shifted a heavy barrel. He was after the good stuff behind the apple barrel. He wanted the barrel of finely fermented dill pickles the crew had stolen from the Americans off the coast of Louisiana. As he pushed the apple barrel to the side, he grabbed hold of the pickle barrel lid and pried it off. But instead of his savory, pungent pickles, he came face to face with blinking eyes.
“A stowaway! Whatcha doing in there, you scallywag?” Bordeaux, the captain’s second in command, bellowed as he pulled the old man up by the collar and in the process knocked over the barrel. The old man grunted and crawled carefully out of the barrel.
“I don’t mean no harm! I just wanted to be a pirate is all! But I got scared so I hid.” The old man cowered and shook at the feet of the first mate. “I saw you in all your rugged and deplorable-ness, and I was feared,” he said, hands in surrender over his head.
“Deplorable-ness? What’s that mean?”
“It’s a compliment, like. You are the fiercest pirates I ever hear tell of! You are deplorable and mean.”
“Really? That is a compliment,” Bordeaux said thoughtfully, hoisting up his shabby pants. “Now up with you. Because you are a sweet ol one, I’ll not be throwing you overboard for stowin’ away. However, I’m going to have to put yer to work! Yer hear?”
“Yes, thank you, sir! You are kind and indecent.”
“Yer better keep that sweetness between us. The other men will find it a weakness. Now off with yer. I’ll have to explain yer are new to the crew.” Bordeaux took the old man by the crook of his arm and led him out of the pantry and up to the deck.
Morose and Lavender stared deeply into each other’s eyes. The soft candlelight flickered on her deep green eyes. Morose smiled, and Lavender smiled back. Morose leaned across the table and put down a gold banded ring with a diamond the size of a walnut set atop it. Lavender smiled even more broadly as she picked up the ring and admired it and turned it in her hand. Then she set it back down on the table.
“Don’t yer like it?”
“Oh, I like it very much.”
“Well then, what do yer say?”
“I say you are bluffing.” She placed her cards on the table. She had a royal flush.
“What? Yer cheated?!” Morose said aghast, throwing down his two kings and a pair of sevens.
“Yes . . . just like you taught me.”
Morose pulled all the winnings across the table toward himself. “I’m very proud of yer, me girl.”
“Really?” Lavender beamed.
“Yes, of course. I didn’t expect yer to pick up on it so quickly.”
“Morose, are you upset?”
“No, me girl, why would I be upset? It be an exciting day for yer . . . yer first booty . . . yer going to love it.”
“I can’t wait! I can’t wait to be a pirate!” she yelled.
“Me love, please, the boys be sleeping.” Morose gently placed his finger over his lips. “Sorry, me love.”
Lavender winked with a sheepish grin.
“Yer sounding like a pirate too. Yer know it would be dandy if yer sounded like yer . . . what I mean is yer don’t have to change all about yer for me.”
“Oh, yes I do. I want to be the best pirate. Won’t that make you happy?” Lavender got up and quickly went to sit on Morose’s lap. She looked him in the eyes, lip pouted.
“Me love, yer make me happy just to be yer. Yer all I ever loved, just the way yer be.”
“I’ll be whoever you want me to be. If it’s her you want, then I will be her!”
“Her? You mean yer?”
“No, her. Her before me.”
“What’ch yer mean before her? Are not her, yer?”
“I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Because I love you more than anything.”
Morose smiled weakly and stood from the card table, putting Lavender lovingly down. He kissed Lavender on the head. “Get some shuteye, me love.”
Lavender smiled at him and promptly went to bed. Morose left her room and went to the deck. He walked the deck a few times and noticed a new face.
“Who be yer?”
“I’m Peegee, sir.” The old man bowed.
“Aren’t no need for bowing, Peegee. Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you kindly, Captain.” Peegee awkwardly saluted.
“Aren’t no saluting either. A simple ‘aye, Captain’ will be nuff.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Peegee said and bowed his head. “Best gets to cleaning this here floor, Captain.”
“Floor? Yer no sailor. Who picked you up? Bordeaux? Softest heart I ’er seen that man.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Always picking up stray dogs.”
“Aye, Captain.” Peegee nodded and then continued mopping the deck.
“Peegee, yer a man of great age. What yer make of women?”
“They are real finicky, Captain.”
“Aye. Yer ever seen a woman want to do what er’ yer want her to?”
“No! Sorry, Captain. That I have never seen.”
“Aye . . . me either.”
“Actually, Captain . . . I saw it once. Woman wanted something real bad from the man.”
“Aye, what she want from him?”
“His money.”
“What if she got her own money? What you suppose she want then?”
“More money?” Peegee shrugged. “Or maybe you got yourself a perfect woman?”
“Maybe.” Morose came very close to Peegee and asked quietly, “What be yer name again?”
Peegee straightened up and gulped hard. “Peegee, Captain.”
“Peegee, not a soul will hear of this here words.” Morose gently grabbed Peegee’s shirt collar.
“Aye, Captain. Ol’ Peegee won’t tell a soul.”
Morose let go of his collar and patted his chest several times.
“Aye.” He strode off to his cabin and began a very sleepless night.
The next morning Lavender was preparing for her first piracy excursion. She donned a pistol on each hip and her sword across her back. She tied her hair in a tight bun atop her head and wore a short calf-length skirt with tall boots.
She walked the deck proudly, knowing she was Morose’s girl. A familiar face caught her eye. She started toward the face when Morose called to her from behind.
&
nbsp; “Ah, me love. Yer prepared to kidnap Lady Coberg?”
Lavender squealed. “I can’t wait! Do you think we will have to kill anyone today?”
“Do yer wantin’ to kill someone today?” Morose asked skeptically, bracing Lavender by the shoulders. He looked into her eyes. Today they shone brightly with the innocence of a child but the menacing of a pirate.
“I don’t know. Do you want me to?”
“No, me love, I don’t be needing yer to kill today. I’ve got me many men who already be burning in hell that can do that.”
Lavender smiled. Morose gave her a half-smile back. The truth was, she was scaring him a little. She was usually very logical and resourceful. She wouldn’t think to purposefully kill a person. She was highly moral and conscientious. Now she was only concerned with what he wanted her to do. Her perception of him also pierced him deeply. After all they had been through together, she thought he was a bloodthirsty, moralless pirate. Perhaps it’s a trick, he thought. Perhaps she isn’t really in love with me, and this is all some ploy to get me somehow. No. He shook his head. That is something you would do, Morose. Lavender doesn’t play those games. She must truly love you. Just like she said it would work.
“He won’t follow us. I’ll kill him if he tries,” Lavender said as she laid her head on Morose’s shoulder, shaking him from his inner discourse.
“Who? Johnny boy? Not what I worry ’bout.” Again, she was being murderous and scary. This behavior was unlike Lavender. “I worry only about yer safety. Perhaps we should cancel this excursion today.”
“Oh,” Lavender moaned, “I was so looking forward to it, but if it’s what you want, it’s what I want.”
Morose looked in Lavy’s eyes. She dreamily stared back at him. “No, we be carrying on!” He shouted to his second mate, Bordeaux. “Cut the sails, men. We go then!”
“Yarr!” The men bellowed and jumped about barking orders and urging the Lily onward.
Morose kissed Lavender on the head and bid her to stay and look after the men as he went to his quarters. Alone.
A bang echoed through his head, causing it to ache. “What be the matter?” Morose barked.
“My love, it’s time. Coberg Island is within sight!” Lavender yelled through the door.
Unbroken Promises of the Heart: (Promises of the Heart Book 2) Page 5