Jillian Chantal

This week, the writers of Tuesday Tales are writing to the word prompt Pipe. Mine is still my Regency-set story. AND it is unedited so forgive me that.

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Jane tried to put Johnny out of her mind as she continued working but his constant stare was burning a hole through her clothing. She forces herself not to cast a glance in his direction and avoided the tables near him. Bessie did not seem to mind as the tables surrounding the place where Johnny sat with his friends had more occupants. Jane was sure Bessie was hopeful that those men would give her more coins than she usually received. Jane was not as sure about that.

Eventually, she found herself taking an ale order from an older patron. One she had never seen before.  He smiled at her when she returned with his mug. “I’ve been watching you. You seem to be a hard worker. Do you have a moment to talk to me?”

“Oh no, sir. I am not allowed to sit with the customers.” Unsure of what he might want, she took a step back and assessed him. He was well-dressed. Better than their normal patrons and he had a pipe on the table beside him. The brand of tobacco wafting from the lit bowl smelled like the brand her father used to smoke.

For a moment, she was transported back to better times. But just for a moment as a raucous noise behind her distracted her.

Two men brawled in the corner. As that was nothing new, Jane looked back at the man. “I better get back to work.  I see someone needs a refill.”

“Very well.”

As she turned away, the man said, “I have been searching for a man with a scarred face who wears an eyepatch. I have heard he comes here on occasion. Have you seen him?”

Jane stumbled as she lurched away, hoping the man did not notice. What could he want with her Captain? She did not answer.