Jillian Chantal

Time for Tuesday Tales again. I missed the last couple of weeks due to travel and some drama on the home front. All is well again and so here I am. This week’s word prompt is purple. I am still working on my 1739 pirate story. This scene is when the heroine is caught out in the rain with the hero and he takes her to his brother’s home to get her into some dry clothes.

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“Honey, I don’t know what you’re doing with old Leo Mountbank but you’d be well-advised to keep away from the likes of he.”

“Is he so terrible? After all, he brought me here to get me out of the rain.”

“Shouldn’t been out there with ‘im in the first place.”

“I wasn’t out there with him as you put it. I was looking around the cemetery and the rain come down before he appeared.”

“If I know that devil, he conjured that rain just to try to seduce a comely young lady like yerself.”

By this time, she had taken me into a small room painted white with no adornments other than a massive cross hanging on the wall between two beds. There was a dark mahogany wardrobe that filled up one side of the space. The old woman flung open the doors and pulled out a purple gown. She turned and raked her gaze over my body. “I reckon this one’ll do.”

While she stood there watching me with a never-wavering gaze, I stripped off my sodden clothing and tugged on the proffered garment. It was actually quite comfortable and unlike anything I’d worn before. It had no corset and no boning. Free flowing fabric and being nude underneath made me feel wicked.

“I’ll get this dried and pressed after I serve the tea. I hope the vicar is back from his late rounds by now so I won’t be leavin’ you at the mercy of that brother of his.”

That brother was handsome as the devil himself and if I believed this lady, and I was sorely tempted to as it did seem as if that storm appeared out of nowhere, Leo Mountbank could very well be on the prowl to seduce a young lady. And maybe the old man I saw in the cemetery was some kind of demon summoned by the devil himself.

I was already half-way to seduction what with my so-called rescuer’s compelling presence and now me with nothing on but a thin piece of fabric. He could make short work of his task as things were at the moment.

Hoping she wouldn’t leave me alone with him, yet somehow also hoping she would, I was all a-tingle.

“My stars, you look like you want the man to take your maidenhood. All flush and excited. Even your eyes are sparkling.” The woman shook her head and tutted again. “Not while old Bess is around. No ma’am. Not under the vicar’s roof. I’ve a good mind to lock you in here til yer things are ready for you to go but Mr. Mountbank may tan me old hide if I did that.”

I gasped at her words. Surely not. I’m not naïve and knew what kinds of things went on in this world but I wouldn’t stand by and allow this woman to be hit on my behalf.

She must have sensed my concern as she smiled at me.

“Don’t you worry yer little ole head ‘bout Bess here. I can take care of meself.”

This week we have a picture prompt and we’re each limited to 300 words. I’m still working on my pirate story. The heroine is now on a ship and has been commanded to show what she can do with a flinklock pistol.

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Now that the time had come to prove myself, I got a bit nervous. While it was true Benedict taught me to shoot on ship under full sail, I hadn’t had such a tough audience then. Somehow, I knew it was vital I pass this test.

Glancing up at the flag, I wondered exactly what the wind speed was. We were moving along at a good clip and I needed to factor that into my aim.

“Ye gonna stand there or are ye gonna shoot?” Bruno asked.

“Give her a minute,” Leo said.

“Didn’t think no chit of a girl could do it.” Bruno sounded like a small child who had lost his puppy I was surprised he didn’t have his bottom lip out in a pout.

“If you’ll give this chit a moment to judge the wind, I can promise you at least a passable attempt at the shots.” As the men chuckled again, I stared up at the sky. The clouds were big and white and there was a glint of sunshine breaking through. I took that as a good omen and took my stance.

Pointing the weapon up and a bit to the side, I approximated where I thought the wind might carry the shot and let it go.

In a few seconds, the kid in the crow’s nest called down in excitement, “She got the right eye. Straight in the middle.”

Leo smiled at me and winked.

Still focused on my task, I called out to the boy, “Be ready for the next one.” I worried he might get hurt if I missed. Not that I intended to miss but I really wasn’t as cocky as I wanted these men to believe and I wanted that child safe.

“Ready when you are,” he yelled back down.

We’re back with Tuesday Tales and the word of the week is Mother. My pirate story continues. The hero is talking to a former pirate in this scene trying to help the heroine learn the truth about her parentage.

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Not being sure it was wise to leave Lydia and Cecily alone without being there to defend myself, I reluctantly made my way back down the corridor.

When I arrived at the room where we’d left Nathaniel, he’d found a couple of glasses and a container of rum. “Sit. Come and drink. Even if you brought a silly woman with delusions of being the daughter of a famous pirate with you, it’s good to have you visit.”

I sat and watched as Nate poured for each of us.

“This is some of my own.” He let out a chuckle. “Who would have known back in the old days that I’d one day own my own sugar plantation and would have all the rum I could drink?”

“You sure did well by buying this place.” I looked around “It’s a wonder you had the money to do it.”

“What’s that mean?” The old man’s face turned red and he swallowed his drink in one gulp.

“Just that a lot of us spend the gold as fast as we get it. We all wanted to make it to port after a good haul and spend the coin on women and drink.”

Nathaniel laughed until he almost choked. When he found his voice, he said, “Yes. That’s true. If I’d saved all my money, I could have had more plantations than I can count but one seems to be enough.” He poured himself some more rum.

“After all, there’s only so much a man can drink, right?”

He nodded. “So, how’d you end up with the woman? She’s right pretty but it’s too bad she has no sense. Thinking Vane is her father.” Nathaniel shook his head.

“She seems sure it’s true. I agreed to bring her here to see if you had anything to offer on her quest to determine if she’s been told the truth about her parentage.”

“Bah. No. I don’t think so. Captain Vane was a man’s man and he may have whored around but he didn’t have children.”

“Is there any way to really tell? Surely the man had relations with some women who may not have been doxies. Could it be that some woman—maybe even more than one—found herself in a situation where she couldn’t find the father of her child as he’d set sail again?”

“I imagine anything is possible. It’s that I don’t think that happened to the Captain.”

It was useless to try to make the old man see sense. Of course, it was more than likely that Captain Vane could have left a lady in dire straits. It could happen to any one of them.

“Maybe you’re correct. She indicated to me she’d been told she was his child her whole life.”

“Perhaps her mother didn’t know who sired the girl and the story sounded better if the father was a pirate. You know how some ladies romanticize the men of the sea. It would also explain a missing husband, if you know what I mean.” Nathaniel poured us each some more rum.

I knew exactly what he meant. How many ladies had pretended to a marriage when they found themselves with child? Countless, I was sure.

Today’s Tuesday Tale word is cry. I am still working on my 1739 story and the hero and heroine are on their way to visit an old pirate to question him about the heroine’s putative father. They have been accosted on the road by two pirates.He knows one of them and not the other. He has them tied up after he shot one and she shot the other.

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When Lydia threw herself at me as if she’d scratch my eyes out, at first I was amused. She was as wild as a polecat and that boded well for passion in the bed. Once I realized she was hurt as well as angry, I realized it really wasn’t humorous.  I could see, down deep, something I said had wounded her at soul level.

Having no idea what it was at first, I kept goading her to try to get her to realize I was merely teasing and meant no harm. Then I realized it was making her even angrier. I wished she be like the other ladies and either cry or flirt her way out of the situation. But Miss Lydia Vane was no ordinary girl. The more I was around her, the more I knew that.

I didn’t know how she planned to prove she was related to Charles or even if she needed to. What I did know was she definitely had some wild man’s blood in her veins.

Other than that one moment I could see fear in her smile, she’d been uncowed and even rabid there for a while.

“I’ll make you a proposal, if you’d like,” I said to John and the other pirate. “Just to make the lady happy, of course.”

“And what’s that? You’ll kill is now and not leave us to die a slow death out here?” John asked.

Rubbing my chin as if contemplating it, I said, “That could be the third option.”

“What are the first two?” Lydia asked. She seemed a little more on control of herself. She’d sat up and her breathing had slowed. Alas. She’d been very alluring as her chest rose and fell rapidly.

Forcing myself to look away from her comeliness, I addressed the pirates again. “First choice is to take you both to Nathaniel’s place and call for soldiers to take you away for accosting a couple of travelers.”

The second pirate spat on the ground. “That ain’t no option”

I held up my index finger to stop his whining. “Option two. I let you both go. Untie you and leave you to find your own way back under whatever hole you climbed out of.”

“We’ll take that one,” John said.

Holding up my second finger. “But there’s a caveat to option two.”

“What’s that,” Lydia asked, letting me know she was paying close attention

This lady and I will be coming back this way and if I see you—And I mean even the top of your head—I will kill you on the spot.” I glared from one man to the other. “Understand?”

“We do. You won’t see us,” John said.

“Don’t get wise with me. Don’t think you can hide behind a rock, tree or bush and take a shot at me. If you really think you know who I am, you’ll know that’s a mistake. Underestimating me would be deadly.”