Their victory was fleeting. Suddenly, Sandra was thrown across her cabin like a rag doll. Landing on her hands and knees. The wood panelling of the hull splintered. Maxwell’s frigate was struck by a significantly larger ship. Men shouted from below deck. Already on her hands and knees from being rammed, Sandra pressed her ear to the floor.
“Christ! She’s takin’ on wa’er.” Joker jumped back.
“Someone get the Cap’ain!” Sheldon shouted.
“Get the animals above deck ‘efore she fills up!” Shepard commanded.
The brunette wished to help, but the doors stood firm despite persistent battering from her boots, bruised shoulders and fists. Only one person would do such a thing.
“MAXWELL!”
Once her head stopped spinning, she gritted her teeth, shaking with anger. Some small part of her was grateful. She had never had to defend herself with a pistol or sword. As for the ramming? Either a naval officer wrongly assumed this unnamed vessel belonged to pirates or the aggressor was a pirate ship in disguise, hoping to secure loot from unsuspecting merchants. Whatever the case, Sandra hoped for it to be over with minimal casualties. Was this the bad luck that Maxwell tried to warn her about?
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“I’ll break the lines! Hodari. Point ‘er for the rocks. The Duchess won’t follow. She’s too big.”
“Neither will we Cap’ain. Not in ‘his state.”
The trapped ex-maid heard the unmistakable drawing of a sword from a scabbard.
“Says who, Hodari?” Maxwell boasted, his footsteps fading as he marched away.156Please respect copyright.PENANAmGp1PQaza8
Hodari must have listened. Sandra was jolted off her feet for the second time since she woke up. As the ship turned, it listed precariously to the port side. She felt as if it was tipping over.
“For goodness sake! You men are too rough and dramatic, ALL the time. It’s enough to make a lesser woman resort to fainting. Of which I am not.”
Sandra rubbed at her elbows. Disgruntled from being thrown about. The crew cheered. The trapped brunette was in the process of throwing on male clothes as Maxwell unlocked the door. A key glinted around his neck – rugged and ready to please a woman. Her heart exploded.
“God damn you!”
She rushed at him, pummeling his chest with her fists. He wasted no time prancing out of her reach.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“Better? You imbecile! You nitwit! You…you…What if you died? I would have been locked in this cabin until the end of days. What if this ship sunk to the bottom of the ocean? I would perish!”
“First of all, you looked unwell yesterday. I thought it best if you kept your privacy. At least until you are…better adjusted. You are a lady. It would be most heinous if-”
“If you know what’s good for you, you will bite your tongue and NOT finish that sentence, Maxwell. I am not a garden rose. I do not need your protection.” Sandra folded her arms to compliment her stern tone.
“Pardon me, Miss Swift. Allow me to rephrase. I did not want you to bear witness to such violence.” He laughed. He sounded sincere.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You will make a fine mother someday. You are already fearsome without a child. Lord help anyone who lays a finger on you, your lover or your children.”
“Your tongue is too sharp for your own good, Mister Bayne. Do not insult me with those platitudes. I have heard them all before. I am not an air-headed dame. Your charming act is wasted on me.”
If I were Myrtle this would be a lie. However, I have the self-respect and discipline to resist falling in line like rats behind a piper.
“Who said this was an act?” Maxwell caught her chin betwixt his bare fingers. He lost one of his gloves in the skirmish. He titled Sandra’s chin, leaning in as if he wanted to steal a kiss.
“There is no woman alive who can resist her desires. Especially around me. You are no different.” He whispered.
Sandra gnawed her bottom lip, fidgeting uncomfortably. Folding her hands to avoid picking at her fingers. His crew navigated the rigging like spiders now that Maxwell’s crew (and herself) were hidden in a large cave in the sheer cliff-face.
“I beg your pardon?”
“We are both actors by conditioning and circumstance, not by choice. I am no betting man, but I wager you were very different as a child?” He paused, waiting for the brunette to either slap his hands away or reciprocate his advances. The silence was deafening.
“Aren’t we all different before our innocence is lost? Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mister Bayne, I have animals to tend to. Your crew has stupidly turned said animals loose on the deck.”
The deck was already sounding (and smelling) like a farm.
Maxwell picked at his cravat, barking at Hodari to follow Sandra. Sandra marched to the kitchen, rummaging for a bag of grains. The rushing of water through the destroyed lumber was too close for comfort. Sandra and the crew were not out of the woods yet. She did not want to know how close they brushed with death. Maxwell withdrew an eyeglass from his dark blue coat. After looking into it for a moment, he bellowed to his crew, directing them to a small patch of dry sand in the cave where the ship could be docked for repairs.
It would have been mesmerising to watch if the ex maid was not distracted tempting goats, chickens, donkeys, pigs and sheep with a hessian bag of grains. Calming the animals with her voice and ample petting. The brunette restrained each animal with makeshift tethers, cages or any combination of the two. Hodari watched her like a statue. The brunette wanted to ask why he was so loyal to Maxwell, but this was not the proper time nor the proper place.
Animal husbandry is not my forte. I am a maid. Not a farmer’s wife. The only animals I have had good experiences with, in the past, are seahorses and sea dragons. Another trait that runs in my family. Perhaps, if I were a farmer’s wife, I would not be in this predicament?
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