Читать книгу To Slight the Jacket Blue - Bronwyn Sciance - Страница 13

It was difficult to imagine anyone who looked more like the perfect man to hunt pirates than Captain Robert Thomas of the Humility. He was a tall man at six feet, broad-shouldered and muscular; indeed, only one man in his command could be said to be larger than he. He possessed a square chin and a strong jaw, hidden under a thick beard. Both beard and hair were yellow as butter, slightly wavy, and surrounding clear brown eyes–an advantage for a sailor, as he had excellent night vision.

Forty years old, he had been aboard one ship or another since he was twelve years old. He was an experienced seaman, had served on pirate-hunters in his youth, and most importantly he was calm and reliable. The Humility was his own ship, purchased with his portion of the last prize he had brought in while serving as lieutenant to a privateer, and for ten years he had been a respectable merchantman. It puzzled him how Clarence Wickham had learned he had once hunted pirates, but he supposed it was no real secret.

"Captain?"

Captain Thomas turned to regard his boatswain, who happened to be his best friend. The two had been boys together on the docks of Bristol and had gone to sea at the same time. He smiled. "Come on, Michael, you know nobody else is around. How goes it?"

Michael Johnson smiled. "It goes well, Rob. I read out the details of the mission, and not a man of them opted out."

"The men are all aboard, then?" Captain Thomas inquired.

"Not quite all, Captain."

Captain Thomas turned in surprise, as did his boatswain, to behold Clarence Wickham's daughter Jane bearing down on them, a look of determination in her eyes. Without knowing anything about why she was coming, Captain Thomas knew that no matter how much he argued, he was going to lose.

"Why, Miss Wickham, how pleasant to see you," he said with a formal bow. He would have taken her hand if he had thought for a moment she would extend it. "Have you come to see the ship off?"

"No, not precisely," Jane said firmly, her tone brooking no argument. "I will be accompanying you. Please instruct me as to what my duties will be."

If Jane had announced her intentions to fly through the air like a bird speaking in the ancient Greek tongue, Captain Thomas could not have been more astonished. Clarence Wickham was a man of title, a man of prestige, and would hardly allow his daughter to go gallivanting off to sea with common sailors, especially the mixed bag aboard the Humility. "Come with us?" he repeated, rather stupidly. "But Miss Wickham, my ship is hardly suitable..."

"I do not come as a woman or a passenger, Captain," Jane interrupted. "I will dress as a man, and work like one, too. I wish to help rescue my intended."

Captain Thomas and Michael exchanged looks. After forty years they knew each other well, and he could tell his friend was, like him, struggling with the image of this flower of womanhood in the shirt and trousers of a common tar. Michael coughed, mumbled excuses about preparing the cargo, and extracted himself from the discussion.

The captain shook his head. "Miss Wickham, even should I accept your service, even if you do come, what do you expect to do to save Commander Sharpe?"

Jane set her chin in a way that Captain Thomas recognized. His wife wore a similar expression when she told him what to do. It was no less threatening on a girl of fifteen than on a woman of thirty-six. "Captain Thomas, I have lived my entire life around ships. I may not have ever done the work, but I know how it is done, and I'm quite strong–I can do it. My father gave me an education equal to that of a man, and my dancing instructor also gave me fencing lessons. I will work as hard and as well as any of your men."

Captain Thomas hesitated. On the one hand, he knew it was useless to resist a woman determined. On the other hand..."Miss Wickham," he said finally, "I am captain and owner of the Humility, and as such I have the final say in who does and does not board my vessel. You will not board, and that is my last word on the matter." He bowed, turned on his heel, and headed up the gangplank of the ship.

"Is she gone?" asked Michael, coming over to his captain.

Captain Thomas smiled ruefully. "I hope so. Come on, let's get this vessel shipshape."

It didn't take long; most of the work had been done while Captain Thomas was still on the shore arguing with Jane. At last, he gave the order: "Lines away!"

The mooring lines were cast off, the sails caught the breeze, and the ship began pulling away from the dock. Captain Thomas was looking out to sea when one of the sailors tapped his arm. "Sir...isn't that Mr. Wickham back there?"

Captain Thomas turned to see his patron running down the dock, waving his arms in a most undignified fashion and shouting. The captain couldn't catch his words over the general noise of the quay and strained to hear, but to no avail. Shrugging, he turned his focus to getting the ship out of the harbor mouth.

It was getting on towards evening when the captain, who was charting a course by what remained of the sun, heard one of his sailors, the big burly Scot, give a shout of alarm–that was echoed by a far younger, higher cry. Captain Thomas rushed towards the sound to find his boatswain, holding Jane Wickham by the collar.

"Unhand me, if you please," she protested, obviously trying to salvage some shred of her dignity.

Captain Thomas was almost speechless with rage. Finally, he managed, "What–?"

Jane squared her shoulders. "I told you I would be accompanying you on your journey, Captain."

"Miss Wickham, I've no use for a sailor who can't obey orders," Captain Thomas said sternly. "So far you've not proven to me that you will do so. I ordered you to remain, and so, if I am not mistaken, did your father."

Jane looked abashed. "In truth, I'd not thought of that. I assure you, however, I can obey orders–I'm rather good at it. Order me to do what you will, and I will do it."

Captain Thomas was suddenly of a mind to keep her aboard, but he decided to set a test for her. "Then I order you to put about in the jolly boat and return to Portsmouth forthwith."

Jane bowed with the dignity of any cabin boy. Without another word, she turned and headed for the jolly boat, then prepared to swing herself into the seat.

Michael, who knew him well, glanced at Captain Thomas. "Not a question, not a complaint. I could use her in the rigging, Cap'n."

Captain Thomas threw his friend a quick smile, then turned to Jane. "Miss Wickham!"

Jane stopped, wheeled about, and saluted. "Captain!" she shouted crisply.

Captain Thomas kept his face impassive for a moment, then grinned. "Go with Mr. Johnson and Duncan here to receive your kit, then we will commence your duties."

The smile on Jane's face was like the sun coming out, and the captain knew he had done the right thing, even as the girl saluted. "Aye, aye, Cap'n!"

Captain Thomas smiled as the trio walked off. He knew now why Clarence Wickham had been tearing down the quay, but it was too late to turn back even if he wanted to. Jane was gone on the Humility, and only time and victory would bring her back now.