Demons & Pearls (The Razor's Adventures Book 1) (7 page)

“Because I’m not some lady-in-waiting. I won’t ever be one, either, and the only way I’ll ever get on a ship as a sailor is if I’m a man.”

“But, yer not a man—even if’n ye can drink and fight like one. Ye still got the tits and it don’t matter how many men ye killed, neither. Wishin’ yerself a man and a pirate ain’t never gonna make it so.” Townsend barely looked up from his task as he spoke. “Tell her, Watts.”

“I don’t need to be a man to be a good sailor. I just need to look like one. All I need is a chance to prove myself, and I think I’ve already done that.”

“She makes a mighty sound argument, Rip. I mean, all a’ them ladies have done worse than half the men I ever sailed with.”

“Listen ta’ yerself! Have ye lost yer bloody mind? Women on a ship ain’t nothin’ but bad luck, and on land, they ain’t good but fer one thing.” Townsend said, and he flew to his feet. “Now finish yer drinks, and let’s get outta here.”

“I’d say having us aboard was damn good luck for your pockets. Seems to me the only bad luck being handed out is for us.” I stood, turned my glass over, and slammed it onto the table. “We’re through here, and don’t follow me again.”

“Have it yer way, Shepard,” Townsend waved his hand at me as he started off towards the alley. “I don’t care what happens to ye, anyway.”

“I
will
have it my way, Townsend.”

As Townsend walked a few paces ahead, I snagged River by the arm and whispered, “I’m not leaving this stinking sandbar unless it’s my idea. I’ll die before I end up back in America. Oh, and Watts?  Don’t let me catch you sniffing around my cousin again, or I will kill you.”

“Well, Miss Shepard, now ye’ve hurt me heart. I’d never soil the reputation of such a fine lady as Miss Miranda.” Watts walked backwards facing me and placed his hands over his heart. I almost smiled. There was something about River Watts that was growing on me. Either that, or it had been far too long since I’d had that much rum.

Chapter Seven

~Big Red~

With the morning sun came the call to rise, but not for me. I rolled back into bed next to Cass just before daylight and feigned sick to stay there. Cass knew better. Cass always knew better. She could smell it all over me, like always.  But unlike back in Charles Towne, instead of scolding me, she wrapped the light blanket around me and tucked me in tight. I suppose she made excuses for my imaginary illness, since not a soul disturbed me until noon.

“Are you hungry, Ivory?” she asked when she came to check in on me.

“I could eat,” I said as I turned over to face her.

“Dear God, don’t breathe on me, girl, or we’ll both be in bed.” She giggled and rubbed my shoulder.

“Thank you for making excuses for me. I’m feeling better now. I just need a bit of water and food.”

“I was worried when I awoke and realized you were dressed and smelling of rum and alley stench. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Thank you and you know I don’t like you to worry. I just needed a change of scenery. How are you?”

“She’s had us working all morning, but it isn’t so bad. She’s actually tolerable today.”

“Is lunch served yet?” I asked as she helped me to sit and put on my boots.

“Soon. I brought you some fresh water to wash up.”

I nodded and smiled, but I couldn’t deny the pounding in my head every time I moved it. I waved Cass off and told her I’d be downstairs shortly, but before she left the room, she turned and said, “Lady Millie said since you like man’s work, there’s plenty to be done in the yard and wood that needs chopping. Are you up to it?”

Again I waved her off. This time I only nodded with my eyes, as it was too painful to move much else. It was then that Watts’s comments about the Captain shipping us back to America hammered their way into my consciousness, and I called for Cass to come back.

“Are you alright?” Cass asked.

“Has Lady Millie or the Captain mentioned anything about how long we’ll be allowed to stay here?” I asked her.

“Not a word, why?”

“Just something I heard last night. You’re sure they haven’t mentioned anything about us?”

“I don’t know what they discussed behind closed doors…besides their foul grunts and moans, that is.  But no, I have not heard anything.”

“How much money do we have?”

“We, as yet, have twenty pounds and our valuables.  Why?”

“I’ll be taking another stroll this evening, but I’m going to need a bit of help.”

“What sort of help?”

“Apparently, Watts and Townsend are watching us—well, me. They followed me last night down to the wharf,” I said, dragging the wash cloth over my face.

“They’re staying in the small cottage behind the house. I saw them leaving together about an hour ago,” Cass offered.

“Tonight, after dark, they’ll be watching for me again. Give me five shillings, Cass, so that I may find us a room or some other place to live.”

“I doubt you’ll find us anything anywhere near as posh as this, Ivory. We have food, warm beds, and we’re safe,” Cass said.  She flopped down on the bed and crossed her arms tightly. Her eyes stared dead ahead and her lips flattened in anger.

“Can you hear yourself? Do you know what you’re saying? I’ll tell you, just in case you don’t,” I shouted at her in a whisper. I knew what was going to happen to us, and if not today, then soon.

“All I’m saying is; why shouldn’t we enjoy the hospitality of the McCormack’s, even if it is only for a short while?” she asked as her eyes shot up at me.

I laid down the washcloth and sat next to her. I took her by the shoulders and told her what Watts had told me in secret the night before. “Until I find us our own place, regardless of whether or not it compares to this, we are in danger of being shipped home. Unless you want to spend another three weeks on a ship, not knowing who you’re sailing with or what could happen.  Wouldn’t you rather take your chances here?  With me?”

After a moment, Cass’s face softened.  “What do you want us to do?” she asked with a sigh.

“Distract them. Keep their attention focused elsewhere so that I may slip out again tonight. Cass, last night I was mistaken for a man, and I nearly got away with it until those two showed up. I’ll need your help to fully disguise myself tonight so that I may test the disguise further. I need that five shillings and to not be followed.” My excitement was building, and my head began to clear with the ideas and schemes that swept away the fog.

I believed she could see the desperation in my eyes, and she took my face in her hands and kissed my cheek. “I’ll help you. We’ll all help you. I just pray when the Captain returns that it won’t be too late.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be downstairs soon.”

xxx

Following my afternoon in the passing rain clearing weeds and chopping as much wood as Lady Millie tossed at me, I devoured my supper.  Then, the girls and I made our way upstairs to our room. Miranda held her ear to the door while Cassandra bound my breasts and Keara pinned my hair up tightly. Again, I wrapped my head in the scarf and put on my hat.

Cassandra then produced a few articles of clothing she’d managed to “borrow” from the good Captain. He was a bit stout, and the clothes hung loosely from my body, but all the better as a disguise. Thankfully, he was but a few inches taller than me, so his long, midnight blue coat barely reached the top of my boots. Soot from the stove to dull my complexion and a red sash about my waist were the final touches. When my ensemble was complete, I stepped to the mirror.  In an attempt to lift the air of apprehension in the room, I assumed the exaggerated pose of a ship’s captain about to set sail.

“Oh, Ivory!  If I didn’t know it was you, I would pass you on the street without so much as a glance,” Cassandra said.

“You cut quite the figure of a young man.” Miranda giggled and gave me her hand for a kiss.

Keara stood back and studied me for a moment and then walked to our trunk and lifted from it something wrapped in one of her old stockings. “I’m still worried, Ivory. Here, I took this dagger, too.”

Cassandra dug into the trunk as well and handed me the five shillings. “This seems like quite a bit of money, but I’m sure you know what you’re doing. Here are a few pennies, if you find yourself in need of a drink.”

“Now, you all know what you need to do?”

“I’m looking forward to it, actually,” Miranda sighed.  She walked to the window and brushed the curtain aside.

“What are you doing, girl?” Keara asked.  Then, she followed Miranda’s eyes down into the yard. “You hussy, you.”

“I don’t see them down there anyway, you shrew,” Miranda shot back.

“That’s enough. This could mean either life here or death on some merchant ship back to Charles Towne. We’re just fortunate there’s no moon tonight,” I sniped, and I waved them all to the bedroom door so they could begin their diversion.

Once the girls were down the stairs and I could hear them chatting with Lady Millie in the parlor, I moved as quietly as a cat and equally as swift until I was out the front door and into the night. I knew Townsend and River would be watching the bedroom window, so although this was a risk, I had to take it. I followed my same course.  Only now, instead of winding down, the evening was just beginning to spin. As I strolled through the street, I watched every male I encountered, from gentleman to scallywag. I spied them as they walked. I imitated their gaits and even tipped my hat and bowed to anyone who crossed my path. My confidence grew, and by the time I reached the
Golden Gull Tavern
, the same one as the night before, I strolled straight through the door and found a small table off in a corner.

It didn’t take long for a mysterious gentleman such as I to attract the attention of a bare-shouldered, brown-haired tavern wench with a swing in her hips to rival a tickled pup. “What be yer pleasure?” she asked with her over-exposed bosom about to shut off my breathing.

“Rum,” was my answer, complete with all five pennies, which she wasted not a moment snatching from my ruddy palm.

I thought perhaps flashing money around this dreadful place wasn’t such a good idea, but I was bound to make a mistake or two in this first attempt as a man. My brunette strumpet returned in a blink, sat a tankard twice the size of my fist in front of me, and said, “There’s two more in them pennies, love, unless ye can think of somethin’ else ye’d rather spend ‘em on.” She flicked my chin with her index finger and spun away, waving back at me over her shoulder and wiggling her fingers.

I had no intention of attracting anyone, least of all her, so I tipped my cavalier down over my eyes and lifted the rum to my lips. Within the hour, every empty seat was filled and an accordion and fiddle duet was livening things up. A staircase rose from a landing to the left of the bar, and I turned to find six women of low morals and twelve bare breasts.  They were dancing and singing and, dare I say, bouncing, as they leaned over the banister to incite the men from their chairs and cups to come and play.

As I glanced around, I noticed an elderly man already way into his cups and slumped over asleep, and a large man I’d kept an eye on since he came in.  I named him Big Red due to his bounty of thick, red hair. We were the only men—real or not— who did not find this show at all enticing.

Big Red was a giant. He was as big and thick as Master Green, and his full cheeks were flushed with rose from days spent under the sun. His blue eyes emitted a quiet warmth, twinkling in the flame of the small lantern in the center of his table every time he raised them from his glass. Even with his hat on—a leather cavalier much like mine but not nearly as old and worn — I could see his mane of fiery red, wavy hair that was but a shade away from that of his well-kempt beard. I could hardly keep my eyes from it as he stroked it every few minutes.

From the corner of my eye, the simple motion of his meaty left hand lifting, smoothing, and then gliding down his mustache and over the two or so inches of coarse amber beard intrigued me. Was he doing it because he was nervous? Was this some tick or habit? Who was he? Where did he come from? Was he a pirate, or just a merchant ship captain who stopped over for the evening before heading out again in the morning? The biggest question of all, however, was why couldn’t I stop looking at him…and why were those sparkling eyes talking to me?

I blinked and even turned my seat in order to cut him out of my view, but for some reason I simply could not discern or control, I caught myself turning back. Unfortunately, he spotted me.  I felt the rum burning as it rose back into my throat, and my eyes darted to the bouncing breasts on the stairs. Involuntarily, I caught myself bobbing my now nearly weightless head to the buoyant music.  Had I known I was smiling and tapping my foot as well, I’d have slapped my own self in the face.

“Are ye ready?” the brown-haired woman asked as she pressed my face into her breasts and giggled, which practically wrapped themselves around my ears. My reflex reaction rescued me from her plump, fleshy vice, and I pushed her away. I suppose the look of complete disgust on my face didn’t deter her either, since she came at me again with that giggle. I shoved her off a second time.

“What’s this? Aye, ye like it rough, do ye?” she said with a haughty snarl. “Ye wanna spank me arse, too? Yer a salty, one ain’t ye?” When I failed to reply, she stowed herself away in her blouse, picked up my mug, and then slammed it back down in front of me as she dug her knuckles into her hips. “What’s the trouble? Ain’t I bonny enough fer the likes a’ you?”

I held my eyes low and made every effort to choose my words wisely. “Madame, I’m simply not in the spirit for the company of a lady this evening.” Regardless of my well-chosen words, she had already reached a level of anger at my rejection that was beyond my ability to soothe.

“Ah, I see it now, plain as day. Ye don’t like tits. Yer in the spirit fer somethin’ a little
harder
,
aye?” She laughed. This wasn’t a pleasant, playful laugh. This was an insulting, degrading, man-crushing cackle that, although not a man, offended me on a level I didn’t even know I had.

“Walk away, Madame.”

“Excuse me?” she said in an upturned shrill.

“I said, walk away…and don’t come back.”

Little did I know that this lovely, well-rounded creature who surely meant me no real harm, was about to return the favor I’d given Rip Townsend less than a day ago. Only I wasn’t about to be as forgiving. When the rum hit me in the face, my masculine façade caved like a sandcastle under a wave. Then, when she topped it off with a slap in the face, she took my last remnant of control, and I leapt from my seat and punched her hard in the right side of her jaw. Before I knew what had happened, this saucy trollop was on me. I’d mixed it up quite a few times in my day with men, but this crazy tart fought like two men, and she used every natural weapon she had. She clawed my cheek with her long fingernails and tried to bite me, while I did my level best to fend her off. The worst of it all was her howling and screeching and screaming of obscenities and accusations of whom, and what, I might wish to bed that nearly burst my eardrums.