Hades's Revenge (11 page)

“How dare you throw me over your shoulder
like a…a…sack of potatoes.”

“If you would have come on your own
recognizance, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such uncomfortable
means.”

William sat watching the two pace in
agitation, glaring at one another, throwing intermittent insolent
banter at their opponent. He laughed to himself as he proceeded to
start a fire with his flint and steel with hay and broken wood
furniture.

Once the flames took off and light showed
the smile on his face, Jessop asked, “What pray tell, do you find
so amusing, William?” This question directed the woman’s attention
from Jessop. For the moment, both looked upon Will with
discontent.

“It’s nothing, really. I just think you two
are quite the pair.”

“A pair?” she said appalled at William’s
distinguishing them as a couple.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating—a pair
as in a couple? Hardly,” he said and she agreed with a nod of her
head.

“Look at her, she’s most unagreeable,
stubborn, annoying, and insensible,” Jessop said.

“Insensible? You’re accusing
me
of
being crazy?”

“No, well, maybe…Yes. I am. You don’t have
good enough sense to come out of the rain in a lightning storm
without being forced to do so. I find that impractical and
irresponsible.”

“Oh, do you? Someone who can’t take a step
without bumping into someone or knocking them over so as to injure
themselves is not very sensible, either. And as for you, I find you
to be mule-headed, inept, insufferable and insensitive,” she said
with a nod at the end of her statement as if physically punctuating
it.

Jessop couldn’t believe the words that came
out of this woman’s mouth. “Insensitive? I offered my help time and
time again. I apologized profusely and when you didn’t abide with
common sense, I asserted myself to gallantly save you from
yourself.”

“OOOOoooohhhhhh!” she roared in vexation.
“So you see yourself as some white knight coming to save the weak,
dimwitted, woman who couldn’t survive without his help, do
you?”

“Well, yes. I do.”

She shook her head in disbelief and let out
a screech of frustration as she stomped to a hay bail and sat with
a
hmph
. Her hand came up with a pointed finger and her mouth
opened to say something when William said, “Now, children, let’s
play nice!” Both of them turned and glared at his comment.

“I’d dare say we’re stuck here for a few
hours, if not the evening, so maybe we could just keep the
derogatory comments to ourselves and make the best of this
situation. It might be a long night and I wouldn’t mind getting
some sleep,” William said.

Jessop crossed his arms indignantly at his
suggestion and said, “I can do that, but I’m not so sure our guest
can be so obliging.”

The woman opened her mouth to say something
both William and Jessop knew would not be nice, when William said,
“And Miss Patti, is it?” She nodded. “Can you manage to keep your
exasperations under control for the night?”

Her mouth opened again as if to say
something, but must have thought better of it and replied calmly,
“Most assuredly.” Then she smiled at William and then presented
Jessop with a horrible forced smile to seal the deal.

“Good,” William said, pleased with
himself.

“I saw an old horse blanket by the door. I’m
sure it’s dusty and smelly but it should be warm. It might keep
your teeth from chattering any louder than they already are,”
William said and pointed to a peg by the entrance.

Jessop could see she was biting her tongue
at William’s comment, but she rose and progressed to the blanket,
shook it out and coughed a bit from inhaling the debris it forced
into the air. She threw it around her like a shawl and cringed at
the smell when she pulled it tightly around her neck. She went back
to the bale and with great effort, started dragging it closer to
the fire.

Jessop jumped to her rescue as if he had no
free will and attempted to help her. “Let me help,” he said. She
put her hand up to tell him to go away, then glanced at William
watching and she instead said behind gritted teeth, “Fine. Thank
you!”

He knew her statement was not what she
really wanted to say, but let it go and rounded the bale pushing it
toward the fire. He slipped once on a large clump of strewn hay but
tried to play it off as if it hadn’t happened. One glance at Patti
revealed it had not gone unnoticed, possibly furthering her opinion
of his lack of coordination.

He tried to ignore the fiendish yet pleasant
smile that adorned her lips. When he felt it was close enough, he
bowed as if to let her know he had served his duty. She sat
delicately on the hay and spread out her soaked skirt under the
blanket so it would dry from the heat of the fire.

William and Jessop carried a few more bales
for them to sit on and William found an abandoned coat for a man
three sizes wider than he and far smellier than the horse blanket.
William offered it to Patti, but she could smell it from a distance
and said she was fine with what she had.

Jessop too found something to cover himself
from the cold, though it provided many laughs and sniggers from
Patti and William—a woman’s pink petticoat with as many stains as
it had ruffles. He pulled the wider end of the skirt around his
shoulders for warmth framing his face with pink lace and ribbon. He
was not happy, but the rain did not seem to be letting up so he
tolerated with snide remarks from William and smirks from
Patti.

After a few hours, Patti laid on her bale
encased in her smelly blanket and closed her eyes. Her hair was
drying and the stray strands that lay on her face and shoulders
seemed to curl like copper springs as they dried. Jessop thought
she was quite attractive when her mouth wasn’t open yelling uncivil
remarks at him. He found himself staring at her as she lay relaxed
and content in her dreams.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Jessop had been studying her unusually long
eyelashes and how perfectly symmetrical her eyes were when William
startled him with his question. “What? Her?” He scrunched his face
and turned his head from side to side as if that made her look
better and continued, “I guess some might find her appealing.”

“And you? How do you find her?”

“Me? I find her, well, boorish and
rude…”

William cut him off and said, “Not her
actions, those are brought about by conditions and environment. No,
I mean what do you think of HER?”

Jessop pushed out his lips as if it helped
him think and then rubbed the shadow of a beard on his chin with
his thumb and forefinger. “I suppose she’s moderately attractive,
her smooth skin makes her younger, probably just of the age to be
engaged. But I personally would never be able to get past her
grating disposition.”

“Oh. I see. And that’s why you’ve been
staring at her for the better part of an hour?”

“I have not.”

William raised his eyebrows in question and
then said, “But you have.”

Jessop was flustered and appalled at what
William was hinting. He hadn’t been staring at her—taking in every
little quiet movement of her expression or the quiver of her lips
while she dreamed. Or had he? He shook his head as if to shake off
some spell put on him.

William smiled as he leaned against the bale
warming his feet on the fire and throwing random things into its
flames.

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t think anything, I was merely
pointing out the obvious.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’ve been tripping all over yourself
since you ran into this woman. I’ve never seen you so, how shall I
say it, not you. You are the most agile and nimble swordsman, yet
when you are around her you have two left feet.”

“Just because I’m having a bad day doesn’t
mean I’m enamored.”

“And then there’s the fact you two bicker
like an old married couple.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying ‘the line
between love and hate is a very fine line indeed’?”

“Of course, but this, this is not
love…hate…anything near this invisible and infuriating line you
speak of.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Jess,” he said
chortling.

“Absurd…preposterous…love…it’s laughable,
really…ha, I say,” Jessop said under his breath as he beat his bale
with his fist and turned away from the fire and HER to sleep.

* * *

When William and Jessop roused from their
slumber to the smell of smoky ash and William’s rank jacket, they
found they had been deserted by their injured guest.

“Guess she doesn’t like long goodbyes,”
William teased.

Jessop snorted and returned, “Good riddance,
I say. I was only doing what any gentleman would do in the
situation.”

“Maybe,” William said as he ran his hands
through his hair, withdrawing pieces of straw with a long yawn and
stretch. “Though I don’t think many ‘gentlemen’ would have thrown
her over their shoulder like some sort of wench. Maybe you’re
really turning into a bona fide pirate.”

They exited the barn. “You’re not taking
that jacket, are you?” Jessop said, noting William still had the
overcoat on.

“Why? You don’t think it suits me?”

“The smell or style? Both are atrocious.
First it smells like something crawled inside and died in it, and
the other point being it’s at the very least three sizes too big
for you.”

William inhaled deeply with the coat collar
at his nose. “Really? I don’t smell a thing.”

“That’s because the stench has eaten away at
your sense of smell and rendered it useless.”

“I kind of like it, though,” he said
admiring it. “It could be the basis of my pirate name—Stinky Coat.
Or maybe…”

“You really want to be known for the rest of
your life as ‘Stinky’ or some other name noting that you reek?”

He stood in the path for a moment to ponder
such a thing as if considering it. “I guess not,” he said finally
taking the wretched thing off and laying it on a boulder nearby. He
ran to catch up with Jessop who had started up the path towards the
woods and the port.

“Whew! You still stink, I think you’re going
to have to take another bath or they’re going to call you Stinky
without the coat.”

“Really?” he said, smelling his clothes.

“Yes. Really.”

“Do you supposed they’ll give us our money
back since we didn’t actually sleep in the hotel?”

“I doubt it. We’re dealing with a bunch of
pirates—you really think they’re going to find it in their hearts
to give us back our fair share?”

“Maybe.”

“Very unlikely.”

“Do you suppose we’ll ever see Miss Patti
again?”

“It’s doubtful.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“Not seeing her again.”

“Why would that bother me?”

“What if she’s the one?”

“The one what?”

“The one you’re meant to be with?”

“You really do have quite the
imagination.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“It’s all in how you look at it.”

“Is it?”

“It is. For instance…”

“Somehow I knew there would be a ‘for
instance.’”

“For instance,” William repeated in
annoyance of the interruption, “if someone had said to me a year
ago, ‘William, you’re going to make a fine pirate someday,’ I’d
have laughed heartily at the idea.”

Jessop raised his eyebrows in contemplation
and agreement. “Truer words were never spoken. You have turned out
to be very good in combat and you’ve taken up with woodworking like
no one’s business.”

“Exactly.”

“But how does that make you a great
pirate?”

“Not sure.”

“I think the fumes from that jacket have
jumbled your brains.”

“Naw. Think they’ve been jumbled for a
while. But seriously now, how do you like being a pirate?”

“I think sometimes I have an aptitude for
it, but then we go into battle and that’s when I’m not sure
anymore.”

“Yah. I could do without the killing, too.
Oh and the near death situations, but all in all I find myself not
missing home much. I feel a little guilty about that from time to
time—especially when I think of Lily and what’s become of her and
the farm without me there to work it.”

“I can imagine that would gnaw at one’s
insides.”

“It does. What about you? Do you worry about
what’s become of your family?”

“I must admit I do enjoy the life of a
sailor—much more than I ever thought I would, but my family, well,
I’m guessing with me out of the picture, Penelope has most likely
stepped in as the mistress of the house at my father’s side, which,
I might add, is what they both wanted in the end anyway.

“They are much more suited for one another
than our pairing. I would have never been very happy as an
aristocrat and she would have never been happy with a laborer. As
for my father, he’ll survive and be the happier for it. I never
really fit in to his mold of what he expected me to become.”

“If you had the choice, would you go
back?”

“That’s a hard question. The right thing to
do would be to answer yes, but part of me thinks it would be better
for all parties involved if they think I’m dead. In a sense, that
man they knew is dead. I could never go back to living the way it
was.”

“You wouldn’t go back to live in the lap of
luxury and all that money.”

“Money isn’t everything, William. To me,
that money is my father’s.”

“Money is money. It doesn’t matter where it
came from.”

“It’s does to me. I’d love to be as
successful as my father, but I needn’t be to be happy. When the
time comes to settle down and have a family, I’d like to know I can
provide for them, and that it’s due to my efforts they have the
things they do. Though my father has been successful and invested
wisely, most of the family money was not his doing.”