The Lady Captain Read online

  “Uh... h-hi...” Isabella nervously spoke up. “I didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Harriot.”

  “Hello, Your Highness.” Though he greeted her, he didn't glance up from his book. Isabella thought he was being rude, but she didn't really expect anything more of him. After all, he had always seemed a bit cold and aloof.

  Isabella stood in front of one of the study's many bookshelves and pretended to busy herself with their titles. In truth, she couldn't focus on anything but Harriot's close proximity. “I didn't expect you to be the bookish type,” she told him.

  “Well...” He roughly turned a page in his book. “Surprise.”

  “Reading is something you often do?” she asked.

  “Not often enough, I'm afraid.”

  “What are you reading, Mr. Harriot?”

  Harriot wasn't there for small talk. In fact, he almost told her as much, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. After all, she looked excited by his company. “I'm reading about the history of Columbigo's emperors.”

  “Oh...” When Isabella turned around, her nose was wrinkled. She was hoping for something more romantic than that. “That sounds... dull.”

  “It is,” Harriot agreed, nodding. “By the way, your name's mentioned in this book.”

  “It is?” Isabella gasped. “What's in there?”

  “Don't worry, it's nothing too scandalous. It's just factual information, like your weight as an infant, your birth date... and your star sign, interestingly enough.” Harriot's finger prodded the page where Isabella's name was. “It seems you're a Virgo.”

  “Do you believe in that sort of thing?” she asked. “Star signs? Do you believe that could actually determine who we are?”

  “No. It's hogwash.” With a sigh, Harriot returned to the page he was reading previously.

  “Well, if you ever want something to read besides boring old facts, let me know. I can help you find something more entertaining.” Isabella selected a book for herself and started toward the door. She silently cursed herself for finding a good option so quickly. Being in Harriot's company was the most exciting part of her otherwise dreary day.

  Clutching her book to her chest, Isabella paused beside his table. “So, um... Mr. Harriot...” she began.

  “Hm?” Once again, his eyes were glued to the page. She wondered if it was possible for him to look any less interested in her.

  “It's my birthday in two days,” Isabella timidly told him.

  “Uh huh.” When he finally glanced up from his book, Tom's eyebrow was raised. “And why are you telling me? Did you want a present or something?”

  “Well... no.”

  “Good,” he said with a chuckle. “Because I hate shopping, and you would end up with a terrible gift.”

  “Um...” There was a very specific question she wanted to ask, but she had to summon an inordinate amount of courage to force the words from her mouth. “Are you going to enter the tournament?”

  “Tournament?” Harriot sounded mildly curious.

  “Oh, is it the first you've heard of it? There's going to be a tournament on my birthday. Quite a few people are entering, or so I've been told. We've never had a tournament or anything like a tournament before, so everyone's looking forward to it. A few people even crossed oceans to attend.” When she realized she was rambling, Isabella winced. “Oh... and I thought you might be interested because my brother told me you're very skilled.”

  “Did he?”

  “Uh huh.” Isabella nodded slightly. “And so... uh... one of the prizes will probably be a kiss from the princess, so, uh... I'd actually really like it if you'd enter, Mr. Harriot... so...” Flames erupted in Isabella's cheeks as she awaited his answer.

  When Harriot turned his attention back to her, one side of his mouth was slightly tilted. It looked a bit like a grin, but Isabella wasn't sure.

  “You really want me to enter?” Harriot asked.

  “Ahh... y-yes.” Isabella nervously nibbled her lip. Her mind was racing with inappropriate thoughts. What if he won? What if they kissed?

  “Hmm.” Harriot's fingers idly drummed the table as he considered it.

  Harriot was quiet so long that the silence was practically painful to poor Isabella. “Well? Will you enter?”

  “I'll think about it,” Harriot finally said, which was a slightly less enthusiastic answer than she hoped to hear. “For now, I should really get back to my immensely invigorating book. Good night, Princess.”

  He was dismissing her, and it was probably incredibly rude of him, but Isabella didn't care.

  She was so smitten with him, she felt a bit dizzy as she staggered from the room.

  Twenty Five

  When Julian woke up between two naked women whose names he couldn't remember, he felt ashamed. He was pretty sure one of them had an unusual name. Marmie? Marna? Sighing with self-disgust, Julian crept out of bed and hopped into a pair of breeches. He was so determined to flee the scene, he didn't even bother to put on a shirt. He did, however, reach for his walking stick before tiptoeing from the room. The airship was probably one of the safest places in the world, but he could never be too careful.

  “Wiggly!” Julian hissed as soon as he stepped out of his room. “Are you in the middle of something important, or can I bother you?”

  Wiggly, who was heading in the opposite direction, halted when he heard his captain's voice. He swept his soiled cap from his head, turned around, and sauntered back to his captain. “There ain't nothing more important than you, Cap'n. Whaddaya need?”

  “There are two women in my room,” Julian whispered, because they were standing right outside his door. “I need you to kindly extract them from the premises before the airship departs. And you need to get rid of them soon, because we need to reach the capital before the princess' birthday.”

  Wiggly didn't look particularly shocked by his captain's request. Julian Featherstone had a long and sordid history with women, and Wiggly Joe had often played a part in that history. Once, he had to remove a young lady who wouldn't stop clinging to the captain's arm. More recently, he had to rescue Julian from a wrathful father who didn't take kindly to his daughter's stolen virtue. Removing two women from the captain's quarters sounded simple by comparison. “Alright, Captain. Will do.”

  “Oh, and Wiggly!” a wide-eyed Julian added. “Both of these women are very naked, so please be a gentleman and knock before you enter.”

  “Alright, Captain,” Wiggly repeated, though he sounded a bit less excited about that particular request. Wiggly Joe couldn't remember the last time he saw a naked woman, but it felt like eons ago. Nevertheless, he rapped on the door.

  Julian sprinted up to the deck, where he was accosted by a somber-looking Jolly. At first, he didn't think much of Jolly's grave expression. His first mate was almost always unpleasant.

  “Captain, I've got bad news,” Jolly reported. “It's very bad news, in fact. Probably the worst news I've heard in awhile.”

  “Hit me with it, Jolly!” Julian exclaimed, clapping him on the arm. He sounded surprisingly jovial for a man on the verge of hearing some dreadful news.

  “As of yesterday, there were sixty-four men on this airship.” Jolly's voice was emotionless as he delivered the bad news. “As of today, there are fifty-seven.”

  “Fifty-seven?” Julian gasped. “Wait... what happened to the seven we lost?”

  “They've left us. Left you,” Jolly told him. “They decided to work for someone else.”

  “Damn.” Julian's lips dropped into a pout. “Am I really that bad?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that, Captain?”

  As Julian's pout persisted, his eyes narrowed. He looked like he bit into something unpleasant. “So I am that bad?”

  Rather than answer the question, Jolly opted to change the subject. “Jared's left us too, Captain.”

  “Jared?” Julian gasped. “Jared Foster left? He was my protege! He was my sidekick! I thought he liked me! Are you sure he's gone?�
�

  “Aye.” Jolly nodded regretfully. “I'm afraid he is.”

  “Well... damn. That's unfortunate. Nevertheless, life goes on. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to tell the helmsman to depart. We need to leave Sharlitte as soon as possible.”

  As he watched the captain walk away, a surprisingly sentimental Jolly muttered to himself, “I thought I was your sidekick...”

  Julian told the helmsman to lift off, and a few minutes later, they were in the air. Twisting plumes of smoke billowed from the engines as they soared into the sky. Julian stood on the deck and closed his eyes. He listened to the steady hum of engines, and felt the rumble of power beneath his feet. He filled his nostrils with the pungent smell of steam, and the sour scent of--

  “Wiggly.” When Julian opened his eyes, Joe was standing beside him. And he hadn't bathed in ages, apparently.

  “I jus' wanted to tell you them girls is gone,” Wiggly said. “And I barely had them off the airship before we took off. If I'd been a minute slower, they would've been stuck here.”

  “Sorry. I should've given you more time,” Julian apologized. “By the way, have you seen Miss Jordan today?”

  “No, but I never saw her leave the ship or nothing. I reckon she's in her room.”

  Without warning, Wiggly launched a wad of black, tobacco-laden spit from his mouth. When Julian saw the spittle splash on his deck, he shook his head and sneered. “Wiggly... that means you'll have to swab the deck, you know.”

  “I know.” Wiggly didn't sound the least bit ashamed.

  “Next time, maybe spit over the side of the airship?” Julian suggested with a shrug.

  “Yeah. I guess I could try that.”

  “Good lord,” Julian muttered as he walked away. Jared's departure meant he lost a competent man, and competent men could be hard to find. He would have traded five Wiggly Joes for one Jared Foster.

  When Julian reached Lettie's bedchamber, he tapped on the door with a single knuckle. He was relieved when he heard her say, “Come in!” For a moment, he wondered if she had abandoned him too.

  He was less relieved when he entered the room and saw her pointing a gun at his face.

  “Lettie!” Julian shrieked. “Goodness, where'd you get a gun?”

  “Jared gave it to me when the pirates attacked. I've been waiting for the right moment to make my move!”

  “Oh... Lettie Lettie Lettie.” Julian tucked his walking stick under his arm and sauntered toward her. “And here I thought we were getting along!”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I thought you liked me!” Julian whined.

  “And why would you think that?” she repeated icily.

  “Actually, I know you like me!”

  She shook her head. She wondered how long he would keep deluding himself into thinking that.

  “You might not like me a lot, but I know you like me a little.” Julian took another step in her direction. “Now... just drop the gun or hand it over. I know you're not going to shoot me. You'd feel terrible if you shot me.”

  “I would?”

  “Of course you would!”

  Lettie's protest was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't keep lying to him. It wasn't as if she hated him. In fact, the thought of Julian bleeding made her frown. The thought of him bleeding from a wound she gave him was even worse. “I just want to go home, Julian! You can understand that, right?”

  “Well, you were free to leave at any time!” Julian claimed. “Okay, maybe not any time, but you could have walked off the airship when we were in Sharlitte!”

  Lettie's eyebrows snapped into a glare. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean... you could have walked right off the airship! There wasn't anyone watching you, and no one would have stopped you. You could have left at any point.”

  Lettie collapsed into her pillow with a groan. The gun stayed in her hand, and she continued to point it at Julian. “Are you serious?”

  “I'm absolutely serious.”

  “If I could leave, why didn't you tell me?” she hissed. “Obviously you didn't want me to leave!”

  “I didn't want you to leave,” Julian agreed. “I quite like having you here.”

  Lettie's gun wavered in her hand. Her arm was getting tired, as was her determination to dislike him. “I really could have left?” She struggled to believe him. “Well... it would have been useless, because I'm far away from Baltmoor. I wouldn't know how to get back home, not without any money. I would've been aimless.” At times, she wasn't even sure she wanted to get back home, not after her embarrassing defeat at Julian's hands. She wasn't eager to face her father's wrath and everyone else's judgment.

  “I'll make you a deal, Lettie.” Julian had the audacity to sit at the end of her bed, and he barely flinched when she wagged the gun at him. “If you give me that gun, I'll take you back home.”

  Her eyes narrowed skeptically. “How do I know you're telling the truth?”

  “Because I'm a man of my word, Miss Jordan. And I'm a gentleman, you know.”

  “A gentleman.” Lettie sputtered the word. “If you're a gentleman, I'm a courtesan.”

  “Believe it or not, I've never broken a promise. Not a single one!” Julian claimed. “To be honest, I won't be able to take you to Baltmoor right away. I need to make a stop at the capital first... for the princess' birthday. After that, I promise I'll take you home.” Julian held a hand to his chest. “I swear on my life.”

  Lettie wanted to disbelieve him, but he sounded startlingly sincere. “Will you give me back my airship?”

  Her question made him flinch and chuckle nervously. “Give you back... heh... eheh... um... well...”

  “That's the only way you'll get me to lower this gun! I'll lower it, but I'm keeping it with me. I won't leave myself unarmed.”

  Julian attempted to negotiate with her. “You give me the gun, I'll give you back your airship... and then I'll personally escort you home.” Julian extended a hand and grinned. “Deal?”

  “No!” Lettie was adamant. “I'm keeping the gun!”

  Julian tried again. “You keep the gun, you get your airship, I'll take you home... and you go out to dinner with me sometime?” How could she possibly refuse terms that were so clearly in her favor? Julian closed his eyes and waited for his inevitable victory. Lettie was a handful, but she was worth every effort.

  “No.”

  His eyes snapped opened. “What?”

  “I'm not going to dinner with you! I'd only be leading you on.”

  “Lettieeeee.” As he whimpered her name, Julian dragged his hands across his face, aggrieved. “Why do you have to be so bloody difficult?”

  “I'm not being difficult, I'm being sensible. You're the one who's difficult, Julian. You've been difficult since the day we me--”

  Julian suddenly reached out and swiped the gun from her hand. As he tucked it into his belt, he grinned and said, “See? I knew you wouldn't shoot me.”

  Lettie was speechless. She wanted to cry. In an instant, she lost her only means to negotiate, and he was probably furious with her. “Are you... going to punish me?” she asked. “Am I to be handcuffed and dragged around again?”

  “Not this time.”

  “Are you going to let Jolly flog me?”

  “Goodness, no! How do you know nothing about me, woman? Honestly!” Chuckling, Julian rose from the bed and swaggered to the door. “Here's what's going to happen... you're coming to the capital with me. You're going to watch me in the tournament. After the tournament, I'll give you back your airship, and we'll depart for Baltmoor as soon as we're able.” He winked at her. “Agreed?”

  “But...” Lettie's mouth was open, but no words came out. After the stunt she pulled, kindness from Julian was the last thing she expected.

  “I want you to like me, Lettie. Maybe you will, maybe you won't, but it's worth a shot.” Julian bowed as he slipped through the door. “I'm afraid I've grown quite fond of you, and it's compelling me to do th
e right thing.”

  Lettie still didn't say another word, she simply blinked, baffled.

  “Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Jordan,” Julian said as he closed the door. “We'll be in the capital shortly.”

  Twenty Six

  “Tell me...” Kieran McCray moaned, “how do I always get caught up in this bollocks?”

  As the motocarriage roared through open fields, Kieran kept one hand on the wheel, and one hand on his gun. He was sitting in the driver's seat next to Mae, who, having robbed him once, was difficult to trust. In fact, she robbed him again. She ripped his tankard from his pocket, unscrewed its cap, and took swig.

  “What bollocks?” Mae asked, wiping a dribble of whiskey from her lips.

  “Bollocks like this. Taking dodgy jobs with supposed royalty, squiring people all over God's green earth. How and why do I do it? Why do they even trust me to do it? I'm hardly the nicest bloke in the world.”

  “You must have a trustworthy face.” After a few seconds of studying Kieran's profile, she winced and shook her head. “Er... no, actually... you don't. You really don't.”

  “I look like an arsehole, right?”

  “I wouldn't say arse, exactly.” Mae took another drink from his tankard, then she offered him a swig. When Kieran opened his mouth and tilted his head, she poured some in. “But you do look like a grump.”

  “A grump?”

  “Yeah. You look broody and unfriendly,” Mae tried to explain. “You have pretty blue eyes, though.”

  “Aww, thanks. I'm flattered.” He responded in monotone so she wouldn't mistake his sarcasm. “I suppose a grump is better than a gramps. I've got to say, after my injuries, I'm really feeling my age these days.”

  “Pffft!” Mae scoffed. “You can't be any older than thirty-five, right?”