19. St. George's
The secondary measures of the Fountain took effect in severe cases of life and death. What it effectively does is kill you, then offer you another chance. A reset button. An extra life. Turn it off and turn it back on again.
Andrews was sound asleep with his arms around me when the secondary measures began. I woke up because my lungs stopped. I gagged and tried to inhale, but my diaphragm was paralyzed. I couldn’t talk or scream. The secondary measures induced silence before killing you. My heart was the next to go. I went from thrashing about for air to complete immobility as it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. My eyes bugged, and I gaped like a fish out of water. This can last four to six minutes. Next was the worst. From the crown of my head a splitting, slicing headache as if someone were drilling into my skull and then force-filling me with water. Moments later I died, right there in Graham’s arms.
Then I was struck by lightning. Invisible lightning...I assume. I don’t know. I’ve never seen it. I gasped and opened my eyes to the bright morning sunshine. Andrews was still fast asleep. I felt my face and knew that at least the swelling had gone down. I could still feel some of the large split on my cheek and lip and tenderness around my eye. I didn’t have a mirror, but I was semi-confident I still sported decent bruises. They were wounds I could easily recover from by myself. My head was clear, and the leftover wounds from Tavern Rock felt completely healed. I rotated my shoulder all around, enjoying the pain-free movement. The Fountain kept you from death’s doorstep but only just. You had to heal and carry the scars of your mistakes forever.
We were on a road overlooking the shore. I hopped down and stretched. Large sails caught my attention. The Victoryhad arrived.
“Nanette?” Graham called from the wagon, startled I wasn’t still there in his arms.
“Here. I’m here,” I called.
Graham jumped over the side of the wagon and looked me up and down in shock. He touched my ear and my face, felt my forehead. Then pulled me to him in a bone-crunching hug. He shuddered against me.
“I’m fine. I didn't mean to scare you.” I kept my arms around him.
He took my head in his hands and carefully observed the bruises and cuts. He was intense in his examination, his lips pressed hard together. Then he relaxed and brushed his lips gently against mine.
“Don’t make me let go of you again,” he begged.
In answer I reached out and took his hand, intertwining our fingers. He gave me another of those gentle kisses.
“You look...better,” he admitted.
“Helene’s not as good as she thinks.” I attempted a smile, but my lip cracked open again and started bleeding.
Andrews handed me a handkerchief. He was mystified. I’d have to watch him for signs that he was ready to turn me over to the witch-burners. I was safe for now.
He did whatever you do to get horses to pull a wagon, and this time I sat up on the driver’s bench with him. He set the horses to a good clip. We rode a while in silence, each of us needing a little time to reacquaint ourselves with how to be together now that the animosity had siphoned off.
“Why did you do this? Why did you come?” I asked as the rooftops of St. George's came into view.
“You’ve never said goodbye before… and I wanted a better one than that nonsense yesterday. I wasn’t going to wake up to an empty bed and an empty dock this time when I could help it.” He looked over at my broken face and sighed. “I won’t ask you to stay with me anymore. Magnus had the right idea. I’m going with you this time. Staying by your side until you give me a proper goodbye. Will you have me?” I reached for his hand and held it.
“Yes.”
We rode through the center of town, and I had him stop just around the corner from Lady Catherine’s. I had intended to go to her door myself, but my face was truly atrocious. The poor girl was already upset and terrified, and I doubted my visage would provide much comfort. Andrews might be the answer. He was in town often enough that it wasn’t strange to see him out and about, and he was high class enough to speak with a lady and no one would raise their eyebrows. I directed Andrews to steer the wagon into an alley around the corner from Catherine’s.
“Since you’re part of my crew, I have to let you know we have a few delicate pieces of business to conduct,” I said, wondering for just an instant if this was wise. Andrews knew not all of my business was legitimate, but this was the first time he’d see me brazenly defy the law. “We are here to bring a few passengers back. Not just Isabelle.”
“How many?” He eyed the wagon, perhaps wondering if it was big enough.
“Two and a half. One’s a baby or something. I don’t know how old. And Isabelle, of course.”
“They’ll be sailing away with you?”
“If all goes to plan, yes.” It would be a miracle if a plan of mine actually went off without a hitch.
“I never thought I’d see the day you took on passengers.” He grinned. “Either business is bad or maybe you’re growing up.”
“Neither. This is a one-time deal. I promise you it’ll never happen again.” I turned to him on the bench. Here was the real test. “So now for your part.”
“I get a part?”
“I’m not paying you to sit around collecting dust.”
“I’m getting paid? Maybe I’ll take it out of you in trade.” He spoke in a low voice, and a smile played across his lips.
“We’ll discuss terms later.” I tried to keep my mind focused, but warmth spread between my legs just hearing him mention this. A proper goodbye, he’d said. Focus, Anne. I forged ahead with his instructions. “So if you could go to Lady Catherine’s door and tell her you’d love to escort her to the docks to meet her husband this afternoon, that would be great. Tell her you understand if she’s busy or feels it’s improper, or you hear she’s already got a carriage waiting, but since you are in town you thought you’d ask.”
“Lady Catherine?” He was stunned.
“Make sure she says no to you. Leave with everyone knowing she turned you down. But be sure she understands it’s this afternoon.” I examined him for signs he understood or was going to back down.
He jumped from the wagon, reached for my hand, kissed it, and said, “Yes, Captain.” He walked quickly from the alley and out of sight.
I’d never been more turned on in my life. A proper goodbye, I mused again. It was intriguing. Andrews was back a few minutes later, almost giggling with excitement.
“I thought the lady was going to faint! She has always been a little scared of me, and here I was, offering to take her on a walk together. She could barely get any words out. Her handmaid came to her rescue and turned me down. I’m sure the girl understood. What next?”
“We’re going shopping.”
Andrews was having a good time going to all the shops with me as I bought a variety of different items, some for the ship, some to build a fort inside the wagon large enough to house a few runaways. Together we practically robbed the town. We put on a two-person show, and the shopkeepers and vendors never knew what hit them. Andrews is a shrewd negotiator on his own, and when you added me into the mix, they were practically giving their goods away. Andrews actually whooped as we left our latest victim shaking and confused as to why it was a good idea to sell us those casks of wine for well below market value.
“Tonight, we will toast our victory!” he shouted and scanned the rows of cargo ships at the docks for our next mark.
“Next one, we pretend to not know each other, get into a bidding war, then both walk away.”
I laughed out loud and sprinted to get to a ship selling bolts of cotton before he could. It was a good thing all those ladies I was picking up later were small because we got almost that whole shipful of fabric for next to nothing.
“We might need another wagon,” I observed as we loaded several barrels of fresh water into the back.
“And horses. I have several horses to replace. Damn Talbot straight to hell for betting against me,” he added.
We looked at each other and split into identical grins.
“Me!” he shouted and pushed me into a stack of hay to slow me down as he took off to get to the horse traders.
“Cheater!” I hollered after him. I dusted the hay off and ran after him.
We purchased another team of four horses and a wagon. Andrews was crying with laughter watching me try to drive the wagon down the streets. I gave up. Andrews went to stable one set of horses while I waited on the side of the road flipping the reins around and pretending I was in the wild west chasing down a train.
“Are you looking for me? I have an iron horse to catch, and hell’s coming with me.” I put on my best cowboy accent and imagined the dry plains sweeping out in front of me. A line of carriages and wagons passed me by, and I recognized Izzy’s silhouette inside one carriage.
Andrews hoisted himself up into the wagon next to me and took the reins. “Shall I take us down?”
“You’re a daisy if you do.” I kept the accent.
“Nanette?” He looked at me quizzically and I grinned.
“I’m your huckleberry.” I brought him in for a bewildered kiss then let him do the horses. I felt light. I was not being as cautious as I should, but I couldn’t help it. It was a happy day.
He worked out that I was in a playful mood despite the foreign words and kissed me and grinned before ye-hawing the horses down the road.
The Victory was moored offshore, and smaller boats ferried passengers and cargo out and back. There were a few reunions happening on the shore, but most of the people assembled were there to conduct farewells. Andrews brought our wagon to a halt at the edge of the sand and the road to wait for Izzy.
Rowboats were pulled high on the sand where various soldiers and sailors were loading them with my crates of guns and powder and various other goods. I said a silent goodbye to the arms and wondered idly what excuses I’d have to make to Charlie for losing his fare. That was a problem for another day.
Izzy was wrapped around her lieutenant, tears flowing already. He had his hand under her chin, speaking consoling words to her. Andrews and I sat watching the departure scene in front of us from our seat on the wagon. Neither of us was laughing now.
“I hate goodbyes,” I said as I watched Izzy begin to fall to pieces.
“I know.” Andrews was rapt, watching the scene. I know he was thinking about us. How he wished a similar scene would happen between the two of us.
“This? You really want this?” The young lieutenant began to step towards a boat, still holding out his hand to my sister.
“Let’s not dwell on it yet.” His eyes were still glued to the lovers in front of him.
Graham carefully put his arm around my shoulders, the pressure light and questioning, wondering if I’d accept this gesture from him. I leaned in and held my hand up to his, pulling him tight. The young lieutenant was in his boat now, hands holding Izzy’s face, kissing her again and again.
When the boats finally launched and Izzy was one among many wives left waving goodbye to their husbands, I picked up a flask of whiskey and jumped down from the wagon. Andrews followed me to the beach but stayed back out of the way. I went right to her side and handed her the flask. She could barely see through her tears but threw back the whiskey nonetheless.
I stood with her awhile, watching her husband get rowed away to war. It hadn’t been three months since we’d sailed into these waters ourselves. Tomorrow we’d be out on the same ocean. Izzy would be sailing the same sea as her new husband but leagues and leagues apart. We stood together until the little boat was out of sight. The other wives vanished one by one into their daily lives and responsibilities as we stayed watching that tiny boat get absorbed into the blue.
“It’s time, Izzy. It’s time to go.” I took the flask from her hands and handed it to Andrews, who had come down to assist me with her. Izzy stayed rooted to the spot. “It’s okay. I got you.” I tried to coax her to take a step away.
“He’s gone, Anne. He’s gone,” she cried.
The scene and the characters were familiar. I’d been with her the last time she’d lost the love of her life. We'd waved farewell to Maui's ship as she cried and wondered aloud if she'd ever see him again. She wouldn't. She’d fallen apart at the news of his death, and I hadn’t seen her for almost a year.
“Let’s get you home.” I put my arm around her and pulled her towards the wagon. If she couldn’t move, I’d have Andrews carry her.
She curled into my shoulder, sobbing.
“The day’s not over yet, Izzy. The others are waiting,” I gently reminded her.
She nodded imperceptibly and attempted to collect herself. Unfortunately, in collecting herself she saw my bruises in the full light of the noonday sun.
“Anne! What happened to your face?!” She gasped. She grabbed my face and turned me side to side.
I winced and made the mistake of flicking my eyes to Andrews.
“Did you do this to her, motherfucker?” She turned and leveled a devastating glare at him.
I had completely forgotten about my face as Andrews and I wheeled and dealed our way across town today. Of course she’d notice. I was a monster.
“I should have known.” Izzy advanced on Andrews, who backed away shooting me “help me’” looks. I shrugged, enjoying the show.
“Graham Andrews! Did you do this to her?” Izzy stepped towards him again and gave him a hard, one-handed shove.
“Answer me!” At least she’d stopped crying.
“Ow. Nanette, care to step in here?” He was taken aback with the abruptness of Izzy’s sudden onslaught. God, I loved that girl.
“No, you don’t talk to her,” Izzy said. She was right in his face, fists balled at her side, all five feet and four inches of her bearing down on him like he wasn’t towering over her. “I asked you a question. What happened to my sister’s fucking face?” she said, low, slow, the threat evident in her voice and body.
Andrews may act the gentlemen among ladies but was not born nobility and wasn’t easily cowed. “Your captain made a choice. And so did I.” He was no longer laughing.
“You fucking bastard.” She wound up and struck.
Izzy had been a big fan of ’90s rom coms. She must have made me watch a thousand of those formulaic stories. In one of my favorites, the spunky lead teaches an audience of beauty contestants how to defend themselves. Izzy had taken that lesson to heart, and in quick succession, before Andrews had a moment to consider changing his tone, Izzy did a quick jab to his solar plexus, followed by his instep, nose, and last of all, groin.
As Andrews doubled over, heaving and gasping, she yanked the flask out of his coat pocket. “You stay the hell away from my fucking sister.” She tipped back the flask and turned to me. “Anne? Would you go find the driver, please?”
“He’ll be up in a sec.” I kissed her on the cheek. It was rare for me to have a champion. I felt warm and loved. “Get up in the back and we’ll head out.” I helped her and her enormous dress into the back before going to check on Andrews.
“You’ve got yourself quite the protector,” he wheezed.
“She’s the best.” I patted him on the shoulder. “Giddyup, cowboy.”
“What’s that now?” He straightened and tried to shake off the aftershocks of Izzy’s barrage.
“Go do the horses. We’ve still got a ways to go.” I walked, he limped, back to the wagon.
I climbed up on the bench next to Andrews and looked back at my sister hidden among the various barrels and crates. She took a long pull from the flask while still examining my face. This was going to be trouble. Andrews horsed the horses and we set off.
It didn’t take long for Izzy to collect more words, and she set herself up behind Andrews so he was squarely in her crosshairs. Andrews was a sitting duck for her second wave.
“Anne, do you remember that short story I wrote during Domestic Violence Awareness Month? The one where the aunt disappears the womanizing, abusive husband to save her niece and the children?” She took another sip. “My point is – we can take care of him right now, and, bonus – make it look like an accident!” She cheerfully spoke of his murder like one would ask what you want to eat for breakfast. “It’s not as if they perform detailed autopsies here.”
“If your sister wanted me dead, she wouldn’t need your help, Lady Coventry.” Andrews grinned aside at me, probably thinking of the first time I’d met him (second time he’d met me but that’s a longer story). We put several men in the ground that night.
“Do shut up. No one’s talking to you, driver.” I fought back a smile. Izzy was every inch Lady Cov – what was the name? Ah well, she was every inch the noble lady with that line. Bermuda must have given her quite the masterclass in becoming nobility.
“Anne? You know I’m never going to let this go.”
“Lady Isabelle,” I said pointedly, “it will be a great story for when we are sailing.”
“So you don’t want me to run my stiletto through his ear?” Izzy caressed a long, thin blade just out of Andrews’ sight. “I have this shiny new one I haven’t tried out yet.”
I gave a nice long pause. Long enough to make Andrews somewhat nervous.
“Nanette?” he questioned.
Izzy had startled Andrews with the vehemence of her words and actions. He was waiting to see whether I’d side with her and he should begin fearing for his life in earnest. Too bad I loved him.
“Let’s keep that in our back pocket for now,” I said. Andrews might not know what a back pocket was but was relieved I wasn’t inclined to violence for the moment.
Izzy grumbled but stopped lurking directly behind his seat. She moved over to rest her head on my shoulder. I was surprised and touched by her affection. This was her day to be comforted. Her husband was on his way to war, and she was supposed to be the one accepting help. Since the secondary measures completed and I woke up, I hadn’t given a thought to my bruises and the circumstances around how I acquired them. I loved the man in the seat next to me, but our era began to close when Helene struck. I sat there tensed, as if ready for another blow.
I needed to shrug these ugly responses off. I didn’t want to think about all that now. I didn’t want to think about it ever.
“I’m alright, Izzy. Let’s just focus on you tonight. Okay?” I murmured to her.
She went back to her perch between the crates and pulled at the flask again, muttering darkly. Andrews stared straight ahead. I had nothing to add to the situation. Andrews and I, we weren’t the apologetic type. We made severely deliberate choices and refused to look back in examination of them. There were much nobler ways to live. Look at Izzy, shanghaied to a time of danger and cruelty, fantastical wealth and beauty, and she was taking care of everything and everyone in sight.
The stable hands got our second wagon and horses all dressed and ready to go. Andrews took over the new team, and I was now on deck to drive this wagon.
“Hi yo, Silver,” I whispered and flapped the reins.
Andrews brought his wagon up next to me and did some whistle, heyup noise and whapped them a little, and the horses walked. They walked very slowly, but I was moving forward.
“You’re shitting me, right?” Izzy clambered over the seat back to sit next to me. “Move,” she ordered.
“Thank god.” I fairly threw the horse straps into her face. I did not want to be driving. I figured Izzy wouldn’t be up for it and was planning to let her relax and drink in the back. She’d only just said goodbye to her husband, she deserved to wallow. Goodbyes were hard. Andrews’ wagon disappeared around the corner, and I was suddenly wracked with nerves, wondering what our goodbye was going to look like.
“Where are we going next?” She only slurred a little.
“Catherine’s.” The horses sped up.
Apparently Izzy knew the way and was now going to get us there as fast as a horse could go. I closed my eyes and took calming breaths perfumed with the horse stink.
“And slow down, it's not a race.” Stupid horses. They’d corner too hard and turn over the wagon and we’d all be trapped.
“Jesus wept, Anne. You’re not this scaredy in a car, and those are way faster.” She rolled her eyes at me. Cars didn’t smell as bad as horses.
“Those have brakes. And airbags.” One of the horses took a shit.
“Fair enough. For all the good those do for some people. Trust the horses, Anne. They are majestic animals. They want to live.”
“If they were majestic, they’d be in the sea. No.” I buried my head and closed my eyes. I would have gratefully walked to Catherine’s. Izzy was going way too fast.
“Trust me, at least? Or you can move into the back if that’s better for you.”
“I’m fine. I’m fine here. I’m fine. It’s fine.” I tried to breathe through my mouth.
“Uh huh. You’re about as convincing as that dog in the burning room, Anne.”
“I don’t know what that is. Do we really have to go this fast? Aren’t there speed limits?”
“Horses, Anne. Organic autopilot?” Izzy tipped more of the flask into her mouth, and I gripped the seat harder.
“Just keep your eyes on the road.” I groaned in relief as Catherine’s house came into view. Izzy kept drinking from her flask.
“What’s the plan here? Do I need to do anything? Actually, I should probably not be seen here, right now. I shouldn’t be connected with this.” She swayed as she stood and looked around.
“It’s all arranged,” I assured her. “Pull into the neighboring alley. They will be waiting unless they’ve changed their minds.” They were waiting. Bessie and Catherine, a bundle in a basket, and a few trunks were there waiting for us. Izzy clambered back into the wagon bed.
“I said one trunk.” I jumped down to argue with the two young women. “That’s five trunks. That’s not taking only what you need to survive.”
“Lady Catherine couldn’t bear to part with some items.” Bessie shrugged and began loading them. We needed to get out of here already. We stowed the two women and the baby in one wagon and arranged the barrels and tarps to hide them. Andrews and I stepped back to survey our work. In one, a broken-hearted Lady Isabelle Covington; in the other, two refugees and a baby.
“I’m going to ride with the women and the baby,” I told him. “I can’t have you caught with them.”
“Yes, being caught with the lieutenant commander’s drunk bride and her shiny knife surely won’t bring me any trouble.”
We played rock paper scissors. He lost.
Andrews went to get the flask and refilled it from a cask in the wagon. “Let’s just keep her occupied, shall we?” He took the refilled flask and headed over to my sister. “Drink up, my dear lady. We are riding together. Probably better than letting Nanette drive, though.” He shot me a grin. I flipped him off and climbed into the driver’s seat of my own wagon.
Mere moments later we were off…mostly. The leather reins slipped in my grasp, and I jumped at each clop and jerk from the animals. Andrews pulled ahead as my team of horses sauntered here and there about the road as we headed out of town.
“What’s happening up there?” Bessie called out to me from her hiding spot. “Are we even moving?”
“Yes. Calm down. The horses must be tired or something.” I flipped the reins and tried to recreate the karate-chop noise Izzy made earlier. If anything, they moved slower. “Say, Bessie, do you know horses?” We weren’t quite out of town yet, but I could put my hat and coat on her.
Bessie peeked out to see what was happening. One horse had stopped to graze.
“I can do better than this.” She looked mystified that I was having such trouble.
“My mother never took me for a pony ride. Blame her.” I took off my hat and placed it on her head and wrapped my heavy coat around her thin shoulders, flicking up the collar. “Keep your head low,” I cautioned her.
Bessie nodded and took up the reins and at last we were off.
Andrews was far ahead by this point, but there was only one way to go. We’d catch up. Lady Catherine was silent as a spiderweb back there, and the baby only gurgled a few times that I could hear. When I asked Bessie about it, she answered that the baby was an angel and she’d given Catherine some rum. Bessie and I were going to get along just fine.
“Do you like the sea?” I asked her. A dark expression crossed her features, and I cursed myself for being an idiot. “Of course not. This trip will not be like that. I promise.”
“Lady Isabelle said as much herself.”
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I was too my first time out. My father took me out on this tiny ship to teach me to sail. I was just a small child at the time. We capsized.”
Bessie clenched the reins harder.
“We were fine, though.” I tried to reassure her. “Got the boat back upright. I figured out much later that he was a terrible sailor and a worse teacher.” I don’t think I’d allayed any of Bessie's fears. Izzy would be so much better at this. The road curved up ahead, and she and Andrews were thoroughly out of view.
“How about you tell me what you’re afraid of?” I tried.
“The dark” was all she answered.
“I’ll make you a hammock bed right on top of the deck. Sunshine all day.” I did have a great hammock attachment I put between the masts. It was a long trip ahead of us, and I’d like her to be comfortable.
Bessie had the good sense not to talk to me the rest of the trip, and we clip-clopped our way at a good pace towards Andrews’ house and the sea beyond.
We reached Andrews’ stables well past midnight. He had arrived before us and already had people unloading his wagon and arranging the various goods to be brought into his stores or down to my dock. Lady Catherine and her child followed Bessie, wordless with fright, onto my ship. It was my plan to have us all packed and sleeping there so we could leave first thing in the morning. Everyone worked around Izzy, who remained dead to the world in the wagon.
I went down to the docks to store the last of my supplies and felt the excitement a new journey always brings me. It was a good thing sunrise wasn’t too far off because I was too amped up to sleep. Andrews arrived at the dock carrying the passed-out Lady Isabelle and met me at the bottom of the gangplank.
“Permission to come aboard?” he asked.
I was at a loss. Rule number five: no men on my boat. Either I let him carry Izzy on for me or I tried to carry her or I let her drunk ass sleep on the dock until she could stagger aboard herself. Andrews didn’t drop my gaze until I nodded and led him on deck and then below to Izzy’s cabin. More gently than she deserved, Andrews placed her in bed and tucked her in.
