12. Yes
Captain Anne and I arrived here with a mission to sell our guns and other military type supplies. Yesterday, with the assistance of LCC, I managed to accomplish this. The trade? 200 acres - the entire western end of the island! This should make good news when I’m finally granted access.
Looking forward to an outing with LCC later today. I told him explicitly I did not wish to enjoy the company of any other boring “nobles” on this island. I hope he understood. Language and cultural barriers have been more of a problem than expected.
Nichte is excellent with one dish meals but lacks an eye for creativity.
To do:
Get plant clippings from the ship
Inquire about nearby vacant lots/properties
Check suppliers - produce, dairy, meat
I started my morning elbows deep in dough while conferring with a fascinated Anika and Nichte about this and that. Hours later, I greeted Placido the carpenter and his apprentices as Gerta and I headed for the town square, pausing to admire their progress on the blast hole.
It was incredibly hot and the sun was barely up. Not for the first time, I cursed the required layers of clothing. At least my new delivery of garments from Matheo was cooler than most of the other local attire. I had an exterior silk corset that looked and felt more like a sash, and inside, the lace-up linen crop-top. I had no idea how the local ladies managed at all - and they were wearing full stockings, too. Today, there were even more people staring at me than usual.
“You bought all the land, Lady, and you only just bought the Sea Wind,” Gerta said,noticing my unease over the attention. “You are known.”
The food vendors standing behind their carts eyed me excitedly as the children began to gather, but that was normal; I had already gained a reputation here. Today, my purpose was multi-pronged, and not entirely altruistic.
I set Gerta to purchasing food while I looked around the square, taking in the faces. Some were familiar. Among them was the curvy redhead, who was giving me a twisted, oddly studious scowl from beneath her parasol as she crossed the square with a few other young women. I focused on the familiar friendly faces. Bren and Fin, Fredo and his sister Ada, and several others I didn’t have names for yet. “Lili,” I beckoned. The girl looked at me with surprise, then approached warily. “I would like to speak with you, if you could spare the time?” She chewed on her lip, then nodded. “Thank you,” I said, then had her stand to my side while she ate. Quinn came to me last, this time with someone in tow. “Bessie!” I exclaimed. It was Lady Catherine’s attendant from the day before.
“Lady Isabelle,” she curtsied.
Quinn nodded. “My sister,” he said, smiling proudly.
Oh... His sister’s name was Bess, not Beth. The kid had a bit of a lisp, it seemed; I hadn’t noticed.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bessie. We didn’t get to talk much yesterday.” I grinned at her, then leaned forward. “Did you really enjoy the bread?” I asked her quietly.
Bessie assessed me cautiously before responding. “I thought it very good. Better plain, in truth,” she added.
“Good to know,” I replied, smiling at her thoughtfully.
I told Lili that I might have a job for her, and she agreed to walk back with Gerta and I to the inn. Along the way, I tried to engage her in conversation, but she was too nervous to speak much. I took her to the kitchen to meet Nichte and show her around, pointing out some of the features. Features. Features were great, but I missed appliances. Anika came in while we were there, and I introduced them as well. Then we went outside into the yard area that held the outdoor oven, clotheslines, and storage.
“I’m going to put a garden here,” I told her, gesturing to the area I had marked out with some stones. “Do you know anything about gardening?”
“Rich women have gardens,” Lili offered thoughtfully, looking me over, “with pretty flowers.”
“I like flowers too,” I replied with a smile. “We’re going to go talk now. Are you hungry?”
In my parlor, I had the girl scrub her hands while I gave Josefa-Maria instructions at the door. She had covered Lili’s chair with a protective cloth before I realized, and now that I really took her in, it was probably for the best. Now that Lili’s hands were clean - an act that had left the water in the basin discolored - it became apparent just how filthy she was. Her hair was a tangle of such proportions I could assess neither the length nor the color, and it would really be better to just burn her clothing. I slid a plate of my usual snack foods over to her, nibbling on the same bread, cheese and fruit while watching her devour everything in front of her.
Like the rest of the children in the square, Lili was small and thin, which made it difficult to determine exactly how old she was. Somewhere between 13-15, I guessed, though I’d thought she was younger before now. She polished off the first serving quickly and I refilled her plate. Josefa-Maria returned, setting down milk and more bread before leaving again. Lili nodded her thanks at me; she was too busy eating to talk.
With a start, I realized that Lili reminded me of Miriam, my helper who wanted to be a vet. I wondered if I would ever see her again.
Once Lili slowed down, I started chatting again. “I’m going to be making some changes around here, and I need a young assistant.” She looked at me through narrowed, thoughtful eyes. “Would your parents allow you to work?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have parents,” Lili said, her posture resolute.
About what I had expected. “So you are in charge of yourself, then?”
“Yes. Yes...madam?” She ventured.
“My lady,” I corrected her mildly, smiling.
“My lady,” she repeated.
“Have you any desire for employment?” She stared up at me, her face a mask of interest and wariness. “Perhaps if I were you tell you a bit about the position?” After a moment, she nodded cautiously. “Very well. I am looking for a kitchen assistant. I have a number of things to teach, and I would prefer someone young who is willing to learn new things. Our cook could also use some help. Any issues thus far?” She shook her head, wide-eyed. “I’ll need help setting up and maintaining the garden - I would teach you everything about that. Also, we’re having a coop built. Chickens, ducks, quail. You would be helping Liselotte with that - she’s the only one experienced with farm birds. There would also be a lot of cleaning, especially in the kitchen.” She hadn’t bolted yet, so I continued. “You would get room and board, of course, as well as weekly wages.”
“Helping in the kitchen, garden work, taking care of birds, and cleaning?” She repeated. “Is that all?” She tore off another piece of bread.
Only a full time job? I hadn’t expected that reaction. “Yes.”
“Not any other things?”
“Well, everyone pitches in. You might be asked to help with laundry, or inventory or something.”
Lili swallowed, then wiped her face with her sleeve. “Nothing with...your clients?”
I frowned. “I don’t imagine you would be dealing with clients at all, Lili.”
She stared at me suspiciously. “And you wouldn’t have me to visit them? At night?”
“Ewww, no,” I replied emphatically. “Never.”
She worked on a hunk of cheese and stared at me for a while. “What about that Mistress?” Lili said. “She wouldn’t make me?”
“No,” I repeated. “Mistress Anika runs a respectable establishment, Lili.”
“It’s short for Lilith,” she offered.
“That’s pretty. Do you prefer Lilith?”
She shook her head. Her mouth was full of apple slices. “Lili is good,” she mumbled after swallowing part of it.
“Careful, don’t choke,” I admonished her. God, I sounded like my mother. But Lili just nodded at me, unbothered.
“What about food?”
“That is the ‘board’ of the ‘room and board’ I mentioned earlier.” I leaned forward conspiratorially. “And in addition to the standard meals, as my assistant, you’ll be testing a lot of the food I make.” Her eyes brightened at that, but only briefly. She still seemed very suspicious. “Would you be willing to try it out here, just for a day, and see if you like it?” Lili chewed, her thin face pensive. “You could eat, get cleaned up if you like, and you would have your own bed in the room with the other girls.”
Lili hesitated, then gave me a small nod.
“Wonderful.” I smiled at her.
When Josefa-Maria returned, Lili was finally - temporarily - sated. “My lady,” the maid said, placing a pile of items on the table in front of the two of us. “Hello, Lili,” she said to the girl.
Lili greeted her cautiously.
“This is Josefa-Maria. She’s brought a few things for you,” I told her, motioning at the pile, “and she’s going to help you get settled in today while I’m gone.” Lili looked at the things, then at me again. “It’s alright. You can look at it.” Lili went to wipe her hands on her clothes, then paused self consciously, wiping them on one of the napkins instead.
Anika kept a repository of items from guests. Some things had been given as payment, some had been confiscated when their owners couldn’t pay their bills. Anika had perused this collection to find suitable garments for Lili, locating simple clothing, stockings, and shoes. She’d also included a few toiletry items. “You can keep those things whether you decide to work for me or not,” I informed Lili, gesturing at the bundle and turning her over to Josefa-Maria with an encouraging smile.
She would take Lili to the girls’ room. I hoped she would be comfortable enough to bathe and put on clean clothes. After that, Lili would go to Nichte, who was eagerly awaiting the arrival of an assistant.
Now it was time to get ready for my beach date...with my boyfriend.
I stood on the beach, shaking my head with a wry smile. A small party, sure, but this was hardly a simple outing. Ian’s surprise had included chartering a boat to take us to another nearby island. There, his valet Charles (and distant cousin, I remembered) had set up an area just off the beach, in an excellent leeward position. Charles and Gerta sat nearby while we snacked and relaxed, and now I was ready for some privacy. To my surprise, Ian was game. “There’s another beach I wish to show you,” he declared, grinning as he picked up a satchel and offered me his arm. “Do you think you can manage a short walk through the brush?”
I laughed at him; dressed in linen, boots, and my special sash-corset Matheo and I had designed, I was as casual as I possibly could be. “I would race you if it wasn’t so unseemly.”
He chuckled, then led me along a dirt path, likely a game trail, while we chitchatted about this and that.
After a while he stopped, then took my hand and brought me up beside him. “This, Isabelle, is my favorite place in the Somers Isles.”
“It’s beautiful,” I murmured, entranced. He had brought me to a tiny, secluded cove, and it was stunning. The area was sheltered by rock formations, and boasted several tide pools, as well as a miniature waterfall of sorts. I wandered around, delightedly exploring the place while he laid out a blanket, wine, and snacks. “Ian,” I said, salsaing my way back up to him. “I think we are very behind on kisses for the day.” He was perfectly happy to indulge me in making those up.
“What was that movement you performed?” Ian asked once we broke.
“Movement? Oh, do you mean this?” I did a few steps of the salsa again.
“I believe that is the one.”
“It’s a dance.”
“It’s quite novel. Would you teach it to me?”
I grinned at him. “You want me to teach you to salsa?” He nodded. “Alright.” I giggled, taking him in. “You should remove your coat first,” I advised, helpfully assisting him. He felt amazing through the linen shirt he wore underneath. And he smelled like lavender, of course. I admired his form as he carefully hung the garment from a branch; it was rare to get such a good view of him. His ass wasn’t covered by the coat this time, for one. God, he was absolutely delicious, standing there all tall and fit and gorgeous and I wanted to eat him up.
“This will be fun,” I said as he came back. “Here. Feet like this...”
He learned quickly, which was unsurprising considering that he had been learning how to dance since infancy. And was also fortunate, because we kept stopping to kiss. “This dance is rather...invigorating, Isabelle,” he told me. Invigorating was definitely a polite way of saying ‘lewd’.
“We can stop if you’re uncomfortable,” I offered conscientiously. “I had been thought of teaching you the tango after this, but...”
“But what,” he urged.
“The tango is even more carnal,” I said looking up at him. And I was going to teach him American style. Very close.
He looked very thoughtful for a moment. “I believe that I am brave enough to persevere,” Ian said, the barest hint of a smile on his lips.
“His Majesty’s Navy is very lucky to have such a brave and courageous officer as you--” I teased until he cut me off with another kiss.
After several rounds, I was tired, hot, and needed a break. We sat on the blanket, drinking wine and admiring the beauty of the cove. My boyfriend kept eyeing the water plaintively; I kept urging him to get his feet wet, but he was reluctant for some time.
“I am going to venture into the water,” Ian finally announced. “It is unfortunate that you cannot join me.”
So that was what had been keeping him. I sat up. “Who says I can’t join you?”
“Isabelle,” he began, looking at me as though I had suggested turning into a penguin and then flying away, “you’ll ruin your clothing.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “There are preparations I can make, Ian.” He stared at me curiously, and I shook my head. “Go ahead. I’ll join you soon.” While Ian took off his boots and removed his stockings, I reached into my pockets and pulled out several long, sturdy strips of fabric. I didn’t have real skirt hikes, so these would have to do. After working the strips through my waistband, I tied the ends together securely, fixed my sleeves, and took off my footwear before heading into the water after Ian.
My kingdom for a camera, I thought, barely suppressing a giggle at the look on his face when he saw me heading into the water.
“What?” I blinked at him, the definition of blamelessness.
His face was bright red. “You-you, your,” He stammered for a while, staring down. “Your legs!”
I had tied my skirts up to just above the knee; you would have thought I had stripped naked. Besides, he’d already squeezed my ass.
“They’re only legs, Ian. Don’t be a square,” I teased, turning to wade in carefully. The water felt wonderful. When I looked over at him, he was still staring. I laughed, then splashed him with a handful of water. I expected him to dodge back out of the way, but I caught him full in the face.
“Oh, no!” I was still laughing as I tried to wipe the water from his face; Ian was just shaking his head and blinking at me. He caught my hands, still blinking water out of his long, dark lashes. “I’m sorry,” I said, going up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “I didn’t mean to hit you in the face--”
“Marry me, Isabelle.”
I must have gotten water in my ears, I thought, staring at him in confusion. “What did you say?” I tilted my head to the side, but my ears seemed quite clear.
“I asked you to be my wife,” he said.
I gaped at him. Close your mouth, Isabelle. You’ll let in flies. “I do not understand.”
His eyes widened. “But of course! It nearly escaped me. You mentioned that this is an essential aspect of a California marriage proposal,” he said, and withdrew a ring. An honest to god engagement ring.
“We barely know each other,” I said automatically. And when had he had time to get a ring‽
“I know that I love you,” Ian replied, his voice deep and intimate as he held my gaze. “I have never been more certain of anything. Do you love me, Isabelle?”
“Yes.” I didn’t need to think about it.
“That is all I need. Marry me, Isabelle.”
I wanted to say yes. So I did.
“Yes,” I said, beaming at him. “I’ll marry you.”
Ian erupted with a cheer of delight and scooped me up, kissing me as he twirled us around in the water. We were both laughing between kisses as we collapsed on the blanket, and I pulled him over me, getting him as close as I could. At some point he’d lost his hair tie, giving me the opportunity to run my hands through his dark curls.
He drew back briefly. “We must make this official,” Ian said, his eyes sparkling as he held up the ring. He slipped it on the correct finger and it fit perfectly.
It had a delicate gold band and one very large, very familiar colorless princess cut diamond that somehow looked even larger now that it was set. “Wow,” I breathed. It felt surreal.
Ian pressed his lips to mine and I melted into him. We had never kissed like this before. I was thrilled that he was letting his hands wander, and far more than he had in any of our previous makeout sessions. I felt him start to run his hand up my leg and pause momentarily. “You’re not wearing any stockings,” Ian announced. No kidding, Lieutenant Commander. “Your skin is astonishingly smooth.” And then, “you’re wearing a knife!” Ian pulled back, looking down at me with a pleased smile.
An interesting reaction to discovering a weapon strapped to someone’s thigh. “...And you appreciate that?” I hazarded.
“I appreciate your preparedness.” Hand on my thigh, he paused, clearly distracted. “...I am certain I will appreciate all I find here,” Ian murmured.
I shivered, pulling his face back to mine. The feel of his hands slowly meandering along my upper thighs, then hips, then cupping my rear, was driving me wild. I kept wiggling, arching up underneath him, trying to get his hands everywhere.
“Steady, Isabelle,” he drawled, then slid his hand between my legs. Finally. I was ecstatic.
His hand stopped. “You’re completely smooth here!” Ian announced, shocked. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, I was very amused at the look of wonderment on his face. “Just like your legs! Did you do this to yourself?”
“Yes,” I mumbled, wiggling self-consciously.
“I am not making a complaint,” he said absently. His fingers were still softly gliding back and forth, his eyes narrowed as though he was trying to envision what he was touching beneath my skirts. “It’s quite novel,” he added.
It was maddening was what it was.
I groaned in frustration. The temptation to just show him! rang in my head, but I had spent enough time in 1649 to know that would be...a bit much. He’d looked like he was going to pass out from seeing my knees, for crying out loud. I wiggled my hips a little, and Ian leaned down to kiss me. My arms wound around his neck and shoulders, keeping him as close to me as possible.
Then I gasped; Ian’s fingers had finally stopped admiring how ‘smooth’ I was and delved deeper. First one, then two of his long, graceful fingers began to slowly slide into me, gently exploring and tantalizing me while I arched and moaned underneath him, Ian teasing me with kisses all the while. I whimpered his name as he coaxed me closer and closer to a crescendo. With one final curl of his fingers I crested, crying out for him as my fingers gripped his sleeve. He shifted over me, and I felt his weight bearing me back into the blanket.
Finally! “Yes, Ian, please,” I moaned again. God, just fucking mount me already. He groaned, then pulled away, his mouth separating from mine. “Ian,” I whimpered for him, pulling him back to me by his clothing.
He pulled away.
He pulled away???
My brain was still upside down, but there he was, moving away from me! Then he got up from the blanket.
“I require a moment, Isabelle,” he told me, then turned and walked some ways down the beach.
What the hell, Ian? “What the hell?” I mumbled to myself, staring after his retreating form. “Nooooo,” I whined after him, allowing myself a dramatic-yet-heartfelt collapse back onto the blanket.
He walked into the water a few paces and looked for all the world as though he was attempting to take a cold shower, via his feet. In the Atlantic. Did I mention how hot it was today?
Hello, Ian? I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m here and willing! Don’t compose yourself - come back here and give in! Hello?
When he finally returned, his face was flushed and he actually looked upset.
“What’s wrong?” I stood up. But like, slowly. It took me a minute to get my feet properly underneath me.
“Please, forgive me. I never should have allowed things to go so far.”
“Honestly, Ian, I was hoping things were going to go further.”
Ian flushed even more deeply. “I never should have taken advantage. We are fortunate that I had the restraint to remove myself when I did. Else-” He stopped abruptly, but he hardly needed to finish. If I hadn’t stopped then I’d be fucking you on the beach right now.
I sank back down on the blanket and helped myself to a healthy amount of wine. “You know I’m not a virgin, yes?” I asked him after finally working my way up to it. The quick alcohol to my system had helped.
“I had rather gathered,” he said dryly, though there was a keen brightness in his eyes. “Neither am I, if that information interests you.”
No kidding. I chuckled despite myself. “Then I don’t understand...” No. No way. “Wait, are you telling me that you won’t, you know, go all the way with me until we’re married?”
“I am capable of great patience.” Ian shot me a look that made me involuntarily kegel, and all I could think was he really shouldn’t look at me like that if he wanted things to stay respectable. “Six weeks,” Ian suggested.
I nearly lost my eyebrows. “Six weeks‽”
Ian blinked at me, taken aback. “What is the custom in your kingdom of California?”
A year or three of dating. Sex before marriage. Meeting each other’s friends and families. A few weekend trips away. And then you had to plan the wedding. Seven weeks after meeting? That was far too quick.
“Well,” I began slowly, “it usually takes about a year to arrange things--”
His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A year? You are jesting, surely.”
“I am not.” I assured him. “But things are very different there.”
After several rounds of discussion, we settled on a compromise that we were both reasonably satisfied with: four months. While that would have still been far too soon for convention at home, it seemed like ample time to get to know my intended in our current circumstances. The locals, on the other hand, would consider it a very long engagement.
“In four months, you will be Lady Isabelle Coventry,” he said, giving me a sweet kiss.
Gerta was pacing and wringing her hands when we reappeared at the beach. “Lady!” She exclaimed, rushing over to me. “You are well?” Gerta gave Ian a long, suspicious look before turning back to me.
“I am perfect.” I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers, proudly displaying my ring. “I am engaged to be married!”
Gerta blanched, while Thomas Charles came over and delivered the proper polite congratulations. It was evident that it was not a surprise to him.
Talk about fast. This was way more than a whirlwind romance, I thought as the boat returned to the main island. My heart was still racing from the excitement of everything that had happened, and I was still trying to get my wits about me.
Anne and I had touched down less than ten days ago, and I was already living out a personal fantasy from a historical romance novel. Complete with my own restaurant. Even if it, too, was historical.
Anne. Patience, I counseled myself. I would bring it up with him again soon.
“Lieutenant Commander?” I held up my hand, admiring the beautiful ring once again. My beautiful ring. “How did you get the right size?”
He gave me a knowing look, raising an eyebrow slightly. “You recall our visit to Mr. Vaisman?” Of course. I nodded, and a small, self-satisfied smile came over his face. “Do you also recall trying on a number of pieces of jewelry?”
“Yes,” I said slowly. The shop had lots of pretty bracelets, rings, and... “You got my ring size then?” He nodded, and I stared back at him. “When did you decide to ask?”
“Hmmm. Why don’t you tell me what the right answer is, and I’ll say that?” Ian replied.
“Cheeky.” I smirked at him.
Upon docking, Gerta immediately scrambled out of the boat and turned to me, red-faced and sweating as she handed me my parasol.
I paused to look at her. “Gerta?”
“Captain said no men!” She shook her head frantically and launched into a speech in German. “Lady, I must go. Goodbye.” With that, she curtsied and took off as fast as she could go, leaving Ian and I staring after her in bewilderment.
“I would not have thought her capable of such speed,” Ian said.
“What on Earth just happened?” I wondered aloud, watching her figure recede into the distance.
“While my Prussian is limited, I believe she is afraid of your captain’s reaction to our betrothal. It seems she was instructed to keep you rather secluded. I cannot imagine your captain truly thought that would be a simple task.” The fond look he gave me belied his phrasing.
“I don’t imagine she thought we would be here for this long,” I replied slowly. “Anne only meant to come here to sell the guns, and then we were going to be off.”
He smiled, taking my hands. “Then it seems I owe Closer To You My God Cowlishaw a debt for inciting your captain to enjoy our hospitality.”
I stepped up to him, carefully running my hands over his coat. I could feel his heart pounding as I smoothed away a few imaginary wrinkles and picked off several non-existent pieces of fluff from his impeccable garment.
“Ian,” I began quietly, looking up into his eyes, “I need to see her. Just a brief visit. Please.” I moved onto going over his shoulders and sleeves - still making eye contact - and the lieutenant commander groaned. I dropped my voice to a whisper for his ears only. “Please, Ian?”
Full admission: I was doing a fair amount of subtle eyelash batting and understated pouting while gazing up into his eyes and it probably wasn’t entirely fair.
Fuller admission: I was being absolutely shameless.
“You understand that prisoners do not typically receive guests? It is meant to be a time of reflection and correction. And I hardly need remind you of the expectations for a lady of your status,” Ian began, attempting to look stern. Yeah, I definitely knew all of that stuff. Definitely. I nodded demurely. “I will need to make arrangements, and it will take some time...” he looked at me hesitantly, and I did my best to appear innocent and guileless. But geez, how many arrangements did he need to make? It wasn’t like they needed to check my security clearance. “However, I give you my word, Isabelle. I will permit you to visit your captain.”
“Soon?” I added a touch more eyelash batting.
“Lady Isabelle,” he began, then paused. I looked up at him curiously. “Soon,” he said, and left it at that. I was really going to have to nail him down with something more specific. “Do you have any interest in coffee?” He asked abruptly.
I was still pretty amped from the whole engagement thing, but the idea of coffee was almost always appealing, and the coffeehouse was only a brief walk away. “Only if you’ll join me for a drink afterwards. In my room.” I winked at Ian and he chuckled in response.
“You are a born negotiator, beloved.”
Beloved? My cheeks warmed with pleasure.
“Lady Isabelle!” Lady Aaoka’s voice greeted me as we entered the busy coffeehouse, and I turned to see her waving a fan next to Lord Talbot. They weren’t alone, either; the Wallingtons and Lavignes were sitting with them. Ian gave his valet instructions, and the man went to handle our order.
“Did you know about this?” I murmured to Ian after greeting the others. He shot me a faintly guilty look.
“Two drinks?” He offered.
I scoffed. “You’ll spend the night,” I countered. His eyes widened in alarm. “I mean it. You know I didn’t want to socialize with people today,” I chided him gently. “You have my word that I won’t attempt to seduce you, if that makes you feel better.”
“Very well,” Ian said, his reluctance palpable. “You will surely be the death of me,” he added dryly, guiding me towards the table.
Lady Alice let out a squeal of delight that turned the heads of every single person in the place. “Lady Isabelle!” She exclaimed, pointing at my hand.
“Oh my--” Lady Wallington turned to Ian, dark eyes bright with excitement. “Is it true? Are you to be married?”
I was beaming, and so was Ian. “The Lady Isabelle has indeed done me the honor of agreeing to be my wife,” he announced.
They actually erupted in cheers. The ladies pulled me down with them, exclaiming about all manner of wedding details. What would I wear? What would we serve? What sort of favors would we give out? Where would we hold it?
The one thing that everyone agreed upon was that Graham Andrews had the only estate large enough for the ceremony.
Large enough? I had been envisioning a nice, simple wedding - it wasn’t as though I knew a hundred guests here to invite. But the more the others talked, the more I understood that this would be a massive social event. They all agreed that it would be the event of the year, if not the decade. Of course. Nothing could ever be simple.
I hadn’t even gotten a whole day to enjoy being engaged before being inundated with reality.
“Ladies, gentlemen, I regret that I need to escort my bride back to her inn to rest,” Ian disclosed to the group. “She has had a very tiring day.” Evidently, he had taken note of my growing dismay.
“Indeed. I am quite in need of rest,” I agreed, grateful for his prompting.
The Lavignes were also ready to head out, and were heading in the same direction we were. Lady Alice informed me that she was heading to Matheo’s for a fitting; Richard seemed lovingly resigned to accompanying her. She linked arms with me, cheerfully admiring my ring and enthusing about wedding ideas while the gentlemen chatted behind us. Lady Alice was practically taking on the role of town crier; anyone passing us would certainly be informed of my impending nuptials with the lieutenant commander. As usual, the passersby gawked at the four of us in our finery. I wondered if the others noticed. I barely did anymore.
Ian and I parted from the Lavignes near Matheo’s, and strolled to the inn, basking in the sun and each other’s company.
“Lieutenant Commander!” The pale, buxom redhead from the cathouse down the street stood at the door of my private entrance. Roisin.
As usual, she was staring at me. Staring at me like I had personally pissed in her cornflakes. Like I had pissed in her cornflakes while making eye contact and then served them to her.
“What the fuck?” I muttered as we drew closer.
Ian, who had first paled, then flushed, didn’t look particularly amused either.
“Lieutenant Commander Coventry,” she said in a thick Irish accent, performing an outrageous curtsey that was clearly designed to show off her ample cleavage, “I have come to congratulate you and your bride.” She laughed, then raised an imaginary glass to us before sauntering over, putting an extra wiggle in her hips. “I thought you might use this entrance, Sir. Wilhelm had it built for just such purposes, and I know how fond you are of rooms over taverns.” She winked at him, and my breath caught in my throat. “One whore to another, Sir, I thought you might want to know that I visited the owner of this establishment too. Walked through this very same door. Just as you’re doing now--”
Before I could even think of a response, Ian had taken her by the arm and blown a whistle, summoning half a dozen soldiers within seconds. He handed her off to one of them with orders to have her thrown in a cell for the night.
“No!” Incensed, the woman started screaming, struggling desperately to get away. “Ian, don’t do this, please! Lieutenant Commander, please!”
‘Ian’? I looked at him, gauging his reaction. But Ian gave no sign that he even heard her; she might as well have been yelling at the ocean.
“Are you well, my love?”
“Mmmmhmmm.” I nodded absently, craning to look around him. Roisin had been upgraded to two escorts, one on each arm, and was now being frogmarched down the street, all while still shrieking and fighting violently to escape. She was attracting quite the audience.
I glanced at Ian appraisingly. You agree to marry someone and then you find out they routinely carry a whistle.
“Isabelle?”
“Yes,” I said. “Let’s get those drinks, shall we?”
Mojitos, I decided after ensuring the inner doors were locked. I took my time making the (iceless) cocktails to think; Ian was also unusually quiet. I handed his off with a quick kiss, and got a small, grateful smile in return. I gave him a moment to sip before I spoke again.
“So. What would you like to tell me about what just happened?”
The expression on his face declared that he would rather insert himself into a wood-chipper.
“She called you Ian,” I prompted. “And referred to herself as - and let me make sure I’m remembering this correctly - oh yes, ‘a whore’.” A thick silence filled the room.
“She is ill mannered,” he said finally. “Please, Isabelle, this is most uncomfortable--”
“You’re telling me! She was lying in wait outside of my door and I want to know why,” I demanded. “Tell me what there is between you.”
He frowned distastefully. “It is a vulgar topic of conversation. It would not be appropriate--”
“You must be joking,” I snapped at him. The lieutenant commander fidgeted under my penetrating gaze. “Would you just spit it out already?”
“Spit?”
I was going to scream. “I mean, would you please get on with telling me, whatever it is! Please, just speak plainly.” He stared at me like a deer in the middle of a six lane highway at night. “You can start with her name, if that helps.”
“Roisin,” he said finally. “I- we had a....financial accord.”
“You paid her for her time and affections,” I reiterated crossly.
“Yes.” Ian nodded, stiff and red-faced, and forced himself to continue. “It wouldn’t do for an officer to consort with the same woman his underlings visited, so I...had her set up in a room.”
“Over a tavern,” I supplied helpfully, and he nodded, swallowing.
My husband-to-be had kept a mistress in an apartment. I lit a joint from the candle and wandered to the window.
It was a different world here, I thought. This entire place had a Madonna/whore complex, and it wasn’t as though you could just hook up at a bar. There were few options for casual sex in this century, and Ian had been on this island for years. I was trying really really hard to be logical about it, but I was feeling anything but.
I whirled on him. “Have you visited her since we’ve started seeing each other?”
“Of course not,” Ian frowned with distaste. “I haven’t been there since before your arrival. As a matter of fact, I wrote ending the arrangement several days ago.”
Oh. I was mildly mollified. Mildly. I studied him for a long moment before speaking again. “So it was business only?” He gave another nod. “Does she know that those are your feelings on the subject?”
Ian frowned. “She must be aware - it is the nature of her profession.”
...Fair enough. Still... “Had you given her the impression that there was any more to your interactions?”
He shook his head, confused. “We do not see each other otherwise.”
That wasn’t quite what I meant, but he was being so damned delicate. “I’m wondering if she’s in love with you, Ian.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do you kiss her on the mouth?”
He dropped his eyes, shifting uncomfortably. “My God, Isabelle, the things you ask.”
“Yes, I’m an absolute terror,” I replied dryly. And yeah, I definitely clocked his lack of an answer. “How long have you been...involved with her?” The length of time it took him to respond dried my mouth out. “Ian?” I prompted.
“A little over two years,” he said.
“Two years‽” I stared at him with wide eyes. He had been sleeping with her for over two years and then ended things, just like that? “...You ended things several days ago? When was that, exactly?”
“The morning I delivered those books to you,” he said, looking at me meaningfully.
The day after I arrived. Well, no one would ever accuse Ian of being indecisive.
So.... he had ended things with this woman via note after over two years - the 17th century equivalent of breaking up via text message - and the very next day she had seen us together. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to calculate how that had gone over.
“I suppose I should be relieved, on some level,” I said, attempting to distract myself by going through the items I’d brought back from the boat. “Now I know why she’s been giving me such weird, angry looks every time I see her.” And here I was, thinking that I couldn’t have possibly done anything to her. It was no wonder that she hated me.
“Still.” I busied myself with watering my plant clippings in the window. “I thought having her locked up was a bit much. Overkill, actually.”
“No, Isabelle,” Ian said firmly. “She is fortunate that it was not worse. Such disrespect, particularly unprovoked, cannot be tolerated.”
“I could have handled her.” Besides - it hardly seemed unprovoked now that I had more information.
“She is beneath you,” he declared. I bit back the dirty joke I was thinking - god forbid he have a stroke or something - and offered him the joint instead. “After that unfortunate incident at the Wallingtons,” Ian continued, scowling, “I was certainly not going to allow the opportunity for another.”
Puff, puff, pass. Charming, gorgeous, and I hadn’t even had to teach him smoke etiquette. His eyes met mine as he handed it over, filled with worry.
“I’m not angry about Roisin,” I said, topping off his drink. “I’m sure you’ve had a number of...lovers.” I kissed him on the cheek for good measure, then took another drag before passing it back to him. “But it would be great if she could stay away from me. Without being imprisoned, of course,” I added for clarity, removing my shoes. “You remember that you’ve agreed to spend the night?”
“Isabelle,” he said, giving me that piercing gaze, “surely you understand that that is no longer an option?”
“But you promised!” I glared back at him, my arms crossed.
“That was before my presence here was announced to all of St. George's.” Ian shook his head, his expression troubled. “Spending the night here was already a risk to your reputation. It is untenable now.”
“Well...I think that is stupid,” I said, then stomped my foot. Yes, it was the behavior of a petulant child. No, I didn’t care, I was pissed. “So she gets to completely ruin my night now?”
Ian closed his eyes, sighing heavily. “I will make this up to you, Isabelle.”
I took a deep breath. “One favor. To be named at a later date,” I demanded.
Ian hesitated while giving me a very long, assessing gaze, then nodded slowly.
“And you’ll still have two drinks?” He nodded again. “Excellent.” I nodded back at him, then went behind the screen to change.
“However, I stand by what I said earlier.” His voice was stern.
“You mean that you’re not going to bed me before the wedding.” I said bitterly, and he cleared his throat.
“Yes, Isabelle.”
Ugh. How could he stand there being so fuckable and just refuse to fuck me?
Groaning in frustration, I slipped on my grey silk dressing gown and belted it before coming out. Ian was more casual as well. He’d removed his coat, sword, and boots, stripping back down to the white linen shirt and form-fitting navy trousers that looked so good on him.
Damn it. He looked good enough to eat.
Ian looked me up and down appreciatively, then refilled my glass. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and paused. Even though I was covered, the robe clung enough to outline my curves. We downed our drinks while drinking each other in.
“What if we only kiss while standing?” I asked him. Ian nodded wordlessly, his face full of passion as he took my glass to set it down with his own. I wrapped my arms around him fervently, thrilled that we were alone together at last. Even if he wouldn’t have sex with me.
“I love you,” I whispered, which, judging from his response, was a potent aphrodisiac. Suddenly, his hands were all over me, and he had me pressed against the wall.
“You should know, Isabelle,” he said in a husky voice, “if it wasn’t for my strict code of honor, I’d have been under your skirts already. You cannot imagine how appealing your current attire is.” He ran his fingertips along my wrists, peeking out of the bottoms of my sleeves, and I shivered. “It is quite revealing as well.”
“But I’m completely covered,” I murmured back.
Ian ran his hands over the soft silk. “No,” he whispered into my ear, as his hands slid down my back, over my waist, down my hips and finally between me and the wall to cup my backside, “you aren’t.”
He leaned down to kiss me again, still firmly holding my rear. I let my hands roam over him, admiring the feel of his back and shoulders, then winding my way to his arms and chest. Ian disentangled himself slightly with a groan after things started getting too heated.
I took a deep breath and stepped out from the wall. “Food?”
“Yes.” Ian rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled, then sat down heavily in one of the chairs.
Once in the parlor I paused. Just on the other side of the door, I could hear sniffling. I made a quick tray of food for Ian and took it to him, closing the bedroom door as I went to check on the source of the sounds in the hall.
“Hello?” I called softly through the door.
More sniffling. “Lady Isabelle?” It was Lili.
“I’m going to open the door,” I said, giving her time to move in case she was leaning against it (which it sounded like she was). I paused when I pulled it open, getting my first look at her since this morning.
Lili wore a long, simple dress of dark green cotton instead of the ragged tunic she always wore, and she was also wearing shoes. Her skin - which it turned out was a dark tan or a light brown - had been scrubbed clean, and her wavy, dark brown hair hung to just above her shoulders. She looked like an entirely different person. “Are you feeling alright?”
She shrugged; I’m fine. It was an oddly familiar gesture. “Josefa-Maria helped me. Gertrude did my hair,” she added, patting it self-consciously. “We had to cut it.”
“It looks lovely,” I assured her. “And it will grow back.” She nodded. “Are your clothes and shoes comfortable?” Lili paused then nodded hesitantly; she liked those a lot. “Did you get enough to eat today?” She nodded again, but accepted the bread and cheese I pushed to her anyway. “Why were you in the hallway?’
“To talk to you,” she said, her mouth full.
“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” I reminded her. “What did you want to talk to me about, Lili?”
“Nichte was angry with me. Only earlier though.” Lili glanced up at me timidly. I gave her an encouraging look, pushing over more food while I waited for her to continue.
Nichte had given her a break and some food; intent on sharing her bounty with a friend, Lili had lost track of time. The cook had scolded her soundly, then put her back to work.
“It won’t happen again, my lady. I thought I should tell you, though. In case you don’t wish me to work here, now.”
I swallowed a yawn. “Did you complete your assignments?”
She nodded, then launched into a recitation of the various kitchen, garden, and other chores. Nichte had also assigned her extra things to make up for her missed time.
“Good. It is important that you be here when you’re expected to be,” I told her gently, “but mistakes happen. Thank you for letting me know.” I paused. “That’s not why you were in the hall, though, was it?” She shook her head. “Is something wrong with your bed? Or the room?”
Lili hesitated, then nodded...sort of.
Feeling impatient, I took a long drink of water. It had been another long day, and I just wanted to go snuggle up against Ian.
“It feels strange in there,” she finally admitted, her voice low.
Oh. “It’s very different from where you’ve been sleeping?” I hazarded.
Lili nodded. “I was going to sleep in your doorway,” she whispered.
“I can’t imagine that would be comfortable. And it’s noisy out there, with the tavern down the stairs.” Lili just looked at the floor, silently agreeing. “Do you have any idea where you might like to sleep, Lili?” There was a perfectly good bed downstairs, but if she didn’t want to sleep there, I wasn’t going to push it.
“The kitchen,” Lili replied at once. “It’s nice and warm against the wall, and there’s two doors-” she paused, wiping her mouth with a cloth. “I wouldn’t be the way, my lady. I promise. Nichte’s already finished cooking for the day.”
“Alright, Lili. But you understand that she comes in to start food preparation for the day quite early, yes?” She shrugged. “Fine. I hope you’ll consider trying out the girls’ room one night, though,” I told her. “Wait. Take this.” I handed her a blanket from the chest.
“Thank you, my lady,” Lili said, giving me a small smile before leaving.
Feeling completely drained, I locked the door behind her and headed back into the bedroom. Ian had already polished off most of the food and was relaxing on the loveseat with a glass of wine, but stood when I entered - to my mild annoyance.
“Was that your ward?”
“Lili isn’t my ward. She’s more like an apprentice.”
“So you haven’t provided her with clothing and other comforts?” I shrugged; of course I had - those were only the basics. He continued. “Or hired someone to teach her reading, writing, and arithmetic?”
“It would be quite difficult for her to follow my instructions if she can’t read them. And math is important for cooking.”
Ian raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, handing me a glass of wine instead. I took it, then sat on the loveseat, patting the space beside me. “I have a confession to make.” I could feel his eyes on me as he sat, but I couldn’t meet them. “I’m jealous.” There. I’d said it. I drank some wine.
“Jealous? Whatever of?”
I threw him a glare.
“Heavens, Isabelle. You cannot be serious.” It was evident that he thought I was being ridiculous, which just made me mad all over again.
I stood up - and he of course did as well. “I am very serious, and don’t you dare mock me! We are in love, engaged to be married and you are unwilling to-” I gestured meaningfully “- however, you have paid her for the pleasure of lying beneath you.” I glared at him.
Ian, processing my words, looked appalled at my perspective. “I was a customer, paying for a service,” he protested, sounding for all the world as though he didn’t understand how his baker could have gotten the wrong idea.
“Sure, Lieutenant Commander, you were just like any other customer,” I gestured at everything about him to emphasize how absurd that was, “and I’m sure she was gritting her teeth through every minute of it,” I snapped. “That’s why she accosted us outside, because of how regular it all was between the two of you. I’m sure she’s just grieving the loss of your business!” Ian gazed at me, taken aback by my vehemence as he attempted to process and respond to my words.
He paced for a few steps. “Our customs view this courtship process very differently,” Ian began thoughtfully.
“Evidently,” I muttered.
“I will have no one speak in truth that I dishonored you,” he clarified, and Lord Leigh’s open insinuations rang through my mind. “Not to mention the risk of an illegitimate child.” Well, that last wasn’t really a risk, but I couldn’t exactly say ‘hey Ian, no worries, I’m on magic anti-baby pills’ could I? “On this subject - it would be best if I return to the fort now.”
“We are in the middle of a discussion, and I am far from satisfied--” I turned to look at him. “Are you trying to avoid talking to me about this?”
Ian gave me a very gentle kiss. “Isabelle, I am simply trying to avoid social disgrace.”
“I am still jealous and upset,” I informed him in a formal tone.
He sighed. “If you would like, I could have her transported. You would never have to see her again.”
“Transported? You mean, like sent to the colonies or Australia or someplace?”
He nodded. “I am not familiar with Australia, but I could look into arranging it. Would you prefer that?”
“No, Ian, I would not. If you recall, I thought having her imprisoned was excessive.” Admittedly, the pettier parts of me were thrilled.
He scoffed. “She’ll be released in the morning. A mild lesson to remind her of her place,” Ian added quietly, an angry cloud crossing his face.
Once again, I bit back a snappy retort, choosing my wine instead of violence. Yup. Definitely still feeling jealous.
“What would it take to remedy your feelings of upset?”
“Other than you bedding me, you mean?” I asked boldly.
Ian looked like he might faint. “Yes, Isabelle, other than that,” he said, rubbing his jaw.
Suddenly I realized what Lili’s shrugs reminded me of. Or who, rather. It was exactly the sort of response that Anne routinely gave. “I want to see my s-- captain. Tomorrow.”
“My God,” he swore, looking at me admiringly. “Very well, my love. Tomorrow.”
“Naturally,” he said, then swore under his breath, giving me a look that was equal parts frustration and admiration. “Very well, my love. Tomorrow.”
Tomorrow.
Though it felt longer, Anne had only been locked up for a few days, I reminded myself, with regular food deliveries and respectable guards. I wondered how this stay compared to her previous ones.
I wondered how she would react when I told her about Ian.
How could I, Isabelle the Responsible, possibly be in love and engaged to someone after only a week? It was madness.
But oh my god, I did love him! I was absolutely head over heels in love with Ian Alexander Coventry and I was going to marry him- a real sign that I was well and truly through the looking-glass. Even if the entire world did melt away when we were together. Even if my very soul caught fire every time we kissed. Even if I was seriously, madly, completely in love with him.
This was exactly the sort of thing I would have normally talked Anne’s ear off about.
Anne. My platonic-soulmate, my sister, my best friend, my ride or die. And come to find out, I didn’t even know who the hell she was. My sister, the Renaissance criminal. My best friend, the pirate. My sister who had snatched me up out of my life under the falsest of pretenses. Anne, who had coldly rejected my desperate request for a simple apology. Not to mention how she had almost smashed my head open with my own rolling pin.
Bitch Captain of the Seven Seas, indeed. And to think I had been offended over the ‘bitch’ part. I was such a fucking fool.
I know what I did. I did what I did. I would do it every time.
Maybe we would be able to talk, despite the horrors of everything. I’d check on her injuries, tell her that I’d finished the arms deal, and we’d discuss how to handle her sentence. I twisted the engagement ring around my finger.
And then I would tell her about him. Ian, who had made me feel secure from the moment we had met. Ian, who had kindly comforted me after an explosion, who had taken the time to teach me how to dance and how to use money, to help me arrange an entire business deal simply because I wanted to spare my captain from a flogging she had quite possibly earned. Ian, who knew this world and moved through it with an uncommon ease. Ian, who had charged soldiers around this island to keep an eye out for my safety - and would never put me in danger.. Lieutenant Commander Coventry, the upstanding, handsome gentleman soldier who wanted to marry me.
...Lieutenant Commander Coventry, who was, technically, my sister’s jailor, I realized with dismay. Ian was only enforcing the law, but I wasn’t sure she’d see it that way. Maybe she’d feel differently once I explained the exceptions he’d made for her (a seasoned criminal). Then again as someone who had spent time in this facility before, she might already be aware of the change in treatment during this stay, and the reasons for it.
In perfect keeping with recent events, I’m engaged.
I’ve hired a young assistant here at the Sea Wind - I still need to figure out a name! - and I’ll be teaching her some things. The chickens will arrive today, and we’ll be starting the garden this week. At least gardening is something that ladies are allowed to do.
I have accepted a number of social invitations out of obligation, but to my surprise, I’m actually looking forward to attending most of them. Somehow, it feels like I’ve stumbled into building a very promising life here. Perhaps these next few months won’t be so bad.
Tomorrow I go to Fort St. Catherine.
♥️ Lady Isabelle Coventry
♥️ Isabelle Elisabeth Deveraux St. Germaine Coventry
♥️ Izzy D. St. G. C.
Talk to LCC about Roisin - severance.
I stared at the page. I had a lot of things I needed to talk to Ian about.
