His Spoilt Lady (10 page)

John brushed
down his knees and rose, but he chose to ignore her question.
Linnett had had a shock today, and she needed some time to adjust.
John considered himself a kind man, and he hoped his wife would
settle down and accept her fate.

“I shall return
the tray to the galley. We dine with the captain at six o’clock;
your clothing for the voyage is in the trunk on the left. Please be
ready at ten minutes to the hour; I shall return for you then.”

John collected
up the tea things, but he turned at the doorway and spoke quietly.
“I think it would be wise for you to ponder the outcome of our
disagreement before our marriage, young lady, and try to achieve a
more biddable nature from now on,”

John carefully
closed the door and left the cabin.

Linnett sank
back down upon the chair and stuck out her tongue at the closed
door. She was livid; how dare he threaten her, the pompous oaf! He
is your husband now, pointed out a little voice of reason. Yes, but
not by my choice, and oh! He was so...o...o smug! Linnett thought
of him earlier, lying on the floor wet and dishevelled, and she
giggled aloud. That had dented his damn male pride alright. Then
she remembered his instructions to be ready at ten to six. Very
well, she mused, I shall be ready, but he might not be.

If my clothes
are in the left chest then, Linnett reasoned, his must be in the
right chest. She ran over to the wooden trunks and lifted the lid
of the chest on the right. Yes it was full of his clothes all very
fine she noted as she fingered the rich soft materials. It did seem
such a pity to mar such beautiful clothes. Linnett pondered a
moment, chewing her bottom lip indecisively, but John surely
deserved this after the way he had treated her!

She went to the
chest of drawers and fetched her small nail scissors. Returning to
the trunk, Linnett knelt down, and, lifting out a shirt, she held
up the garment by the sleeve, hesitated for a second and then cut.
From every shirt in the trunk, Linnett cut off one arm and then
stuffed all the loose arms into the trunk’s bottom before folding
the clothes neatly back on the top. A small shiver of misgiving ran
down her spine briefly as she thought of what John’s reaction might
be. However, the deed was now done, and after all, what could he
possibly do about it?

A brief memory
of their encounter in the coach came into mind, but hastily Linnett
dismissed it. After all, she reasoned, John had not reacted over
the water incident earlier, had he? She was a married woman now,
and her husband had to show her due respect. Anyway, by the time he
discovered the deed, she would be safely amongst the Captain and
his officers. Linnett then went to her own trunk and pulled out
dresses, finally deciding on a pretty blue dress with front lacing
and pale gold sleeves and under skirt. This dress had always drawn
compliments on her hair, its soft golden colour matching her hair’s
shade perfectly.

When John
returned, it was already a quarter before six. He had spent the
afternoon up on the deck, watching the crew as they handled the
ship, taking her far out to sea. John re-met the first officer,
Duncan Snow, a fresh-faced young man with fair hair and freckles.
He had liked him immediately on his voyage over to England and was
glad to reacquaint himself with the man. Duncan had been with
Captain Pettigrew since he was a lad and looked upon the jovial
captain almost as a father.

Duncan was not
in fact, as young as he looked; he was thirty and had a wife and
two young daughters back in Plymouth. Duncan had accompanied John
back to the cabin to make Linnett’s acquaintance. If Linnett was
surprised by his arrival, she did not show it, inclining her head
graciously upon John’s introduction and holding out her hand.
Duncan gallantly took it and raised her hand to his lips, saying,
“Your servant, ma’am.” He was stunned by her beauty.

“If there is
anything at all you need, please do not hesitate to ask. Tomorrow I
shall bring one of the cabin boys to meet you. He will be your
servant for the voyage and will carry out chores for you and run
any messages or errands you care to send him on,” Duncan said.

“Why, how kind.
I thank you, Mr. Snow, how very thoughtful of you. My husband
seemed to forget my need of a maid on this journey. It is so
refreshing to meet a man who thinks of these things.”

John cocked an
eyebrow, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, most
kind of you, Snow. Perhaps you would like to accompany my wife in
to dine? I need to change but will follow on directly.”

Linnett
hurriedly took Duncan’s arm, thankful for the excuse to be gone
before John opened his clothes chest. “I would be most delighted.
Mrs. Foster, shall we?” Duncan held the door, and Linnett swept
out.

They made their
way to the captain’s quarters, where two other officers stood
conversing with Captain Pettigrew; the conversation stopped as
Linnett and Duncan Snow appeared in the doorway. The captain
stepped forward and said, “My dear! How lovely you look. Come in
and meet my officers Mr. Dexter and Mr. Thomas. Gentlemen, allow me
to introduce Mrs. Foster.” He gestured to Linnett, and the officers
stared at her in open admiration. Both officers had on the same
dark blue frock coat and white breeches that Duncan Snow wore.

They bowed
low.

“Ma’am,” they
chorused.

“Gentlemen,”
Linnett said, smiling coyly in return and sketching a curtsy.

The Captain
looked beyond them towards the open door. “What! Mr. Foster not
accompanying you, ma’am?”

“Why, yes, he
will be with us directly, Captain.” Linnett replied.

She was
starting to have doubts about the wisdom of her revenge. What if
John should burst into the room in a rage? Surely he wouldn’t
create a scene in front of the Captain and his officers? Linnett
had a particularly nasty vision of her turned across John’s knee
and in front of all these men. She blanched. Oh why had she been so
rash? John wouldn’t treat his wife thus surely? Nervously, she
waited for John to arrive. She sat twisting her lace handkerchief
while trying to make polite conversation with the Captain and his
men, her thoughts in turmoil elsewhere.

Linnett jumped
when, from behind, John placed his hands on either side of his
wife’s waist, and said, “So sorry, captain, gentlemen, to keep you
waiting.”

John bent
forward and kissed the nape of Linnett’s neck, and she shivered as
his hot breath caressed her skin.

“You look
ravishing my darling,” he said aloud before lowering his voice so
that only she could hear, “I shall need your help sorting my
clothes for the voyage tomorrow, especially my shirts -- you have a
much better dress sense than I.”

Linnett
tittered nervously, “Oh, do you think so?” Linnett could not be
sure whether John knew about his damaged shirts and his comment was
telling her so. But would he be this calm if that were the
case?

Captain
Pettigrew picked up a wine glass and tapped it with a spoon,
attracting everyone’s attention. “Gentlemen, I should like to make
a toast to the newly-wed Mr and Mrs John Foster, who are now the
owners of our lovely ship, The Tempest!”

Dinner was
plain but delicious, chicken served with herbs and root vegetables,
followed by fresh fruit and cheeses. Linnett, however, could have
been eating sawdust, she was so nervous. She would have perhaps
enjoyed her meal more if she had known how the ship’s food would
decline as the long voyage continued, but all Linnett could think
about was the fact that John was wearing the same shirt that he had
worn all day. He had simply changed his waistcoat, and she could
see the white stock at his neck was a fresh one. Did this mean he
had found the mutilated shirts? She had to know; she had to get
back to their cabin and take a peek, just to check.

John was
surreptitiously watching his new wife’s discomfiture. When he had
discovered the vandalised shirts, he had wanted to find the
vindictive little witch, turn up her skirts and tan her backside.
Instead, he had made himself calm down, poured a whisky, sipped it
thoughtfully while he decided how best to react to this blatant
challenge of his authority. John reasoned that since Linnett had
still not experienced the full potential of her womanhood, after
all the two of them were still strangers, unbound as yet by the
physical act of love. If he alienated her now, he may never gain
her trust, particularly in the bedchamber. That would mean the
perfect partnership he knew they were capable of possibly never
coming to pass. After all, Linnett was still shocked at leaving her
home and her loved ones.

He came to a
decision. He would pretend, at least for the moment, that he had
not found the results of her malicious deed. Tonight, he would
first teach her about the act of love, and afterwards, he hoped
that she might confess all, in which case he would magnanimously
forgive her. If not, well then, he would make sure that she would
never again repeat her underhanded act of petty vengeance.

Linnett had
been placed opposite John at the dinner table. The talk was all of
politics, and Captain Pettigrew sought John’s views on the reaction
of the colonies to the taxes imposed by Lord North, the prime
minister. “My own view,” the captain explained, “is that the new
cabinet changes will be seen in a positive light.”

John shook his
head. “I would have to disagree with you sir; Lord North is not
known to be sympathetic to the colonies’ plight. Providing he can
be persuaded that the taxes should be reduced, I can see mutual
co-operation and a return of the free trade, such as we enjoyed
before England’s war with France. Now that Lord North has
introduced the Tea Levy, things could become substantially
worse.”

The
conversation wore on, until Linnett tired of dull discussion and
turned to the captain with a bright smile. “Do tell me, Captain,
what do you make of these rumours, that Lord North is the King’s
bastard brother? The resemblance between the two is said to be
almost uncanny? One wonders which of his parents was guilty of such
an indiscretion!” An uncomfortable silence fell, as one by one the
officers seated around the table turned and stared at Linnett. John
shook his head, deeply annoyed.

“I must
apologise for my wife’s indelicacy, gentlemen. She has the typical
female nose for scandal!” The Captain gave a polite laugh and said
softly to John, “Mr Foster, your pretty wife seems quite worn out.
Escort her to her cabin, why don’t you sir?”

John looked
thoughtfully at Linnett. Did she not realise the offence she may
have caused these good men with her silly, flippant remark? It had
been rumoured, certainly, that due to a strong physical likeness,
the King and Lord North may be in some way be related. But loyal
subjects of King George did not tend to repeat such slander. The
captain would hopefully put Linnett’s tactless comments down to her
youth and female love of gossip. John thought it best to remove his
naive wife from an embarrassing situation.

He pushed back
his chair, bowing slightly to the captain, at once the picture of
the concerned husband. “My dear, you are tired,” John said
solicitously. Linnett was eager to get back to the cabin and check
on John’s ruined shirts, as it was killing her not knowing whether
he had discovered them. Surely not, she hoped, since he had been so
attentive to her all evening? She said, “Actually, yes, but I
should like to retire to my room alone. Please stay here, my dear,
and enjoy the gentlemen’s company.”

“Cabin, my
love,” John corrected her irritably. “The rooms on the ship are
called cabins, and I insist on accompanying you.”

Linnett gritted
her teeth but said with a saccharine smile, “I quite forgot about
cabins, how kind of you to remind me, my dear!”

John pulled out
her chair and helped her to her feet, but Linnett shook his hand
away and flounced to the door, furious that John was going to
escort her. Amidst an amused chorus of good wishes, they made their
leave. On the way to their cabin, John pointed out to his sulky
wife the inadvisability of spreading drawing-room gossip while
aboard the ship. Linnett simply shrugged disinterestedly; she had
only been trying to liven up what, to her, was otherwise a tedious
evening.

John decided to
drop the subject for now. He had no wish to upset their tenuous
relationship just before they were due to retire. After all, they
were on their honeymoon. When they reached the cabin door, Linnett
turned and said to John, “I shall be quite alright now, John, thank
you. Please return and join the men in their brandy with the
Captain.” Linnett wanted to sound airy, as if it were of no
consequence to her either way. John hid a smile, not fooled for one
moment -- he knew that she wanted him gone.

“No, my
darling, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone on our first night
aboard ship.”

He opened the
door and went over to seat himself on the bed. Linnett, realising
that she was not going to be able to check on the torn shirts that
night, resignedly gave up and would wait until the morning. She
bustled behind the screen to use the chamber pot and wash. When she
had completed her toilet, she called out, requesting that John
fetch her night-gown for her. John walked over to the screen and,
reaching behind, took a gentle hold of her arm, drawing her out
into the room.

“Come, my
dear,” he said, “I will help you disrobe. As you so rightly pointed
out earlier this evening, it was I who was remiss in leaving you to
cope without a maid’s assistance.”

Linnett
reluctantly allowed him to lead her towards the bed. He turned her
to face him and started to undo all the front lacing on the dress.
Linnett had chosen the front-faced opening deliberately so that she
could manage without assistance. She kept her eyes downcast and
watched as his strong fingers deftly loosened the laces. He then
pushed the robe off each of her shoulders in turn, so that her
bosom lay enticingly exposed. John bent his head and kissed the
soft white swell of her breasts. He tilted her head back, and his
mouth closed over hers possessively. He kissed her lips apart and
flicked his tongue teasingly against hers.