His Spoilt Lady (13 page)

“ ‘Tis a
ghostie! I ain’t staying here no more! The door t’was this way,
missus. Come on!” Pat dragged Linnett with him through the pitch
black, and suddenly they collided with a solid wall and screamed,
truly panicked by now.

Linnett
stretched out her hands and felt her way along the rough wooden
wall. Then there was a grating sound, and dim light appeared on the
other side of her. Pat had found the door and pulled it open. They
both scrambled, pushing and shoving one another through the small
frame, letting the door slam shut behind them. With hands still
clasped, they scurried along the dark galley, back through the
sailor’s sleeping place and up the stairway to the next level.

Hurriedly, they
made their way back to Linnett’s cabin without speaking. Panting
and sobbing, Linnett flung open the cabin door and they tumbled
inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

They were met
by an astonished Duncan Snow and John. “Good God, woman, where on
earth have you been? You look terrible!” John said and strode
towards his dishevelled wife.

He was most
surprised when Linnett flung herself into his arms and buried her
face in his chest. Mr. Snow grabbed the unfortunate Pat by the
scruff of his neck.”What’s been going on, boy? Where have you
been?”

Pat began to
howl so Duncan shook him. “Stop that at once and tell us what has
happened.”

“Ghostie!
Ghostie that’s what!” the poor boy stuttered.

“Oh, this is
ridiculous! We will never get any sense out of him; he’s
hysterical!” Duncan said and released the boy in disgust.

John held
Linnett away from him and looked earnestly into her face.

“Linnett, now
calm down and tell me what has happened.”

Duncan Snow
poured out a cup of tea for her and said, “Here, John, this might
help her.”

They gently
pushed Linnett into a chair and made her sip the tea. “Alright,”
said John, hunkering down in front of his wife, “now, just tell me
what happened.”

Linnett drew a
deep shuddering breath. “We went down to the luggage hold to fetch
my sewing basket. We were sorting through the trunks, and the
lantern fell over and went out and we were left in total
darkness!”

John ran a hand
distractedly through his hair. “Why didn’t you ask me to fetch the
damn thing for you? Linnett you are
not
to roam around the
ship alone! Anything could have happened to you, just what
did
happen!” John stood up and started to pace up and down
in front of Linnett.

She flared up
at him. “Oh for goodness sake, stop your bellyaching and
listen.
I am trying to tell you what happened, and anyway, I
wasn’t alone! It was totally dark and I fell over something, but I
don’t know what!” She shuddered and wrapped her arms around her
body. “It was horrible! Then we heard a voice, it cried out in the
dark.” She gazed wide-eyed at Pat, who shivered and stared back,
horrified, at her.. Duncan Snow frowned and asked, “What sort of
voice?”

“It be the
souls of drowned Frenchies,” whispered Pat unexpectedly.

Linnett stared
at him round-eyed “Yes!” she said, trembling. “You are right;
that’s exactly what it sounded like!”

John rubbed a
hand over his face, exasperated. “Oh for goodness sake, this is
complete twaddle! Duncan I leave you to sort this ignorant young
scoundrel out. What on earth did he think he was doing taking my
wife down amongst those ruffians?! Anything might have happened to
her. It doesn’t bear thinking of!”

Pat opened his
mouth to protest, but Duncan Snow quelled him with a look that
promised him no good; Pat gulped and closed his mouth.

“Come along,
you young whipper-snapper,” Duncan said, walking to the door.
“Perhaps a sound thrashing will soon make you forget about drowned
sailors and ghosties!”

Linnett jumped
up, shouting, “No, no! Please don’t hurt him, Mr. Snow, I beg of
you! Be kind to the lad, he’s had a terrible fright.... we both
have.”

Linnett reached
out an imploring hand. Pat flashed Linnett a grateful grin, but he
didn’t hold out much hope of reprieve despite her plea. Duncan Snow
nodded politely but refrained from reply. He would do as he saw fit
with his crew.

When they were
alone finally, John swung round and immediately took Linnett to
task. “Have you any idea of the danger you might have been in?” he
asked her incredulously.

“Oh, John,”
Linnett said wearily, “please leave it. I have had a horrible shock
and I just want to lie down.”

John gritted
his teeth and counted to ten.

Later, at
dinner with just the two of them, the captain and Duncan Snow,
Linnett recounted her story again for the captain’s benefit. When
she had finished her tale, he put his elbows onto the table and
placed his fingertips together thoughtfully.

“Tell me, my
dear, what made you and the boy suppose this ghost to be French?”
the captain asked.

Linnett thought
a moment. “Well,” she told him, “it spoke in French! It moaned
horribly, calling out, ‘
mon dieu
,
mon dieu
!’”

The men passed
each other meaningful glances. “What? What is wrong? Tell me!”
Linnett demanded, looking from John to the captain, but they both
ignored her.

Captain
Pettigrew asked Duncan, “Where are the new crew from?”

Duncan frowned
and said, “Most have sailed with us for some while, but we did
press-gang a few men from Plymouth for this voyage.”

The captain
nodded thoughtfully. It was common practice in these times to
kidnap men from ale houses and the streets to take aboard ships as
ship’s crew. Often these men were bludgeoned unconscious and flung
into a hold until the ship was far out at sea.

Captain
Pettigrew turned again to Linnett and said kindly, “My dear, Mrs.
Foster I am sure today’s adventure has exhausted you. Perhaps you
would like to retire now and leave us to our port.”

Linnett put her
head on one side and smiled sweetly at the captain. “On the
contrary, Captain Pettigrew, I am well rested and not at all
tired.”

John stood up
and frowned at his wife. “I think, my dear, that you would benefit
from an early night tonight, especially after your shock today.
Come, I will escort you back to our cabin and then return, if I
may, captain, to join you for port.”

Linnett threw
John a filthy look and started to argue, but John marched round the
table and non-too gently hauled Linnett to her feet, keeping a firm
grip on her elbow. “Come along, my dear,” he said, his voice
brooking no discussion.

The men rose to
their feet and bowed; Linnett realised that she had no option but
to leave. “Gentlemen,” she said icily as she swept to the door,
shaking off John’s hand as she did so.

John followed
behind her stiff, indignant figure. When they arrived at their
cabin, he unlocked the door and Linnett marched inside, spinning to
face him furiously. “How dare you treat me like that? I am not a
child, John, to be put to bed before the adults! That was an
interesting conversation, and it concerned me. You had no right
dragging me off like that! What on earth must have Mr. Snow thought
of your arrogant and rude behaviour?”

John made no
attempt to interrupt Linnett’s tirade of complaints, simply
lounging in the doorway, his grey eyes merry, his arms folded,
watching her with tolerant amusement.

When at last
she had run out of breath, he said evenly, “My, my, we do have a
temper this evening! I must try to remember not to stand too close
to the ship’s rail when you are in this sort of mood. I am sure it
would not be quite so easy to climb out from the sea as it was from
a pond!”

Then with a
grin, John quickly backed out of the room, slamming the door shut
behind him and locking it. Something smashed against the back door
and a loud shriek of rage echoed from within. He would let her
behaviour go on this occasion; after all, she’d had a nasty fright
today, and John suspected that this rage was Linnett’s way of
feeling strong and in control of herself again. Chuckling to
himself, John pocketed the cabin’s key and went off to join the
officers and drink port.

Over drinks and
cigars, the possibility of a French spy being stowed aboard was
discussed. It was decided that Duncan Snow should conduct a
thorough search below decks as a precaution the following day.

The days rolled
past pleasantly enough and even fell into a routine. John and
Linnett would take breakfast together in their cabin, after which
they would take a stroll up on deck before returning below for a
light luncheon, which was generally set out in the captain’s cabin.
In the afternoons, Linnett sewed shirts with thread that the
captain had supplied. Sometimes, she and Pat would clear and tidy
the cabin. Pat came daily to wash out clothes and clean. He often
bought their breakfast to them in the mornings and would empty the
slops. John spent most early afternoons with Duncan, as Linnett
described the time they spent closeted away, playing sailors!

John and
Linnett would meet up again for tea, and this was a mutually
satisfying hour or so in which they generally ended up in the bed,
slaking their honeymoon passion. Linnett was amazed at how much she
enjoyed John’s attention now, and she more than enjoyed their
lovemaking. She was learning about her husband and realised very
quickly how easily she could manipulate him using sex to get her
own way. Linnett still entertained the hope that she could persuade
her husband to return to England and live with her at Lavenstock
Hall. She thought wrongly that he had no idea of her thought
process, but John was an astute man and was fully aware of
Linnett’s plan. While it was harmless, he was happy to indulge her.
For the duration of their honeymoon, he was happy to appear to
comply with Linnett’s whiles and whims, just so long as she
respected him and did as he bid her.

Linnett awoke
one night to a terrible shrieking noise and a sickening rolling
sensation. There was a vast storm in progress, and the ship
groaned, her timbers screaming under the force of the wind, bucking
and dropping as she strained to ride the high boiling sea. Linnett
clung to John, who was awoken by her terrified whimpers, and he
reassured her and comforted her.

He begun
distracting her, and soon the frenzied elements were blotted out by
the internal frenzy of own their lovemaking. When morning dawned,
the storm had lessened considerably, but the wind still howled and
the ship rolled alarmingly. For the first time since boarding the
ship, Linnett felt badly. As the morning went on, she became more
and more unwell. Linnett had thought that once she had been sick in
a bucket Pat provided, she would start to feel better, but she kept
on retching until she lay completely exhausted. John stayed by her
side and held a cool damp cloth to her forehead; he was very
concerned for his sickly wife. He was so used to her boundless
energy and robust good health that he found the sight of her laying
limp and white quite terrifying. He berated himself for taking
advantage of her fear during the night, using her to slake his own
lust, quite forgetting the active role she had played during their
coupling!

Duncan Snow
came to see them, along with Pat. “She’s jus’ sea sick, ‘tis all,”
Pat shrugged unsympathetically.

Duncan was more
concerned. “I have a draught of powders in my chest,” he told John.
“I’ll fetch them. Just pour some wine out into a glass, Pat, ready
for my return. The sooner the lass swallows them, the quicker she
will recover.”

As good as his
word, he returned promptly and mixed a foul potion up in the
waiting glass. John lifted Linnett’s head up, and Duncan held the
drink to her lips. Linnett turned her head away stubbornly refusing
to drink the stuff.

“Right then,
there’s only one thing for it,” said John, sighing.

He signalled
for Duncan to support Linnett’s head, and he took the glass. He
gripped Linnett’s small nose between his finger and thumb, and as
soon as she opened her mouth, he tipped the liquid in. She coughed
and spluttered, but most of the noxious potion went down her
throat. “Good girl,” John encouraged kindly. He mopped up the spilt
medicine and made her comfortable. Linnett glowered up at him from
the pillows but felt too ill to complain. Duncan and Pat left
quietly, gently closing the door behind them.

Linnett dozed
and slept until evening. When she awoke, the horrible moaning wind
had dropped, the storm had passed, and the ship rolled gently once
again. She felt drained and washed out but much better than she had
done earlier in the day. When she sat up, she saw that John sat
across the room, reading.

“Hello. Have
you been there all the time I was asleep?” she asked.

John put his
book down, walked to her and sat on the bed at her side. “Of
course, darling. I wouldn’t have left you on your own; I’ve been so
worried about you! How do you feel now?” John placed his hand on
her smooth forehead, checking her for any fever. She felt warm but
not feverish. He laid the back of his hand against her pale cheek
in a gentle caress.

Her voice
sounded frail when she said, “Like a wrung-out dishcloth and
utterly horrible! You absolute beast, making me drink that odious
stuff of Duncan’s, it tasted foul!”

John grinned
down at her, and Linnett smiled back; she decided that she liked
the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed like that. How could she
have ever have feared this man? He was her delightful and most
handsome husband, who had brought ecstasy into her sheltered life.
Her eyes roamed over him, noting the way his dark curling hair fell
across his brow. John sat with a leg crossed, an ankle resting over
one knee, and Linnett admired his well-muscled thighs and the large
bulge where his legs met. She wished she felt a little better.