His Spoilt Lady (14 page)

Linnett sighed
heavily, and John frowned with concern. “Is something wrong
sweetheart?” he asked her smoothing back her hair.

“No, I just
hate being ill, I always have done. Talk to me, John; tell me about
Boston and your home there.”

Linnett settled
herself back against the pillows and arranged the covers. John was
pleased that she had at last asked about his home. He swung his
legs up and lay on the bed, pulling her into the circle of his arm.
He stroked Linnett’s hair, and she snuggled against him, feeling
warm and safe. She could hear the soothing beat of his heart and
the deep rumble of his voice as he spoke, telling her of his home
and of Boston. John talked of the people he knew and of his
friends, and finally, he spoke of his mother.

Linnett sat
upright suddenly. “Your mother is alive?” she asked him,
amazed.

“Why, yes,”
said John, surprised, “I assumed that you knew that.”

“No, I did not.
Why did you not tell me this before? Tell me, what is she
like?”

John smiled at
his wife’s interested, animated face. She had more colour in her
cheeks now. “She is a delightful woman, and I am certain that she
will love you, my darling. We have a reasonable-sized, wooden salt
box house and a housekeeper to run it.” John planted a kiss on her
nose and added, “My mother and your father have been writing to
each other since my father died. They plotted our betrothal between
them.”

Linnett
couldn’t believe that her father had not mentioned any of this to
her. “What is your mother’s name, John?” she asked him
curiously.

“Louise. She is
a very brave and sweet lady, and I am sure you two will get on
right away,” John told her confidently.

Linnett sat
thoughtfully, “My father did mention the name Louise when a letter
came for him once, but I was impatient to go out riding and I just
didn’t listen. I suppose after that he didn’t bother to mention her
letters to me again.”

Linnett looked
so sad that John said kindly, “Well now, how many children listen
when their parents talk of their friends’ news? I for one never
know who has had what baby, or whose husband has what illness. I
simply cannot keep up with all my mother’s friends and their
doings, so why should you?” He quelled the thought that Linnett was
far too self-absorbed to listen to anything not directly concerned
with herself, but Linnett nodded in agreement.

“Anyway, it
will be nice to have a Mamma. Do you think your mother will
continue to run the house?”

John was
reassuring, saying “Well, as I told you, Mrs. Plant is our
housekeeper and she is an excellent organiser. She will run the
house, but I am sure you could make any changes that you see fit.
Mrs. Plant and her husband, Ben, have been with us for some years
now.”

Linnett jolted
“Do you know, John, I do not even know how old you are.”

John chuckled.
“Twenty-six, and you are to be nineteen soon, exactly seven years
my junior, the perfect age difference for a man and wife, in my
view!”

“Huh! I don’t
know about that. Why, sir, you are almost old enough to be my
father!”

Linnett’s
teasing earned her a merciless tickling. When they both lay tangled
up in the sheets exhausted and laughing, Linnett rolled over and
said very seriously, “John I think I may be falling in love with
you, and I want to tell you that I am glad now that we married. I
just wish that I could tell my father so.”

John cupped her
face in his hands and murmured softly, “I would have no other
woman, only you, my sweeting, I love you so very much already. And
yet I find a little more to love about you each day that we spend
together.”

He bent and
kissed her mouth with tender passion. Pulling away at last, he
suggested that Linnett begin a letter to her father that they could
send back to England when they arrived in Boston. He fetched her
ink and paper so she could make a start.

The days
resumed their familiar pattern once again. The stormy weather had
passed, and Linnett felt invigorated and well again due to the
bracing sea air. One day while she was on deck, a huge grey and
white bird settled on a crosspiece of the sails. The sailors were
all very excited because they said this bird was a lucky omen. They
fetched nets for trawling fish, and Linnett and John watched in
fascination as the net was pulled in some time later, laden with
flapping silver fish. The fish flopped and writhed on the deck and
the men started to salt them into barrels, leaving a writhing heap
of fish to one side.

When the
sailors had moved away, the large bird flew down onto the deck and
ate its fill of the fish; Linnett was thrilled to witness this and
spoke of little else for days. It also meant that their diet could
be supplemented with fresh fish. The chickens had long since been
devoured, and the vegetable supply was exhausted. The fish would be
a welcome change to ship’s rations.

One afternoon
on a particularly blustery day, Linnett was up on deck with just
Pat for company. The sea was a steely grey and “white horses”
crested many of the waves that buffeted the ship. Occasionally,
waves rose high and broke over the deck. Linnett and Pat were
playing with a ball that Pat had made out of wound-up rags. Linnett
threw the ball for Pat to catch and it flew high, far over his
head. It rolled beyond him and settled at the edge of the ship. Pat
laughingly careered after it. He had just reached the ship’s side
and was bending down to retrieve the ball, when the ship dipped in
that direction and a huge wave broke over him. Silently, he had
vanished, swept over the side of the ship and into the high seas.
It was as if he had never stood there at all.

So quickly did
the accident happen, that for a few seconds Linnett just stared at
where the boy had stood, and then she begun to scream and ran to
the side of the ship, frantically looking down into the churning
water.

“Help me! Help,
for pity’s sake, will someone help!”

Her frantic
screams bought two seamen to her side, and she waved into the
restless sea screaming, “Man overboard! For goodness sake! Do
something, now! Pat, oh, Pat.”

Linnett moaned
as the seamen tied a rope to a bulkhead and threw the remaining
rope over the side. Duncan Snow came running up; assessing the
situation quickly, he told the men to release a rowing boat. The
men lowered the boat, and Duncan himself climbed down the loose
rope to reach the little vessel, which bobbed about on the swelling
sea. Linnett waited, her hand pressed to her mouth to prevent
screams escaping. John arrived and put his arm around his wife.
“What on earth has happened?” he asked her.

“Oh, John, dear
god, Pat was washed off the deck. He just disappeared into the sea!
If only I hadn’t thrown that stupid, stupid ball!” Linnett’s voice
rose again to a shriek.

John gave his
wife a reassuring squeeze. “It was not your fault, darling! It was
an accident. What are they doing now?” he asked and gestured to the
sailors, a number of whom were engaged with the rescue.

Linnett
explained that Duncan was on the sea in the little boat trying to
find Pat. Just then, there was a shout and the sailors began
slapping each other on the back and laughing.

“Oh, please
god, that means they have found him,” said Linnett fervently,
craning her neck to see over the side of the ship.

John pushed his
way through to the front of the crowd of men. “Have they got him?”
he asked a midshipman.

“Ay, look for
ee’self,” the sailor said, gesturing over the ship’s side.

John looked
down; the small rowing boat was continually smashed against the
side of the ship by the relentless sea. John could see Duncan
struggling with Pat’s inert body. He appeared to be tying a rope
around the boy’s chest. He waved a signal up to the men, who began
to haul the boy up by the rope. Eventually, they pulled Pat up over
the ship’s side and onto the deck. He lay there, unmoving. Linnett
rushed forward, and the men silently parted, letting her through.
She dropped to her knees at the boy’s side and put her hand over
his heart; it was beating very faintly.

“Quickly, John,
get him to our cabin.”

She turned to
the nearest sailor and shouted for him to help her husband. John
swiftly picked the lad up, not requiring any help, as he was a
large, strong man and the boy was slight. Linnett hurried along at
his side. Neither of them spared a thought for poor Duncan, who was
climbing up the rope to the safety of the ship. He was cheered by
the sailors and helped aboard.

John placed Pat
on their bed in the cabin. “Linnett, fetch another blanket quickly.
I must get these wet clothes off the boy.”

Linnett turned
away to do as he bid but turned back quickly, as she heard John
utter an oath. “What the heck? But, this is no boy! Linnett, come
over here,” he called urgently. They both stared down at Pat. John
had removed his top, and there
she
lay with what was
unmistakably pair of small but perfectly formed breasts.

They looked at
each other amazed. “Well,” said Linnett dryly, “a Patricia if I am
not mistaken! You fetch the blanket and I will undress...her.”

After removing
Pat’s trousers they could both see the triangle of her sex that
proved beyond doubt Pat was indeed a Patricia. John threw Linnett
the blanket. “Wrap her in this, and when she is decent, I will rub
some warmth into her limbs.”

Linnett did as
he asked and minutes later, after a vigorous rub down, Pat started
moaning softly. Linnett pulled a clean nightgown from her trunk and
pulled it over the girl’s head. They trucked her snugly into the
bed and heaped covers over her. As they stood looking down at her,
the door opened and Duncan strode in, wrapped in a blanket over his
still soaking clothes. “How is the boy?” he asked immediately.

“You had better
see for yourself,” said John, stepping away from the bed.

Duncan joined
them and stared down. Silently, John stepped forward and lifted the
covers, and then he parted the nightgown, revealing Pat’s bare
chest and proof of her female identity.

“Good God! He’s
a girl? I cannot believe this!” Duncan was extremely shaken. “Are
you sure?” he asked Linnett. She nodded and said, “I changed her,
and Pat is most definitely a she... all over!”

“My God, I just
cannot believe it, a girl! How on earth has she managed to keep
that a secret on a ship full of men? ...God!” Duncan paled. “To
think . . .” He stopped, shaking his head slowly from side to
side.

“To think what,
man?” John asked. Duncan looked up with an ashen face and replied,
“The conditions that she lives in surrounded by the roughest of
men. The way I treated her, too! All the thrashings she’s endured
at my hand!”

“Oh, Duncan,
you must not blame yourself,” Linnett retorted briskly. “As far as
you knew, Pat was a boy!”

John looked up,
nodding in agreement. Turning to Duncan, John put an arm around the
man’s shoulders. “Duncan, you saved the girl’s life. Now go and get
yourself dry. You’re a hero, man!”

John guided
Duncan out of the room and called back from the doorway, “I will go
and beg some hot soup from the cook. There is some brandy in the
top drawer, give her some of that. It might help warm her.” Linnett
found the brandy, and tenderly, she helped Pat to sit up. The girl
took a sip or two and lay back down with a sigh, her eyes
unopened.

Linnett,
watching her, noticed a tear slide down the girl’s cheek. Tenderly,
she stroked the poor girl’s forehead and murmured soothingly to
her. How could they have been all been so blind? Pat’s delicate
features were so obviously those of a girl. Her skin was so white,
it looked translucent, the skin under her eyes shadowed blue, and
she had a small rose bud mouth and a straight nose. The grime that
usually hid her small heart-shaped face had been effectively washed
away by the dip in the sea.

She made a
small sound of distress. Linnet spoke softly to her. “Pat, dear,
please do not fret. You are safe now.” Slowly, Pat’s eyelids
fluttered open, soft brown eyes that gazed up at Linnett in misery.
Tears filled and trickled down the pale cheeks. “Ssshh hush, hush,
it’s all right now,” Linnett soothed her gently.

“How’s.... I
mean...what’ll I’s do now?” Pat’s thin voice asked in despair.

“I don’t
understand,” said Linnett, frowningly.

Pat started to
speak, but the effort set her coughing. Linnett fetched a cup of
water and held it while she sipped. Then Pat lay back against the
pillows before she said, “Tis plain, Missus, now them knows I’s a
girl, them’ll put me ashore first chance they’ll get!”

Linnett had to
concede that this would indeed be the case. She looked at the
piteous girl and thought quickly. “Pat, I am travelling without a
maid to a strange new land, alone except for my husband. Would you
do for me, perhaps? I could train you in the ways of a lady’s maid,
and even write a reference as such. It would help me a great deal
to have a lady’s maid again, I do assure you.”

She looked
hopefully at the sorry girl on her bed. A small smile curved Pat’s
pale lips. “T’would be nice,” she said nodding, “but I don’t know
nuffing about dresses and stuff though.”

Linnett gave a
small delighted laugh and said, “I will teach you, have no fear.
Now you need to rest. John has gone to find you some nourishment.
We can talk when you are feeling better.”

Then Linnett
fussed around with the bed covers but had to turn away, lest Pat
see the tears of pity that flooded her eyes.

Five days had
passed since Pat’s dramatic recovery, and she had been moved into a
small cabin around the corner of the passageway from Linnett’s and
John’s cabin. She was shy at first with them, but grew more
confident with each day that passed. One of the first things that
changed was her name. Pat’s real name was Patsy and so she became
that once again. Linnett turned out a couple of suitable dresses
and undergarments for the girl, altering what needed to be changed
so that they would fit Patsy’s slighter build. She showed herself
to be quick and willing and was deft with a needle. Linnett had
discovered a great deal about the young girl from their long
afternoons spent together in sewing. By now, the gradually
decreasing pile of John shirts and their sleeves were sewn back
together. Linnett had cursed herself for her destructive act with
each shirt she had mended, not to mention the discomfort she had
suffered with a sore backside.