Pirated Love (17 page)

“So you are
Lady
Bettina actually,” Claire teased her.  She realized that the dress Tina had worn on their wedding day must have actually been hers and not stolen as she had assumed.

“At your service, ma’am,” she bowed and mocked her wife with a Cockney accent as she was now wearing her pants and loose, flowing shirt with her breasts bound as she did not want them bouncing in her way if she had to climb some rigging.

Tina learned how lonely Claire had been growing up after her own mother’s death.  Her father had always been a tyrant, but at least he had not been there all the time.  Servants were no substitute for parents, but she had made some wonderful friends when she was at school.  It had been so many months since she was in England and so much had happened.  She could not imagine ever seeing them again, much less writing to them.  What would she say?

“We will think of something,” Tina assured her.

“The rumors will make their way to England,” she pointed out.

“Aye, but that is how rumors are.  Will anyone really believe that Lady Von Hagen married a
woman
in the tropics?” she shook her head, laughing.  “No, they will think it a funny made up story.  Furthermore, I do not think the priest or your father will equate Bettina Carmichaels with Lady Bettina Carmichaels of Worcester Farms.  They only really
saw
Black Betty.”

Claire had to admit she had a point.  They did have a certain anonymity behind the rumors that they could dispute.  Who would believe them?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

As they continued their way north, they began to stop in at American ports to offload the cargo they had taken on in the Caribbean to replace the stolen one they had exchanged for hard money and gems.  It was profitable to be traders and they could further confuse anyone that might have tried to follow them.  They stopped outside of their first American port and Claire watched, amused, as two sailors-she was not allowed to call pirates any more-removed the name plate from Black Betty and they became the Red Bettina.  The ship retained its classic black coloring with a red strip around the edges, but to the unknowing it was a completely different ship and would fool those ignorant.

“My grandmother was actually Bettina so when they saw my red hair my mother insisted on naming me after her.  My grandfather was forever honored.  He adores me,” Tina informed her wife as they hugged spontaneously while they watched the sailors change the name.

Tina also allowed Claire to go ashore in these ports, but only if she were accompanied by at least two sailors, including herself, to help protect her from the riffraff that inhabited the docks.

Tina was well-known despite the different ship name, but there was honor among thieves and no one would dare turn in the notorious pirate queen.  Her hair frequently had her recognized long before they saw her ship.  With that in mind, she sold it, cutting it straight across her shoulders so she could still club it back, but its long, waist-length tendrils were no longer in evidence.  She got a pretty penny from the wigmaker who bought the hair.  Claire cried when she saw what her wife had done to her beautiful hair.  It was the source of their first fight since their marriage weeks ago on the island.

“But I loved your hair.  Do you not think you should have consulted me before you just cut it?” she was outraged.

“It is my hair and no, I did not think I should consult you over it!” Tina returned hotly.  They were both cycling together and their pre-menstrual anger was understandable.

While Claire agreed, she was not happy about the change and huffed off.  Later Tina took her in her arms and asked, “Is this really something to get upset about?”

“No, you are right.  I am being unreasonable,” she sniffed, as she foolishly cried over the minor spat they had just had.

As they continued north through the Americas, Claire was fascinated.   They steered well clear of Bermuda due to the bad storms there this time of year, but Claire was told fascinating tales of the Bermuda Triangle and the ships that had been lost at sea.  From singing heard in the middle of a fog, to music on islands that did not exist.  The tales were hard to believe and yet some of the sailors believed them emphatically.

“Where are we headed?” she asked Tina one night as they watched a beautiful sunset over the water to the west of them.  She had explained they were not too far from Boston and would put in at the port to offload some of their cargo and see what trade goods they could find.

“I thought you would enjoy meeting my grandfather,” she told her and shared a beautiful smile with her bride at the thought.

“He sounds like a fascinating man,” Claire agreed.  The thought of meeting family,
any
family of Tina’s, delighted her.  She told some pretty fantastic tales about him too, almost as far-fetched as those about Bermuda, but she assured her they were all true. 

A retired pirate in his own right, he had built a huge home in Canada to enjoy the sailing ships that sailed by and to occasionally dabble in it still.  He owned several ships that sailed under his flag yet and Tina had resisted going to work for him.  He was naturally disappointed, but understood her need for independence.  He respected that she had built her own wealth on her own hard work and was not just an extension of him.

“When was the last time you visited him?” she asked.

“Six months ago, before I met up with you.  In fact, I got news of your ship from that trip,” she told her.

“How could news of a London ship get to Canada so quickly that you could sail south to the Caribbean that quickly?” she asked, wonderingly.

“Ships go all over all the time.  Probably someone heard that the governor was enlisting the aid of one His Majesty’s ships and your fiancé probably bragged it up as well,” she answered, considering.  “He had to travel from the Caribbean to England and that only takes a couple of weeks.  I caught it on the way back,” she pointed out.

“Are you done with pirating?” she teased, knowing she was not.

Tina smiled, but did not answer.  She would not say either way and did not want to make a promise she could not keep.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The dog sat on a lonely outcropping overlooking the seaway.  He was not bored, he was not lonely.  He was alert and ‘on duty’ and he was in the best spot to see anything that came up the huge river.  Even from the large ‘castle’ of a home that also overlooked the seaway he still had the ‘best’ view of anyone and he felt it was his sworn duty to sit out here and wait.  His eyesight was better than any humans and could make out a spec in the waters that went swiftly by the castle.  He could spot the spar of a sailing vessel long before anyone else.  His position high on this promontory meant he could see further over the horizon than anyone down by the water.  His duty was almost daily and rarely could he be enticed away by anyone but the old man who occasionally, out of a sense of guilt, got the dog to come away from the ridge and into a walk along the river or elsewhere.  Nights and rainy days he spent in the house or castle, always up for a good meal, but on good days, like today, he could be seen on guard on the outcropping guarding the castle against all invaders.

Today his black and white body tensed as he clued in first on what was a rowboat out in the waters.  His body relaxed after that.  His eyes scanned the waters as they did daily if he was not snoozing as many suspected he did often.  Slowly, his head raised up off his paws as he saw a point on the distant horizon.  Slowly, it became a spar and then two others became visible.  They grew along the horizon until even a human could make out that it was the mast of a ship.  One of the great sailing ships that could sail on the deep oceans of the Earth and frequently did.  His eyes fixated on it as if to judge its sea-worthiness and to ascertain if this was
the
ship, the one ship he was waiting for, he was always waiting for.  His body was tense as though anticipating a signal as the ship slowly made its way against the strong current.  Something about the size of the ship or the shape told him what he was waiting for, and with one strong bark into the air he stood up wagging his tail in delight.  The long fronds of it waved in the breeze, the first strong emotion he had shown in months.  The joy radiated from his strong black and white body, the deep fur on it fluttering in the breeze.  He waited calmly for the ship to come closer before making the decision that it was time to go.  He began to make his way down the narrow path from the cliffs towards the river and landing that the ship was slowly making its way towards.  He was not halfway down before he could hear the resounding ring of a ship’s bell not from the ship itself, but from the castle as the ship was finally sighted by humans.  Little did he know it had been his actions that had alerted the humans in the great house to the possibility of the ship coming towards them.

Long before the humans began to make their way from the great house towards the landing, he was jumping from the large dock and swimming strongly in the current towards the boat making its way up the great river.  His strongly-muscled body was perfectly suited for swimming in such waters.  He was sighted immediately, but then a telescope had been trained on him from the first sighting on the promontory-his acknowledgement a happy bark-to him making his way hurriedly down the cliff path towards the landing, and until he threw himself joyfully into the waters and determinedly began swimming towards the boat. 

Tina lowered her glass and grinned unrepentantly.  She gave orders to lower the Jacob’s ladder for the dog.  Between them sailing against the current and the dog swimming strongly with it, he would be there shortly and she did not want him to have to wait.

“What?  What is going on?” Claire asked curiously as she watched Tina give the order and the sailor’s chuckle in anticipation.

“We are having a member of the crew join us,” Frank told her with a laugh.

In fact, the dog agilely climbed up the rope ladder, pulling his water-soaked body from the river and over the edge of the ship.   The sailors cheered in welcome and he shook his black and white furry body to rid it of the excess water.  Several sailors laughed as the unknowing got too close and were doused with the cold spray.  The dog looked around for a second, delighted to see old friends, but it was a particular friend he was looking for and he spotted her on the upper deck behind the wheel she had relinquished to her first mate, with her hands on her hips waiting patiently for him.  With a delighted bark, he loped up several sets of stairs and straight for her.

“You old sea dog,” she told him delightedly, and disregarding that he was getting her clothes wet from his thick coat, she hugged him close as he told her in so many ways how welcome she was to him.  Fending off dog kisses, she laughed as he wiggled and licked at her.

Claire watched, amused, as several sailors guffawed at the dog’s antics and the captain’s attempt to contain his enthusiasm.  It took a few minutes to get him to sit down next to her, and by then they were close enough to the pier they were making their way for that she could bark some orders to distract her crew from the spectacle they had made.  The dog sighed deeply, profoundly grateful to have found his master once again.  He looked up at her, adoringly, as her one hand drifted down to pet his furry head.

“What is your new friend’s name?” Claire asked, as she approached her wife.  Just when she started to think she knew her, something else came up to surprise her.

“This is Sir Barkley,” Tina said, by way of introduction.  The dog looked up at his name and panted happily.  It was clear he was very pleased to be back with her as he looked adoringly at her.

“What kind of dog is he?” she asked, having never seen a dog like him before. He was gorgeous with his black and white coloring.

“He is a Landseer.  They are breeding them up in Newfoundland.  In fact, there are all black ones they are beginning to call Newfoundlanders or Newfies, but this boy here, since He is black and white, is a Landseer.  Aren’t you, boy?” she said, roughing up his coat and causing him to rear up on his hind legs to be petted.  She staggered back slightly to hold his solid weight against her.  A kind of roughhousing ensued.

“What do they breed them for?” she asked, looking at the heavy body and thick fur.

“They are for ships.  They swim well, as you can see, and look at this,” she said, as she showed Claire one of the big paws.  Between each of the toes was webbing like a duck.  “It makes it easier for them to swim through the water.”

The dog realized she was showing him off to the other woman and he reached out to sniff at Claire, who held out her hand for him to smell.  Once he was finished, she petted his wet head affectionately.  “Well, any friend of yours...” she teased Tina.

“Yeah, he is a good ole boy,” she said, well-pleased with having him back on her ship.  It had been too long and she loved this dog.  It was equally obvious he adored her.  When she let him go, he sighed deeply and lay down at her feet.

“Why did you not have him with you for this last voyage?” Claire asked, as she looked at the contented dog.

“Someone was bringing a bitch to breed with him.  In fact,” she said musingly.  “He should be a daddy dog now.”  She was delighted at the prospect.

“Puppies?  You have puppies?” Claire asked, charmed at the news.