A Most Unconventional Courtship

‘Help! I don’t feel well!’ Alessa scrabbled feebly at the door panels. ‘Oh, please help me.’ She stooped and picked up a soft valise, tossing it into a corner. It landed with a soft thud like a body falling. As the door opened she collapsed artistically in the centre of the cabin, arms outflung.

Chance’s blow took the man completely unawares as he bent over the limp body and he folded up on top of her with a grunt. ‘Ough! Get him off me!’

But Chance was already dragging the man clear and systematically removing weapons. The haul yielded a cutlass, a long knife and a pistol. Chance handed Alessa back her knife, untied the broad scarlet sash from the man’s waist, swathed it around his own and stuck in cutlass and pistol. ‘Very piratical,’ she said admiringly, flicking at the fringed ends.

‘When we get up on deck, I want to look as familiar as possible to those watching from the merchantman. We need to find you men’s clothes.’ Chance edged out into the empty passage and began to search each cabin systematically. Most were empty, but one had a pile of clean, but worn, clothing in it.

‘Try those.’ Chance leaned a shoulder against the door jamb where he could watch the passageway.

‘Close the door, then.’ Alessa stopped with her hands on the much-abused ribbons at her neck.

‘For heaven’s sake, I have seen you naked. Not an hour ago I was kissing—’

‘Never mind! This is different.’ Quite how, she had no idea, except that now he made her shy, in a delicious, tremulous way that she wanted to explore. And she did not want to feel like that when they were engaged in a life-and-death struggle.

Chance grinned and turned a tactful shoulder on her as she scrambled into the smallest pair of cotton duck trousers, cinched them at the waist with a leather belt and pulled a coarse linen smock-shirt over her head. The weight of her plait swinging over her shoulder reminded her that disguise would be more difficult for her than for Chance. She snatched up a bandana, used it to trap her hair on top of her head and planted a broad-brimmed straw hat on it.

‘There, perfect.’As Chance turned to look at her she tossed him another bandana and watched admiringly as he wrapped it around his head. With it tied rakishly on his dark hair, the smile he gave her turned his tanned face from that of a respectable English aristocrat into pure pirate. It was devastatingly attractive.

‘You look very, um…masculine, in that outfit,’ she mumbled.

‘And I do not normally?’ He seemed mildly affronted.

‘Of course you do, only like that you look dangerous as well. It is very appealing.’

‘Hmm. Remind me when we are out of all this that it might be fun to play pirates.’ The twinkle in his eyes cut through her shyness and made her heart sing. ‘Come on, let’s do it for real.’

Everywhere they went below decks was deserted. It seemed that the Count had stripped the Ghost to the number necessary to sail it in his desire to search for Chance. ‘We need to find the others, I can’t work the ship without them. Listen. The inimitable sound of your aunt in full flow.’

The key was in the lock. Chance turned it and opened the door. Lady Blackstone rose to her feet and Alessa could only admire the icy composure of her stance. Behind her Frances huddled on the bed, her arm around the shoulder of the snivelling maid.

‘I demand that you take me to the Count immediately,’ Lady Blackstone proclaimed. ‘This is an outrage—Blakeney?’

‘And me,’ Alessa slipped under Chance’s arm and into the room. ‘Aunt, are you all unhurt?’

‘He would not dare lay a finger on us,’ her aunt said vehemently. ‘But what on earth are you doing, Alexandra? Why are you both dressed like that?’

‘So we can take this ship. There are not many crew on board, it is our only hope, but you all have to help.’ She braced herself, waiting for her aunt’s protests that this was impossible, that ladies should not do such a thing, that it would cause a scandal. This was, as she could never forget, the woman who had kidnapped her in the name of convention and saving face.

‘Of course,’ Lady Blackstone said briskly. ‘What must we do, Blakeney? Oh, and Dr Cobb is in the next cabin.’

‘The one you told I was hysterical and mentally distracted?’ Alessa enquired sweetly.

‘Yes, that one.’ Her aunt fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘This is not the time to discuss that now.’ The steel seemed to shimmer into something like regret.’ I am sorry, Alexandra.’

The doctor, when released, was inclined to fume and bluster until Chance cut through his protests by the simple expedient of thrusting a pistol into his hands. ‘Use the butt,’ he said curtly. ‘I don’t want any gunshots to warn the other ship. Now, this is what we are going to do.’

Ten minutes later Chance flattened himself just inside the hatch on to the deck as Frances, a vast handkerchief fluttering in her hand, brushed past him and on to the deck. ‘Oh, help,’ she wailed. ‘Mama is sick! Do help.’

‘Come in now,’he hissed, and she scuttled back, throwing him a watery smile before vanishing down the companionway.

There was a sharp order from the bridge, running feet and a man came through the hatch. Chance stuck out a foot, tripped him neatly, bringing him down, and with him the two who were hard on his heels. Three at once was more than he had hoped for.

Below there was the muffled sound of the doctor applying good medical theory to knocking all three out, and Lady Blakeney, in what she doubtless thought was a whisper. ‘Stop sniveling, girl, and help me drag them into the cabin. Silk stockings, those will do to tie them up. Tight, now…’

Chance could see the merchantman lying perhaps two hundred yards off. The anchor was down and there was no sign that anyone had noticed anything amiss on the Ghost. He eased out of the hatch doors and worked his way round until the bridge deck was above him. There was no one in front of him: the three who were now safely stowed below must have comprised the deck crew, which was a relief. If they could beat gently up and down with three men, plus, he assumed, the steersman and the sailing master, then so could he.

Boldly he stepped away from the cover and walked to the companionway leading up to the bridge, making no attempt at concealment. Behind him he heard a gasp. Alessa.