Usual disclaimers… ack!

Thanks for all the reviews… Drui – it is just a story! How else could I get her off the ship!

Marina and Moulin – Pen is back! The first ten chapters of the next Kitty tale are currently being re-edited. I will post here to let you know when they are up and done.

Chapter 18 – Hamilton

Bessie was grateful for the bag of money she had hidden in Daffodil's crate, and for the other small pouches secreted throughout their clothes. She had been nearly dead on her feet, and even Pearl had begged to be carried by one of the sailors. Bessie had wished she could plead to be carried too, but plodded on determinedly. She bumped into Mark, not realising they had stopped, her eyes unseeing, not realising that they had reached the town and that they stood before an inn.

"We're here," Mark said, his voice nearly lost over the sound of the storm that still lashed them. It was late, very late, and the door was barred. In desperation he banged loudly on it, hoping that somebody would hear him. "Open up!" he cried. "For God's sake, please open up!" Eventually the sound of the bar rising could be heard, the door opening a crack.

"What d' yer want?" a suspicious voice demanded.

"Shelter from this storm would be a start," Oliver Trescoe retorted, pushing the door open wider. "For pity's sake, we've been shipwrecked and there is a woman and her young children with us…"

"Shipwrecked? Why didn't yer say!" The door swung open. "Come in, come in... I'll get the fire restarted. Dry yourselves off and I'll send to the fort. They'll arrange a search for any other survivors…"

Oliver hurried Bessie and the children inside, several of which were still sleeping fitfully in the arms of the remaining crew. "Do you have any rooms?" he asked, his teeth chattering.

"I've a few, if yer've got money," the innkeeper retorted. "If not, yer can sleep by th' fire until th' customers come down in the morning..."

"We've nothing!" Oliver cursed. "Our ship is beneath th' waves for God's sake!"

"I'm an inn, not a charity!" he sniped.

Bessie looked at the bedraggled men. She owed them her life and the lives of her children. "I will pay for the rooms…" she offered.

"Mistress?" Oliver looked at her in surprise.

"I have some money," she ventured, looking at the innkeeper cautiously. "It is not much, but it should see us all to a bed, even in such a fine establishment as this." The innkeeper looked up at her from where he struggled to get the fire relit, catching the sarcasm in her tone.

"Some of you will have to share then," he grunted. "I've a large double which should be adequate for you and the children…"

"As long as it is warm and dry, I don't think we care," Oliver retorted, furious at the man's greed when their need was so obvious. He turned to Bessie. "I thank you, Mistress Smith," he smiled.

Bessie turned to the innkeeper. "Do you have any warm food? Or is that extra?"

"Food's included with th' rooms," he replied, nodding to himself as the fire eventually caught. "Although there'll be nothing until morning. Best dry yerselves off here and I'll see to the beds."

"Thank you," Bessie sighed. She suspected that the children were hungry, but hoped that they were tired enough to fall back to sleep immediately. Pearl had woken and stood beside the sailor that had carried her, and Jack and Tabitha were just stirring.

The innkeeper quickly returned to stand before her. "That'll be a shillin' each fer th' men an' two fer th' double room," he said, holding out his hand and waiting until Bessie reached into Daffodil's crate and withdrew some money, handing it to him. "Breakfast is from seven…"

"Perhaps you could show me the way to my room?" she asked, picking up the crate. Pearl and Jack came to stand beside her, following as the innkeeper grudgingly led the way to the room. The sailors that were still carrying the younger children trailed behind, placing them, still sleeping, on the large bed.

"Thank you, Mistress Smith," they intoned as they left, heading gratefully back to the fire to finish drying off before finding their own beds.

88888

In the morning, Bessie and the children woke early, ravenously hungry, and headed quickly downstairs in the hope of a warm and hearty breakfast. Even the disgusting food served on the Jolly Maid would have been welcomed, but the food at the inn was not only good but plentiful. They had nearly finished when the doors opened, a number of marines walking into the room.

"You the survivors from the Jolly Maid?" the leader of the men asked.

"We are," Oliver Trescoe replied. "Have you found any other survivors?"

The marine shook his head. "Your ship smashed on the reefs an' so far we've found only bodies… I'd not hold out any hope if I were you."

Oliver nodded sadly. "Thank you," he acknowledged.

"Captain Reynolds would like to see you at the fort as soon as you are able," he informed him. "He'll want to ask you a few questions…"

Oliver sighed. He had expected as much. As senior surviving crew member, he would have to see to the paperwork involved in the loss of the Jolly Maid and her cargo, to assure the investors that there was no foul play before the rest of the men would be free to seek employment on any other ships that they could find. He scraped the last of his breakfast from the bowl before rising. "I'll go now," he said, "if you could point me in the right direction…"

"I'll take you myself," the marine replied, escorting him from the inn and leading the way towards the fort.

88888

Reviews?

I promise the first word in the next chapter is "Jack"