Author's Blab: Everyone been to 'Stolen Breeches' at livejournal yet? If you haven't, best be on your way, then! Well, after you read this, of course. :P
Felicity: An American Girl ROMANCE, Pt.3, Ch.2: Many Storms
Four days out from the Chesapeake Bay, The Protean encountered a storm in the night that had the ship bouncing about wildly on the waves and all hands on deck. Combined with the brilliant vein-like flashes of lightning, explosive booming thunder and the continual shouting of men at the tops of their lungs was the screams of Felicity Merriman everytime the vessel pitched and tossed. It unnerved the crew, who were already having trouble concentrating on the tasks at hand with sheets of rain in their faces. There were some very much convinced that having a crazy woman on board was going to bring about the death of them all.
For Felicity, however, being stuck in her tiny cabin in a creaking ship being battered by a severe thunderstorm was a whole new experience, and a terrifying one at that. Sometimes the ship would tilt and nearly send her tumbling into the bulkhead. Knowing that there was no solid land nearby only added to the terror, and she was convinced that the ship would be going down. She was convinced the sea would take her life, no longer burdening her with the task, and that was some comfort in the midst of all the turmoil. The notion that the almighty sea would claim Forsythe, the Gooch and that immensely disagreeable woman Madame Helga gave Felicity a measure of satisfaction even as she held on to the sides of her bunk with white-knuckled hands.
No wonder the stupid bed needed to be bolted to the wall.
But death-by-storm did not come that night. Despite all the creaking and groaning of the ship, the sharp snapping of the sails and frantic yells of the crew who were topside in the sqall, the big vessel had held together. Felicity did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed. The following morning was overcast, cold and blustery. Madame Helga had brought her up on deck for fresh air after her stale breakfast of boiled eggs and hard biscuit (per Forsythe's orders). She sat upon a bench just outside the war room with Helga sitting on her left with a basket of knitting. For a while Felicity merely stared out over the gunwales at the dark grey sea and the unfriendly peaks that rose and fell as if they were meant to hypnotize.
She'd never seen so much water in all her lfe. She briefly thought about Noah and his ark, how Noah had sent out the dove to scout for land-this in turn reminded her of William's toy ark and all of the special times she and Nan would play with it together with him. Her eyes immediately filled and she had to squeeze them shut, lest anyone see her cry. Beneath the grey woolen cloak Helga had fetched for her, her fingernails curled sharply into her palms. She was determined not to show any more emotion. She was already getting uneasy glances from the crew nearest to her and some of the officers as well, and she knew what they were thinking.
She was making them nervous.
There was certain smugness she felt in that. She may not have had anywhere to run to or anyone to help her, but there was the smallest spark of life-sustaining retaliation in knowing that she could quite easily unravel these men by pitching a screaming fit. The thought of the redcoat standing about ten feet away, dozing whilst he stood, getting startled right out from under his fluffy peruke wig almost made her smirk.
Almost.
She had not seen Forsythe since he'd had her taken back to her little cabin that morning. She had heard his voice just outside her door a time or two, but 'twas quite possible that he was avoiding her while she was topside in case she decided to come at him like a flying squirrel again in front of the crew. She was not ruling that out, either. 'Twas a difficult choice to make between showing no emotion and further confirming the lunacy rumor by clawing Forsythe's eyes out. In all honesty, the severe shock of her situation kept her blank-minded much of the time.
'Twas known among the crew and by those who had sailed many times before that a voyage from the colonies to England was a shorter trip than the reverse. This was due to the prevailing westerly winds and the flow of the almighty Gulf Stream. The three-masted vessel was moving along swiftly with single reefs and topgallant sails. Felicity had heard stories about life at sea from her grandfather, stories about being at sea during storms from both Elizabeth and Arthur. All three of them had expressed having a feeling of smallness in the presence of the mighty vastness of water and the sails filling with the wind that propelled the ship along.
As if she wasn't feeling overwhelmed enough already.
She didn't want to watch any of the topside activities going on. She was not here by choice and far from wishing to make any acquaintences. So she stared out at the ocean and thought of all the ways in which she would like to kill Forsythe. She actually raised a hand to her head and yanked off her wadded mobcap to let the breezes stir her already mussed mane of red.
This defiant gesture did not go unnoticed by the continually knitting Madame Helga, who clicked her tongue disapprovingly and said, "You had best put zat thing back on and act like a lady!"
"Or what?" grumbled Felicity suggestively, still staring stonily out at the ocean. "You will give me the powders, put me to sleep and have it nailed onto my head?"
"Zis rebelliousness vill not be tolerated in ze Manor!" Helga scolded, wagging a chubby finger threateningly.
"I do not care about 'ze Manor'," Felicity replied coldly as the burly woman gasped in offense. "Nor do I care what anyone else at the Manor thinks, because I do not even want to be there in the first place."
"But you must do vat your husband vants you to do!"
"He is not my husband, nor do I want him to be. I am here against my will and you know that. I will not do as anyone wishes as long as this captivity continues." She had not raised her voice, turned her head to look at the woman or moved a muscle. Eerily, Felicity seemed quite calm in her remoteness.
Helga was, of course, appalled by such insolence. "Oh! Lord Vorsythe will be most angry when he hears zis!"
Felicity shrugged indifferently.
And indeed he was. Later that evening another squall blew up fast, and Felicity was in her tiny cabin praying for mass death and destruction, when the red-faced young lord from Bristol flung the door wide open. His flinging was not intentional, for the ship had begun the awful pitching and rolling, and all bodily movements seemed to become exaggerated with the dreadful lurching. Angry as he was, however, he was also half-concerned with trying to remain upright on his feet, for he clutched at the door frames frantically. Felicity, who sat upon the little bed looking as though she was in the meditation position, merely glared at him.
Perhaps he would not be staggering about so much if his shoe-heels were not above average height, she mused.
"Now Felicity, I told you what would happen if you insisted on behaving improperly," he said, in his best attempt at sounding intimidating while scrambling for a decent hold on the left side of the door frame. His lower half slid out into the narrow corridor.
"And I tell you that I do not care!" she yelled back at him over the sounds of pounding feet overhead, the wind, thunder and the clanging bell for all hands."So go ahead and administer your stupid powders! They will make me sleep and sleep, so that I do not have to see your ugly face!"
Forsythe gasped as his lower half slid forward with the pitching of the ship. "Felicity! You shall behave yourself at once!"
"Nay, I believe I shall not! Not, not, not!" she yelled back at him defiantly.
The cabin's door swung at him fast, almost as if on cue, as if she had actually willed it to do so, but 'twas merely the motion of the ship on the waves. He kicked it back with one of his beige silk shoe-clad feet. "Why must you be so impossible!"
Felicity folded her arms obstinately and glared at him hard. Despite the vessel's rocking and rolling, the crazy sway of the overhead lantern and the room's chair and chamberpot sliding back and forth, she remained unmoved on the bolted bed. "Because you stole me away from my family!"
"You agreed to marry me!"
"So you would leave my family and friends alone!"
"And are they not?" He was thrust forward as if pushed rudely from behind. He grabbed hold of the door's dull brass doorknob handle as his feet skidded out from under him.
"You never said anything about taking me away from my family!"
"Because I needn't have had to! I told you that!"
"And I tell you that you should have!" Felicity's eyes were dangerously dark and fierce as she watched him release his hold on the doorknob and clamp onto the frame at the foot of the bed. He was completely on the floor now. "I should have never agreed to marry you!"
"But if you ever want to see your family again, you will!" His head and its receeding hairline came up over the end of the bed as he scrambled like mad to get upright again.
"My family knows that I would rather die than to marry you!" There was a bone-vibrating roll of thunder and more shouting from the men who were topside. Felicity didn't even flinch. She kept her arms folded tightly against herself. "They would understand!"
Exasperated, stressed and extremely queasy, Reginald moved, mangaed to get himself up so that he could sit at the foot of the bed. His thin hands gripped the bedframe shakingly. "Felicity, you are not being practical! I can give you a life that other young ladies only dream about! You can be treated like a queen and have everything you desire! How can you say you do not want that?"
Felicity swung her legs and dress over the side of the bed and scooted away from him, up to the top of the bed. "Because it is the truth! I do not want anything from you or even to do with you! I want my family! I want Ben!"
"That damnable apprentice?" Forsythe cried incredulously as he involuntarily swayed along with the ship's movement. "You will soon forget all about him after you are married to me! The idiot abandoned you in your hour of need; seems to me you would be quite furious with him!"
Oh, indeed she was! She was angry at Ben for not believing in her, for having such little faith in their love that he could just easily turn on her like that. But Ben was not here, and she sure as hell was not anywhere near Williamsburg anymore. Forsythe was here and he was the cause of all of this. She would make damn sure she ruined his life the way he had ruined hers. Completely. "And it seems to me," she shot back loudly over the wind and thunder, "that you would see that I utterly despise you and you would leave me alone!"
"Nonsense!" He edged closer to her. "You will come around, Felicity. You will see that I knew what was best for you all along!"
"Oh no I won't!" She leaned back away from him as far as she could from his unsteady advancing. What did he think he was trying to do? "You will be the one to see!"
"Felicity Merriman, you will submit to me-!"
She had timed her nausea well. As he made a grab for her, she lurched forward, as did her stomach, and threw up all over the front of his luxurious tan and gold clothing. A greasy dinner of ham, beans, and some other meat that she could not, nor dared not try to, identify combined at just the right moment with the swaying and lurching of the ship, working well to her advantage.
Forsythe recoiled in horror, uttering a high-pitched cry that was a mix of surprise and disgust. He was up and staggering back as he stared in shock at the state of his expensive clothing. Felicity merely held her stomach with one hand and held her dinner napkin over her mouth with the other.
She had, incredibly, nearly laughed.
"Felicity! How could-this is-oh! Ugh!" The ship's bow dipped without warning, sending him tumbling backwards with flailing arms, out of the little cabin and into the narrow corridor. Felicity rose, and with the forward tilting of the ship slid to the door and slammed it shut, not that it needed much help.
"And stay out!" she screamed.
He did.
The ship did not sink that night, either. But Felicity Merriman did learn something that night as well: even under the worst of circumstances she could still fight. She had not changed her mind about taking her own life before Forsythe could attempt consumating the marriage-that thought alone could induce regurgitation-but she was finding a bizarre amount of strength simply from her own will to defy her oppressors. She was still Felicity.
And she was one hell of a projectile vomiter.
Late that afternoon of Felicity's abduction, Ben had successfully wrangled Elizabeth and Arthur back to the Merriman house, complete with Mr. and Mrs. Cole. The Merriman family, sans Felicity and William (the latter of whom was currently out with Marcus looking for Felicity), were in the parlor. Edward Merriman was at least sitting down now on the sofa, with Martha close by his side keeping a close eye on the dressings of his wounds. Nan sat stonily in a chair by the fire with her hands in her lap, looking lost as she stared at the floor. Polly sat by Nan's legs holding her floppy stuffed bunny, a sentimental gift Felicity had made for her one Christmas out of clothing scraps with button eyes and feathers for the stuffing. Polly was the youngest, therefore she did not truly understand all of what was going on, just that something serious had happened concerning Felicity, and that everyone was upset and worried.
Surely her big brother and hero William would find Felicity and bring her home so that everyone could be happy again. Father could not get well unless his family was all together.
As soon as Ben hauled the glaring Elizabeth and the ailing Arthur into the Merriman's parlor, Arthur took to the nearest chair, Nan stood up immediately, and Elizabeth crossed her arms again and strode to the farthest corner of the room with her back to everyone. and his wife stood stiffly beside Ben, not quite knowing what to say since they were very much sided with Elizabeth against Felicity and Arthur. On top of that was knowing that Edward Merriman had recently been shot twice and looked absolutely sick in all sorts of ways to make the Coles feel jumbled in their emotions and opinions.
"Here, sir," Ben breathed urgently. "They are here. Now I must go find Felicity!" He turned to stride back out of the room when Mr. Merriman halted him with a quick, "Ben..."
He looked back expectantly.
"I need you here. Like I said."
"But sir, I-!"
"Ben, I cannot argue with you just now." Mr. Merriman was paler than before Ben had left. "Remember what I told you about having a plan of my own?"
Mr. Cole stepped forward, looking extremely uncomfortable. "Look, Edward, I am very sorry about your condition, but since these turns of events-"
"Simon," Mr. Merriman interjected softly but firmly, "I am very glad that you and your wife are here. There is much to discuss and a short time to discuss it all in. You must know that we have all been victimized."
"'Victimized'?" Mrs. Cole looked to Mrs. Merriman, who looked heart-sick. "I do not understand."
"Here." Edward leaned forward as best he could, holding out the crinkled paper that was Jiggy Nye's note. "Read this."
Equally confused, Mr. Cole took the paper, straightened it out and read it softly under his breath as his wife leaned close to him to read it herself. As Simon Cole's lips moved, Mr. Merriman said, "Jiggy Nye was found dead with that note beneath his hand. His apprentice has already confirmed that that is Nye's handwriting, but the point is that Nye overheard Reginald Forsythe's plan to trap my daughter and Arthur. And because he did, he was murdered."
Ben stepped forward also. "And Elizabeth told me that a big burly man wearing hunter's clothing stopped her on the street this morning! He told her where to find Lissie and Arthur! 'Twas this Gooch-person that works for Forsythe!"
Mr. and Mrs. Cole looked at each other, startled, for their judgements had indeed just been shaken once more. Though Elizabeth's back was still turned to them all, her head at least turned in their direction.
"That is what I was trying to tell you, dearest Beth!" Arthur moaned ailingly, again propping himself up on elbows and head in hands."This Gooch altered our drinks! We became affected and passed out, and when we woke, we found ourselves just as you did! Felicity and I did nothing to betray you or young Benjamin! Don't you know that whether sane or immensely intoxicated I would never, ever commit such an act of sin? I would never betray you or our friends!"
Elizabeth slowly turned around, her teary blue eyes uncertain. "But you and Felicity always seemed so close..."
Arthur looked at her with exasperated, pleading eyes. "Well of course we were! Felicity and I are lovers of gags! There are no romantic feelings between us of any sort- there never have been! I love her as a friend, as your friend, as your sister, as yet another sister to me! Why, I even told her that she made an excellent brother!"
Despite all, Polly giggled at that.
"Elizabeth, I have always thought of the three of us as jokesters," he continued. "Felicity and I are bonded by humor and comedy, and even more so, bonded by you! Through our love for you! Felicity loves you just as much as her own family, and I love you more than life itself! You know that!"
Nan turned to Elizabeth and touched her shoulder. "Elizabeth, listen to him! Where is your faith? You cannot always trust your eyes! And you know Felicity loves you too much to ever betray you!"
Mr. Merriman nodded grimly. "Aye, Beth. Felicity and Arthur commited no act of deciet against you or Ben. According to Ben, Forsythe had even warned him that he would not know what was happening until it had already happened. But none of us believed Reginald would arrange for such a disaster that would devastate us all into such a distraction that Forsythe could- " here he had to swallow unsteadily "-steal Felicity away from us. And as for my shooting, 'twas Ben he meant to kill, not me."
Mr. Cole nodded, closed his eyes and wordlessly handed the note from Jiggy Nye to his daughter. Elizabeth took it carefully, held it in both hands and turned to face them all fully as she, too, read it's contents. After a moment's contemplation, she said to Arthur, "But why were you so willing to have drinks with a strange man you did not know?"
Arthur gripped a chair arm to steady himself with. "I had stopped at the Wetherburn for my usual hot toddy and slice of mince meat. This 'Gooch' of whom you have heard us speak approached me having heard my English, and struck up a conversation about being from England. I was so excited about our upcoming wedding that I indulged him without thinking twice. He insisted that we make a toast to the wedding day, then Felicity came in. She had been looking for Ben because it was late and she was afraid something had happend to him or he had gone off somewhere, and because I was late in getting to the Merriman house to meet Beth, she was looking for me, too! Mr. Gooch insisted that she join us for the toast and that an Englishman always keeps his word...Well...I thought there was no harm in it, drinking a toast to the happiest day of my life! He insisted on buying, so I relented, as long as it would not take much time. He left the table for a few minutes...if I had known that he had tainted our drinks I would not have..." He sagged miserably back down in the chair.
"The brute knew exactly what he was doing," Mr. Merriman agreed, on poor Arthur's behalf. "Taking advantage of Arthur's good nature- and my daughter's. I assume Forsythe told his man about your habit of stopping at the Tavern, and so he was to follow you there and see to it you became imbibed."
"But how could Forsythe have known Felicity was even looking for Arthur?" Elizabeth asked Mr. Merriman, the doubt still evident in her voice.
"Felicity was watched by Forsythe a lot," Mr. Merriman sighed. "With me being wounded and Ben not home, who else would go out searching for a friend who was late in coming home?" He shook his head in sickened wonder. "Remember, Elizabeth, Forsythe is a greatly disturbed and spoiled individual. He offered me money in exchange for Felicity, as you recall. For all we know, he really had no plan at all and simply waited for opportunities, which, unfortunately for all of us, worked in his favor!"
"You are her best freind!" entreatied Nan, with severe disappointment in her voice. "You and Felicity were like sisters long before you ever even met Arthur! How could you think Felicity would do such a horrible thing to you, knowing that she loved Ben so very much?" And just as Ben feared would happen, Nan Merriman turned her wrath upon him. "And you especially! Though I am utterly disgusted by you, I am not surprised by your behavior! You have never been reliable! I always knew you would hurt my sister badly and you most certainly did! You do not deserve her! She told me she would rather be dead than be married to Forsythe, and now because of you, she just might be!"
"Believe me, Nan, I am more sorry than words can say!" Ben told her shakingly. "I will be the first one to tell you that I just did not think! I reacted- I let all of my fears and insecurities about Felicity truly loving me being too good to be true take over me! And now I am suffering for it!"
"You are suffering?" Nan's teeth clenched. the bristling fourteen year old took a step toward him, her dark blue eyes flashing raw fury. "You are not the one in the hands of a lunatic! You practically gave her to him! If my sister is dead, her blood is on your hands! Oh, I just hate you, Ben Davidson! You murderer!"
"Nanette!" Edward Merriman barked sharply, the exertion visibly making him weak. "That is more than enough! We are all suffering! We have all been Forsythe's victims! But turning on each other is not going to help the situation, nor help Felicity in any way!"
Nan held Ben's sorrowful gaze with her own furious eyes, until Ben was the one to look away, guilt-ridden and broken-hearted. Mr. Merriman was about to speak again, when Nan turned to the Coles and said (with every intention of making them feel guilty, too), "And I assume you know nothing about Annabelle's part in all of this?"
A shocked-induced slience fell heavily upon the room. "Young lady," gulped Mrs. Cole, trembling, "are you implying-"
"'Implying'?" Nan interrupted incedulously. "Oh, nay, Mrs. Cole, I am informing! 'Twas not even a week ago that I espied Lord Forsythe deep in conversation with your Annabelle while out on Duke of Gloucester Street. She handed him a rolled up parchment and looked around to see if anyone was watching them. They did not see me because I had just stopped in front of Jenny Wheaton to exchange pleasantries. I went along to Father's store, and when I came out, Forsythe was about to go in." She spared Ben a nasty look. "'Twas the day he came in just to purposely rile you."
Ben closed his eyes in guiltful regret.
"'Tis up to you whether you want to question Annabelle about it or not." Nan turned back to Elizabeth. "Being her sister, tell me something, Elizabeth: does allying herself with Reginald Fosythe sound like something she would do? Can anyone here think of a reason why Annabelle might want to cause problems for my sister?"
Mr. and Mrs. Cole exchanged an uneasy look.
"Oh for Christ's sake," Ben muttered in knowing realization,
Polly, being a Merriman and therefore not quite so oblivious to everything, pulled her knees up and hugged her floppy bunny very hard. "Annabelle doesn't like Lissie. She likes Ben." Just like her beloved older sister, the girl had a knack for saying aloud what others only thought.
Elizabeth grasped Nan's hands desperately. "Oh Nan...I know Annabelle has always been jealous of Felicity, but to become involved with a plot that would involve hurting me and Arthur-?"
"So you believe me?" Arthur stood up with his heart in his throat.
"I-I-I think so," Nan sputtered bewilderingly. "B-But Annabelle is in love with Major Crumb...why would she still be pining for Ben if-if-if-"
'Twas Mr. Cole who answered her, with a heavy sigh: "Because Annabelle is used to getting her way, dearest. Before she was born, Eliza- your mother- suffered numerous miscarriages." He had to stop to wipe a hand over his eyes, grip the consoling hand of his wife that laid upon his shoulder. "Annabelle was the first child ever carried to term and survive. And good God, we were so ecstatic that we indulged her wholeheartedly. That is our fault. We all know she set her heart on Ben here, and I believe she never truly got over it. Of course she loves Basil, but I know she will always harbor a grudge against your girl, Edward, for being the one who won Ben Davidson."
"Mr. Cole," Ben said frankly, "I was never interested in Annabelle. My regard for her was only politeness and courtesy, especially since she is the sister of my good friend Elizabeth. I never gave Annabelle false intentions or suggestions."
Nan glared at him, then said to the Coles, "Is Annabelle not at home this instant? Can you not just ask her what her business with Reginald Forsythe was? Perhaps she knows something that can be of use to us!" She looked to Elizabeth. "Make her swear upon your bond as sisters and before God to tell you the truth about what she knows!"
Mr. Merriman's eyes went from Nan to Elizabeth.
"I will!" Elizabeth's chin came up. She met each of their eyes in turn. "I shall go this instant and fetch my sister!" She spun in a whirl of lavender skirts and breezed out the parlor door. But within a second, her upper-half reappeared back around the door frame, and to Arthur she snapped, "Well? Are you coming with me or not?"
"Oh Elizabeth!" Arthur cried joyfully. Though his face was shadowed with nausea, his eyes had their sparkle back. "Does this mean-?"
"Of course it does! Now help me fetch Annabelle quick, for my very best friend in the whole world is in terrible danger!" And as still sickly Arthur Pratt sprang after his beloved in several happy staggers, they could all hear Elizabeth burst into tears as she left, crying, "Lissie, Lissie! Why did I not stop to think!"
Mr. Cole sighed heavily and looked at Mr. Merriman. "I, ah, believe we owe you an appology, Edward. For daring to think for one moment that your girl, who's been like a sister to our Elizabeth could, could-"
"Never mind that, Simon," Mr. Merriman said with understanding in his strained voice. "Reginald Forsythe has preyed upon our weaknesses, but we will not be weak any longer."
"Sir!" pleaded Ben, his impatience wearing the thinnest yet. "Please, sir, what can we do to save Felicity? You said you, too, had a plan!"
"And indeed I do, Ben." He coughed, breathed deep, and squeezed the hand of his wife that touched his arm. "Forsythe is already hours away, but I know you know the roads North. How fast can you be ready to go after him?"
"I am ready now, sir!"
On the inside, Edward Merriman's heart filled with love for the youthful captain. He could not be cross with Ben about losing faith in Felicity for long, for he knew often the guilt and agony over a moment's weakness was punishment in itself. The young man was obviously in emotional agony now. Indeed, Ben needed action to keep them all from succombing to madness. He inhaled again. "Not quite, Ben. Get whatever you need to take with you-being a soldier, you aready know how to assemble within a minute. Go by Walter Wheaton's house: I know he has a horse he can spare you. He might even offer to go with you, that would be most like him to do so. If you encounter Marcus, William, and Caleb Haverty, then tell them what you're about. If any of them wish to go with you...let them."
He and Ben exchanged a look; a look that only men accustomed to war were all too familiar with, that without verbal communication spoke of understanding that one will do whatever one must, no matter what the cost, and by whatever means necessary.
"As I've said before, he will most likely be traveling by carriage. It makes the most sense. Therefore, Ben, take the road that would be the best choice for a carriage. Follow your instincts, and pray you will overtake Forsythe."
Mr. Cole swallowed hard, his face set with determination."If there is anything you need, anything at all we can do, I am at your service, Edward."
Mrs. Cole sat down swiftly on Martha's other side. "As am I , Martha. You shall not bear this burden alone."
"Thank you, both of you," Mrs. Merriman said, her voice tinged with stress. "All I need is to have my daughter home and my husband well. This entire situation is as close to madness as we've ever been!"
"Be strong, love," Edward urged, doing his damndest to take his own advice. "Ben will bring Felicity home, and then I will get better." He nodded curtly to Ben, who understood immediately and spun on his heel, eager to be going.
Nan stared after him, her stare not at all showing any belief in him. Somehow, in the depths of her already aching soul, she knew Ben Davidson would not be returning with Felicity.
CHAPTER FINISHED!