Demons & Pearls (The Razor's Adventures Book 1) (6 page)

“Aye, Captain.”

“Ladies, follow me and do us all the kindness of allowin’ me ta’ introduce ye ta’ Missus McCormack.  And fer the love a’ Christ, keep yer traps shut,” he whispered to us before we filed in.

The Captain led us into the grand parlor of the home. We were beyond impressed with our accommodations, but we weren’t naive enough to think we wouldn’t be earning the roof over our heads; we certainly weren’t guests in this house.

“Millie, allow me ta’ introduce Miss Ivory Shepard, the eldest of the girls.”

“How do you do, Lady McCormack,” I asked as I bowed to her.

“Why do ye bow like a man? Didn’t yer mother teach ye proper?” Millie McCormack snapped with a scowl. She was a tall, lean woman of about thirty-five, with coal black hair, and her golden brown eyes were slanted slightly. Either that, or her bun was far too tight.

“Never really had a mother, and our aunt and uncle who raised us died when we were just girls.”

“Well, that’s no excuse for not knowing a proper curtsy. We’ll work on that. Do ye always wear men’s clothes, too?”

“Well, ma’am, I suppose I do. I prefer to do men’s work, so the clothes just help with that.”

“Who’s next?” she sneered and fanned her hand at me, “This one’s a lost cause.”

I laughed under my breath. For as much as Lady McCormack cared about us being proper ladies, she spoke like a street trollop and carried herself like a sailor. With her boney knuckles pressed into her hips and the swagger in her walk, I could see immediately that Lady McCormack wasn’t a lady at all, no matter how hard she tried.

“Yer all maids, I assume? I won’t have whores in my home.”

We all nodded and smiled sweetly until I thought I’d burst into laughter. It was funny to imagine a woman like this insisting that we all be maids. Once we’d all been scrutinized and she’d waved us off due to our dripping and less than pleasant aromas, she requested the Jamaican woman we now knew as Coco to strip us of our clothes so they could be laundered and to get us bathed and ready for dinner within the hour. She had obviously, as the Captain mentioned, done this before—more than once. We were bathed, provided with clean clothes, and brought down to the dinner table as instructed. Thank goodness we’d still maintained our good table manners, even on the farm. Otherwise, had I been forced to endure any more of her lectures that evening, my razor may have shown her that her hospitality left a lot to be desired, severing any opportunity to find out if there was more to this witch than just her tight bun and even tighter arse.

Chapter Six

~Ladies in Waiting~

As our first real night ashore fell over the house, I was already figuring my way out. We had to sleep two to a bed, but Cassandra was a heavy sleeper. She hardly moved when she slept, which allowed me to slip away during the night to do a bit of exploring alone, long before the rest of the house would wake. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I’d find what I was looking for in this town—a hard, toe-curling drink. I wrapped my hair tightly, covered it with a scarf, and pressed Uncle William’s old cavalier down hard on my head. Out the bedroom window I went and down the trellis.

The main street was easy to find. All I did was follow the gold and orange glow of lanterns in the dark until they grew closer. The noise pulled me in as well—and there was plenty of it. I imagined even at this ungodly hour of the night, this wasn’t the peak of it. The alleyways I slid through were shadowed by mossy stone walls. I could hear the gentle splash of waves beneath the ebbs and flows of laughter from the taverns, as they beat against the beach and the ships around the wharfs. I knew I was conjuring a cauldron of secrets on this night, but regardless of the stench that arose from the steaming pot I was stirring, there was no way I was turning back. 

As I came around the corner of what I discovered was New Street, entering the alley that led to what appeared to be a courtyard full of taverns, I had the unfortunate luck to stumble upon the grunting and groaning of an entwined couple doing their dirty business and rather enjoying it, much to my dismay. Since they were so passionately engaged against a wall behind a cart loaded with empty crates, I decided to make a dash for the courtyard in hopes of not being noticed. However, as I made my pass, the woman had apparently been keeping a watchful eye and cried out, accusing me of spying.

I kept my feet under me, raced to the end of the alley, and ducked my head into a tavern doorway. Something inside of me held me back from going all the way in. I peeked around and saw half the men were passed out drunk, and the rest eyed me like a stray dog. I took two steps to back myself out the door, when I felt something, or someone, hit me hard across the back. I arched my body in pain and stumbled forward from the stoop before I caught myself on one of the wooden tables set up outside. Whoever was behind me kept coming, and I felt an arm wrap tightly around my neck.

My first thought was to reach for my sword, but then I remembered I’d been stripped of my arms aboard the ship. I struggled against the man to free myself, if not to escape his violent assault, then definitely to relieve myself of his foul breath upon me as he pulled my head back next to his in the skirmish.

“Get yer bloody hands off a’ me!” I shouted as I kicked and fought my way out of his grip and turned on him with a crushing punch to his foul mouth. My screwed-on cavalier had come loose, but thankfully my scarf had remained in place. As I scrambled to the ground to retrieve it, the man’s boot met me square in the chin, sending me backwards onto my arse. The taste of my own blood filled my mouth, and I could feel my jaw beginning to swell as I rubbed at it lightly and looked up at the man.

I had had enough. On my way to my feet, I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my razor. I flipped it open, and the stranger and I squared off. “I just want a fucking drink, ye bastard!” I shouted at him.  We circled each other—crouched forward as if we were two wild dogs. In his right hand, he held a dagger, and his left was outstretched with only three remaining fingers showing.

“If ye want ta’ keep the rest a’ them fingers, I’m suggestin’ ye move along and leave me be ye…ye…ye scurvy bastard!” I did my best to both disguise my voice and speak in the manner I’d heard so many men speak in the past few weeks.

“Wait just a second,” the man said, and he snatched a lantern from one of the tables and swung it out to get a better view of me. I looked at him sideways, shielding half my face in the shadow that fell beyond the light of the lantern. “Ye ain’t Scrawny Pauley Smith!”

I clenched my razor until my hand felt numb and then swiped at him to back off. I gathered my coat across my heaving chest to conceal my clearly less than obvious breasts.  Since I’d been mistaken for a man, albeit a scrawny one, I had no intention of allowing my backwards good fortune to run out.

“Apologies, lad. Buy ye a drink?” he asked as he stowed away his dagger.

I relaxed my right hand and flipped my razor closed. “Get that light outta me face, and ye’ve got a deal.”

“Not so fast with ye,” I heard someone say.  I turned and looked over my shoulder to find Watts and Townsend wearing sour expressions.

“Can’t ye see I’m makin’ amends with the laddie? Let’s all go and have a drink. ” My now remorseful attacker smiled.

“The laddie here’s our mate. We’ll take care a’ the drink,” Watts said as he stepped toward me and began examining the trickle of blood coming from my lips. Townsend crowded my attacker, effectively pushing him back into the tavern.  Then, both he and Watts stared at me, waiting for my explanation.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble.  I just…” I mumbled and spat out the blood.

“Ye just want a drink, aye?” he asked. “Rip, how’s about ye bring us a bottle?”

“This one’s on me,” Townsend said with a wink and stepped inside.

“Have ye lost yer mind, Ivory?” Watts inquired.             

“Don’t call me that.”

“What do ye suggest I call ye then,
laddie?
” he laughed.

“I can take care of myself, and I don’t need you and Townsend to buy me a drink, either.”

“Okay, I’ll play along with ye fer a bit. Rip and I have been on ye since ye left the Captain’s house. Now who is it that don’t need watchin’? By the way, Townsend was one a’ Barclay’s close mates. Keep yer trap shut, will ye?”

“But how did you know?”

“We’ve been here more times than I can remember, and there’s plenty a’ times I can’t remember.” He laughed. “We seen ye headed fer the alley. We know’d where it comes out. I tried ta’ tell him ta’ forget it, but he’s got this bet thing in his head.”

“I meant how did you know I’d sneak out?” I leaned in and whispered as several tavern patrons staggered by.

“How do we know anythin’ is the question.  It’s just one a’ them things we’re paid ta’ do. I have ta’ tell ye though, most a’ the young ladies that come ta’ stay with Millie sneak out fer reasons that don’t include fightin’ in an alley. Them’s the ones that don’t go home.”

“What do you mean ‘go home’?”

“Cap’n gonna put ye all on a boat soon and get ye outta here. Didn’t ye know?” He leaned in on his elbow and signaled with a finger to his lips for me to keep quiet as Townsend arrived with three glasses and a bottle.

“Me mate, Watts, and I got a bet goin’ about ye, Shepard. Maybe we can settle it over this drink,” Townsend said in his husky rasp of a voice as he poured.

“Ha!”  Watts barked.  “The Ripper here has an idea ‘bout ye, and I say he’s bloody addled. Don’t mistake me, now. Ye’s as far from a lady as he is.”

“I have no interest in what either of you think of me,” I groaned and raised my glass before swigging it down.

“Holy shite, the wench be a lush!” Watts laughed.

“Maybe so, bucko, but that don’t mean ye win,” Townsend said with a sharp elbow to Watts’s ribs. “Let’s get it settled, so I can gets me winnin’s.”

“Pour me another one, and I’ll settle it,” I said and held out my glass.

Townsend leaned across the table, and as he poured he asked, “Do ye prefer tits or cock?”

My reflex reaction sent the contents of my freshly poured glass of rum into his grimy mug so fast he didn’t even have time to get out of the way. “What the ‘ell did ye do that fer?” he shouted at me as I stood and shoved him back into his seat. “I’ll skin ye, ye witch!” he shouted, and his chair toppled over. Watts fell into hysterical laughter.

“She’ll wipe up this alley with yer arse, Rip, so ye better stay down there!”

“What a couple of no good bastards you are,” I said, and I snatched the bottle and poured myself another glass. I stood there and watched as Watts helped his mate back to his feet, when Townsend lunged across the table and snatched me by the front of my coat.

“Sit yer arse down, ye crazy wench, afore I sit ye down meself! I already gots me loot fer ye, so who cares if ye turn up missin’?” Townsend growled.  He shoved me back hard and then picked up his glass and poured it into his mouth.

“Cap’n might care, Rip,” River muttered, and he placed his hand on Rip’s shoulder to calm him.

“I don’t need this shit, and I certainly don’t need you two following me around like some stray cat.” I grabbed the back of my chair and flopped back down.

“I aughta take ye in that alley over there and see which one ye like,” Townsend grumbled at me.  The orange glow of the lantern between us lit his light blue eyes like a fiery sunset.

“The last man who tried that ended up with his own dagger poking him in the throat before he even pulled his wee little willie out, so if that’s a threat, you may want to rethink it.” As I spoke, I again pulled my razor and, ever so slowly, folded it open and turned it in the lantern’s glow.

“All this talk is makin’ me thirstier by the minute. You two arses shut yer holes and drink,” Watts said as he poured us all another round, emptying the bottle. “And I’ll thank ye not ta’ be wastin’ anymore, Shepard.”

“Then stop talking your foul rubbish,” I growled at him under my breath.

“I’d still like ta’ put a boot in yer arse,” Townsend said while he sat back in his seat and scowled at me. His thick, bushy eyebrows nearly covered his eyes.

“Watts, go get us one more, and I’ll settle the bet.  But, I have a few conditions,” I leaned across the table at them and whispered. Watts jumped from his seat. He rushed inside the tavern and reappeared with a bottle in each hand.  

“Ha!” he shouted and laughed. “Now, about the bet.”

“First, I want you to tell me about Lady McCormack.”

“Now, Ivory, ye know we can’t…” Watts said with a frown.

“Tits or cock, ye asked. If ye want to know, then I have things I need to know,” I interrupted and stowed my razor.

“I’ll tell ye. The way I see it, we could ‘ave ye tossed out in the street by mornin’, and ye could ‘ave us booted from the
Demon
fer sittin’ with ye drinkin’. So, let’s all get drunk and tell a few tales, then,” Townsend said.  He sat forward and pulled his dagger. I sucked in a chest full of Jamaican wind and reached for my weapon, but he slammed his hand down and drove the tip of the dagger into the table top.

“The way I heared ’twas…a long time ago, Cap’n met her here in a brothel. She was a youngin’ and just put ta’ work. He fell hard, so’s they say. She was one a’ them natives from Florida they brung here. Could barely say two words a’ English. Had hair as black as midnight, damn near down ta’ her knees. Cap’n was a buccaneer in them days and had more Spanish gold than he had brains. He built that big house fer her, too, after the quake. Not sure if he built that wall to keep ‘er safe or to keep ‘er in.” 

“Then why does she act as if she’s some fine lady? I mean, I had a feeling she wasn’t English, but…”

“Cap’n swore he’d make a lady outta her, and he tried. Compared ta’ what ye find here on this pile a’ sand, she’s the closest thing ta’ a lady you’ll find.” Watts laughed. “Well, that was ‘til yer lot got here. Lady McCormack keeps an eye on the girls, ye know; cleans ‘em up and gets ‘em ready.” He winked. “She polishes the silver.”

“Watts! Ye stupid arse!”

“Come on now, Shepard, what is it? We held up our end a’ the deal,” Watts begged.

“Neither.”

“Now hold on a minute there, lass,” Townsend said.

“You call me ‘lass’ one more time, and I’ll…”

“It’s got ta’ be one or the other, now. Ye can’t say neither,” Watts whined.

“I have no interest in sex at all, no matter who it’s with. Sorry, gents, but ye both lose…or ye both win. Now, unless you both want to be looking for a new captain, we better get back. The sun’s about to come up. We should do this again sometime.” I had no intention of ever entertaining these fools again, but my sarcasm was lost on drunken ears, and I’d gained a wealth of information for my trouble.

“I still ‘ave a question fer ye before we go,” Townsend said, as he pulled his dagger from the table and began to pick at his filthy fingernails. “What’s yer story, and why do ye go around the way ye do…if it ain’t tits?”