Free Captain in Calico by George MacDonald Fraser Page B

tongue, to mind her own business and be gone. She was too bold; too forthright. He could have excused her that if she had been a tavern wench, but she was not. There were the signs of wealth about her, and her voice, for all its oaths and masculinity, was not uneducated. These things, taken with her heavy paint and challenging eyes, made her a queer paradox of a woman; instinct warned him that she was dangerous. But his hand and side were stinging most damnably, and his head throbbed. And so he made the decision which was to change the course of his life, with two words.
    â€˜Thank you.’ He turned to the Major. ‘If Mistress Bonney has anything that will take the ache from these cuts, I’d be a fool to refuse.’
    The Major nodded solemnly. He seemed vaguely unwilling, but Rackham was too tired to take notice of him.
    They drove up the slight incline through the town, and then the coach wheeled to take the eastern coast road. Lulled by the gentle rocking of the vehicle, Rackham leaned back and allowed his tired body to relax. Soon they were passing through the cane-fields, with their gangs of black slaves working in the blazing sun. Somewhere one of them was chanting in a deep, strong voice, and Rackham closed his eyes and dozed to that slow, haunting melody.
    The stopping of the coach shook him out of his half-sleep. They were through the cane-fields now, and were halted on a stretch of road which ran through a quiet palm-grove.
    Major Penner had climbed out of the carriage, and looking about for explanation Rackham noticed a small drive winding between the palms to a white, green-shuttered house half-hidden among the trees. Penner was looking uneasy and fidgeting with his hat; he was, apparently, bidding good-bye to Mistress Bonney. Rackham could make nothing of this.
    â€˜Is this your house?’ he asked her.
    â€˜Not yet. I recollected I had a call to make on Mistress Roberts – hers is the house yonder – and Major Penner has gallantly offered to carry a message for me. It is vastly obliging of him. I don’t doubt that Fletcher Roberts will bid him to dinner.’
    Her explanation was sounding oddly like a series of instructions; the Major could hardly have looked less gallant or obliging.
    â€˜I shall look for you again, Major,’ she continued, and although she favoured him with her most gracious smile there was finality in her tone. ‘In the meantime have no fear for your charge.’ And before Rackham could speak the carriage was rolling off and Penner was left standing by the roadside.
    Rackham half-turned in his seat to call the driver to halt, but the sudden movement brought a fiery wrench to the wound in his side, and he sank back, gasping with pain. Mistress Bonney, seeing him go suddenly pale, started forward in her seat, only to relax as he lifted his head angrily.
    â€˜Why did you leave him there?’
    Her generous red lips parted in a slow smile. ‘I have good reasons for what I do.’
    â€˜It seems so.’ He frowned at her. ‘You’re over-masterful for a woman, mistress.’
    She laughed at that. ‘It’s easy seen you’ve never called a woman wife, captain. Wait till you’re wed and you’ll know what mastery is.’ She leaned forward again and gently pressed him back into his seat, and he submitted, partly because he doubted his ability to resist, partly because he saw the folly of becoming over-excited.
    Mistress Bonney stood up, and despite the rocking of the coach, changed seats gracefully and sat down beside him. Drawing a kerchief from her sleeve she gently wiped the perspiration from his face and brow, and he confessed to himself that her touch was vastly soothing.
    â€˜There.’ She dropped the kerchief over the side of the coach and sat back from him. ‘A little cleaner, and a deal calmer. Give him a few hours’ sleep and a bite to eat and he’ll be the man he was two hours ago. To set