Free Love's Odyssey by Jane Toombs Page A

another?" Margitte broke in. "I was asked to chaperone you so you wouldn't forget yourself with this cadet. Do you intend to be discreet? Tell me now and we shall both save much trouble."
    "Pieter is only a friend," Romell said coldly.
    "Then you must see that he doesn't become too intimate a friend on the voyage. We shall be together on this ship for six to nine months. Much can happen in that time. As I said, you're pretty. Why involve yourself with a junior officer, and one in poor repute at that? You can do much better, even aboard the Zuiderwind. "
    "I don't intend to encourage Pieter," Romell said indignantly. Please don’t trouble yourself on my account."
    "Ah, she's dressed like a mouse but spits like a tiger." Margitte smiled and turned away. "I don't plan to let anyone trouble me," she said over her shoulder.
    If Mevrouw Van Slyke only knew how I feel about Pieter, Romell thought, closing her cabin door. She didn't like to recall opening his farewell present—luckily in the privacy of her room—or her frenzied attempts to rid herself of the tiny exquisitely-painted miniature before her cousins saw it. She'd had no idea that men and women did such things—much less that an artist would paint them. 
    Remembering it now made her grimace, and she pushed the memory from her mind and began arranging her belongings about her small cabin.
    The Zuiderwind lay at anchor that night, and Romell fell asleep to the gentle sway of a ship afloat at a sheltered moorage. The next morning she came up onto the quarterdeck to find cargo still being loaded. As she watched, bearded seamen, under the direction of a ship's officer, lugged brass-bound wooden chests into a large cabin under the poopdeck. Romell presumed the cabin was the captain's.
    A tall slender man of about thirty-five with a small pointed beard came out of the cabin and glanced over at her. She smiled and inclined her head slightly. He wore the conservative black of the Amsterdam burgher with a white lace collar and broad-brimmed black hat.
    Although not particularly distinguished, he was pleasant looking.
    "Are you the captain?" she asked, wondering at his lack of uniform.
    He smiled and swept off his hat as he walked over to where she stood. "No," he said, bowing. "I’m Commandeur Zwaan, Senior Merchant for the VOC, in charge of the Zuiderwind. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance— Mejuffrouw--?"
    " Wellsley" she said .
    "Excuse me, but you are not Dutch?”"
    Romell laughed. "I know I speak your language poorly, I’m English. But, Commandeur, if you’re in charge, aren’t you considered to be the captain?"
    "Skipper Hardens handles the actual navigation and sailing. He’s the sailor, I’m the landsman."
    "So you’ve appropriated another pretty young lady, have you?" a man’s voice said from Romell’s left. She glanced sideways at a man of about the Commandeur’s age, dressed in a dark-blue uniform. He had a heavier beard and was both shorter and broader, as well as coarser looking.
    "May I present Skipper Hardens?" the commandeur said stiffly.
    As Romell acknowledged the introduction she found the captain standing too close to her for her liking and moved slightly away.
    "I’ve never seen an Indiaman before," she said. "Such a large ship. I understand there are over three hundred people aboard."
    Skipper Hardens grinned. "And a six-hundred-ton cargo. She’s one hundred and forty feet from stem to stern, forty feet in the beam and forty feet from deck to keel." As he spoke his gaze left hers to look over her shoulder, the last words said absently.
    "How fascinating!" Margitte's husky voice came from behind Romell, who turned to greet her.
    The words of greeting stuck in Romell's throat. Walking beside Margitte was Adrien Montgomery.
    Adrien was a contrast to the soberly dressed Dutchmen, in a blue velvet jerkin and breeches, topped by a dark red cape, and a beaver hat with ostrich-feather trim. He swept off his hat and bowed to Romell. "Miss