Read Dare To Love Online

Authors: Trisha Fuentes

Tags: #historical, #funny, #thomas, #humorous, #maritime, #dare, #gwen

Dare To Love (24 page)

 

Mary flew to her mother’s side and held her
hand, “Oh Mummie, please, please wake up, please do not die. What
will I do without you? I will be all alone, please Mummie, please.”
Mary buried her head into her mother’s breast and felt Gwendolyn’s
hand reach for her head.

 

“My darling daughter,” Gwendolyn barely
spoke, “Get me some water.”

 

Mary immediately reacted and ran towards the
vanity. Pouring her mother a cup of water, she ran back with it and
aided the drink to Gwendolyn. “Here Mummie, now gently, there now,
drink Mummie, drink.”

 

“You do…you do look like him,” Gwendolyn
breathed, trying to reach out to touch Mary’s cheek but fell short
of doing so.

 

“Like who? Oh Mummie!” Mary rested her
mother’s head back down on the pillow and watched in horror as
Gwendolyn closed her eyes and seemed to drift back to stillness.
“Mr. McMillen, why is Mummie like this? Why is she so hot?”

 

Charles scooped off his cap and held it in
front of him, “Unsure child, we all ate the same food, slept in the
same inns on the way home…and yar mum, yar mum twas the only one
tae come down with the fever.”

 

“Then she is ill then? She needs a cool cloth
to her head? That’s what Mummie does for me when I do not feel
well,” Mary stated, running towards the basin again. She pulled out
a nappy from within a drawer and submerged it in the water.
Wringing it twice within her hands, she hurriedly went back to
Gwendolyn and gently placed it across her mother’s forehead. “I
love you Mummie, I am going to take care of you,” Mary whispered
tenderly brushing aside locks of hair that adhered to her cast.

 

“That’s so sweet of ya Mary, yar mum loves ya
so,” Charles remarked, feeling guilty for being so selfish in his
haste to make Gwendolyn his wife. “I shouldna taken her,” he
gushed, feeling his heart soften, “Shouldna left her there.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

 

 

Captain Hummel instructed his men to set his
prisoners free, insisted the two men have supper with him to
discuss the plan to free his daughter. Devin was released first,
while Thomas was still bound and chained. As soon as his hands were
free however, Devin immediately punched Thomas square in the
gut.

 

“That was for getting me into this mess,”
Devin sneered, and then punched him again only this time, between
his legs. “And that was for my sister.” Thomas hunched over and
fell to his knees; Devin counted to five and then came directly to
his aid helping him back up to his feet wrapping both arms around
his shoulders.

 

“Well warranted,” Thomas heaved, trying to
find his bearings.

 

Laughing off the top of his lungs, Captain
Hummel patted the two lords on their backs as he approached. “I
must say lads, I do get a kick out of watching yew two destroy
yerselves.” Captain Hummel shoved the two men in front of him
playfully, but then Thomas and Devin turned around firm, erect and
stared the Captain down. “Oh my, yew lads are tall. Six foot,
three? Four? Aye?” He questioned, shifting looks from one to the
other, “Come—come, let’s eat—I bet yew boys are famished.”

 

Inside the first class dining room, Devin
noted that the area was planned for meals taken in heavy seas:
benches were set in the walls; bottles and glasses were held in
racks. Captain Hummel had a generous meal prepared for the three,
with roasted meats, hot bread and fresh fruits with an endless
supply of rum and wine.

 

The three of them were in good spirits, until
Captain Hummel shed some light on the past. Captain Hummel was no
lord. After losing his wife to typhoid, he promised his love that
he would take care of their only child. He wanted the best in life
for his little girl, giving her everything she ever wanted on a
seaman’s salary. Practically raising her aboard ship, he felt Anne
required more than merely sea life. She was oftentimes alone, and
at eighteen, Captain Hummel decided that he would arrange a mock
title for his daughter and present her properly.

 

Anne was a raving beauty, with dark brown
hair and eyes of jade. Stealing practically every bachelor’s
attention her first season out, Captain Hummel knew he would have
no worries for his daughter catching a husband. Several bachelors
approached her, but none as smooth and debonair as Monsieur Antoine
Bruneau. Captain Hummel instantly warmed up to his knowledge of the
sea and Anne could not take her eyes off him. Thinking the gent was
going to propose to his lovely daughter, Captain Hummel granted
Monsieur Bruneau a moment alone with Anne. The scoundrel took
advantage of the freedom however, and kidnapped Anne as a
substitute. Captain Hummel was livid, incensed, he had never
encountered a man with such devious intentions and he was once part
of a notorious pirating brigade! Unable to set foot on French land
due to a bounty on his head, Captain Hummel last heard that his
daughter was a house servant for the Empress Josephine.

 

Devin could not believe what he was hearing.
What irony! What a quirk of fate! One his way to France to free the
Captains daughter only to be given free passage towards Monsieur
Bruneau’s intended doom? He would kill him and as soon as he laid
eyes on the slimy weasel, he was going to slice off his tongue,
making sure the suave Frenchman would never seduce another young
maiden for the rest of his wretched life.

 

“Have yew ever wondered lad what exactly
ensued that fateful eventide?” Captain Hummel eerily asked Thomas
who was in mid drink.

 

“Undoubtedly,” Thomas quietly voiced, sipping
the rest of his rum. “Yer brothers gave up such a fight. The elder
one managed to untie his knots and grabbed a blade from one of the
men and stabbed four men in their guts wit’ it.”

 

Thomas’ eyes grew wide and so did Devin’s,
both men contained by incomprehension over the Captain’s
recollection.

 

“Good, glad to hear Jordan did not go
willingly,” Thomas haughtily stated, stabbing his own knife into
the wooden table.

 

Captain Hummel concentrated on the vertical
utensil piercing through his cherished mahogany. “None of yer
brothers went willingly, lad. Only yer fathers. Guess they had to
appear dignified, even at the very end.”

 

Thomas closed his eyes and felt a rush of
responsibility, the rum rapidly numbing his senses and certitude.
“Yes,” he agreed, taking another swallow. “Both gentry were
arrogant, proud men.”

 

“Did yew know lad, that yer mother’s haggled
their bodies for the lives of their two youngsters?”

 

Thomas sat agape. He tried to contemplate
what he just heard…he might have been mistaken. “What?”

 

“Yer death was prevented by a proposition of
sorts.”

 

Captain Hummel could not have said anything
more menacing to Thomas, he sat up straight, leaned in towards the
man and was about to throttle him. “How dare you tarnish the memory
of two respectable women—take that back—or I swear I will use that
knife and slit your bloody throat with it!”

 

Captain Hummel gulped, but sat confident in
his chair. “‘Tis the truth lad…Both women, a picture of perfection
in their expensive ball gowns and refinement, most of the men had
not been wit’ a wench for the past several months, let alone a
female as patrician as those two beauties. Captain Porter was
infatuated wit’ the redhead and wanted to keep her for himself. The
other raven temptress traded herself for the goodwill and
safekeeping of her son and his bride. Captain Porter agreed, and
decided to keep yew alive and drop yew off on a deserted isle
somewhere. He was just about to take the redhead down to the
nearest bedding cabin when a wave of green sea rushed over the
sheer, lifting and capturing both women to their deaths.”

 

Thomas and Devin rose from their seats and
lunged towards Captain Hummel. Thomas got to the man first and
wrapped his hands around his throat, choking, squeezing as hard as
he could. Devin came up from behind Captain Hummel and yanked at
his hair, exposing his gullet for easier access. The Captain’s eyes
began to bug out as he tried to rip away Thomas’ hands from his
throat.

 

“Do you think he is telling the truth,
Thomas?” Devin asked, grabbing the knife with his other free hand
and holding it to the old man’s throat.

 

Captain Hummel repeatedly tried to clear his
gullet, “I will tell yew what happened,” he strained against
Thomas’ grip, “If yew release yer grip and cease from pulling me
hair!”

 

Thomas gazed down at the man; he was ageing,
yes, his voice the only powerful asset left in the mature
buccaneer. Thomas let loose his strong grip on the man’s craw, but
Devin remained steady with the blade still under his chin.

 

“Haven’t yew ever wondered how yew escaped
the assassinations?” He voiced, coughing, heaving air into his
lungs. “Yew was a Hollinger. One and all on board were supposed to
perish.”

 

“Gwendolyn and I were left alone,” Thomas
replied, gritting his teeth. “I remember coming up deck to find all
hands vanished into thin air.”

 

Thomas nodded to Devin to lower his threat
and Devin complied. The two men stood like soaring statues on
either side of the Captain however, their long arms across their
broad chests, rigid and ready for battle.

 

“As soon as Captain Porter realized what
happened, he ordered the first mate to go down to the Great Cabin
to retrieve the newlyweds.”

 

Thomas’ breath quickened, so far, the only
person he saw that morning was…Ralph, the captain’s first mate. “Go
on.”

 

“The first mate went down below to seize the
children when another wave came over the bow and washed away a few
more men. Captain Porter was distracted by the storm coming on so
suddenly, he ordered the sails let down and the rest of the crew
below deck.”

 

So far, Thomas thought, he was accurate about
the events that took place that day, “Continue.”

 

“…
Well, Ralph went down
below and peeked in through the door. Inside, the children were
asleep, resting peacefully wit’ their arms around each other; broke
his heart to see them so innocently unaware. He had a child of his
own; it pained him to know that they would die. Instead, he closed
the door, alerted them, and instructed them to stay in their cabin
until he could loosen a rowboat to get them to safety. Ralph went
back up deck to report to Captain Porter that the children escaped
and the Captain believed him. Captain Porter was not concerned
about the children; he was more concentrated on the Junia. The ship
was a prized scale and he did not want to lose her. Ralph ran back
down to the Great Cabin to find the children
disappeared.”

 

Thomas’ eyes grew wide—he was flabbergasted.
How did this man know everything that happened that evening? In
such vivid detail, how on earth could he have known? Eyeing Captain
Hummel more clearly now, he surveyed his long hair clubbed
together, his extensive beard covering most of his face and neck,
his clothes clean but worn. He was familiar now…dear God, why
hadn’t he seen it before? “It was you?” Thomas managed to ask
before turning away from him.

 

Captain Hummel eyed Thomas gazing out the
beveled glass. “Aye lad, me Christian name is Ralph Hobart Hummel;
I use my middle name for bootlegging purposes.”

 

Thomas eerily spoke below his normal tone,
“You saved my wife, Ralph.”

 

Captain Hummel eyed Devin who was still stiff
beside him. Devin sneered at the man, but was now more concerned
for his friend. “Aye… she was without help, crying and trying to
hold onto the ratlines,” he called to mind, turning away from
Devin’s intimidation and eyeing Thomas on the other side of the
room now. Thomas was gazing out the beveled glass towards the ocean
and he tried to solicit his compassion. “The wind was cruel that
morn, brushing her easily aside. I came up behind her and grabbed
her grip away from the ropes, carrying her off towards the stern
ladder. We jumped onto the rowboat that was already hoisted down
and quickly rolled away. We were afloat no more than a coupla hours
when the waves pushed us into another British vessel.”

 

“I—I do not know how to thank you.”

 

“Saving me daughter will do.”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE

 

 

Two months identical, sixty days of waiting
and wondering if Gwendolyn would get stronger but no change, she
was still weak, still incoherent, still burning with fever.
Gwendolyn would jerk back and forth, to and fro, and then spring
from the bed to the washbasin to vomit only to fall back to bed
practically unconscious. Phyllis would get excited for a split
second then watch in fright as Gwendolyn would fall back to
sleep.

 

Charles too, was very worried about her.
Bless his heart; the man was just too kindhearted by far. Between
herself and Charles, the two of them would alternate shifts and
stand vigil at Gwendolyn’s bedside, Charles in the early morning
and Phyllis late at night; coming to her aid when Gwendolyn
happened to stir or twitch.

 

“Dr. Peabody, what is your diagnosis?”
Phyllis asked impatiently, pacing out in front of him.

 

“Some kind of extensive fever, Miss Tallyman,
could be yellow fever, comes on so suddenly and consumes a person,”
he stated in a cold austere tone.

 

“Yellow feva!” Charles exclaimed, running his
hand through his hair in frustration.

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