A | B | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14A | 14B | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30A | 30B | 31 | 32 | 33
PART II
MAY, 1780
OXFORD STREET
LONDON, ENGLAND
MARY MANAGED to arrange to take Celia and George on a shopping expedition the day before Georgina’s parents were expected to arrive. Sadly, the excursion would not include illicit meal-taking.
“They cannot truly expect Aunt Harriet will sponsor them, can they?” Celia complained, sorely put out to lose her most excellent maid. “After what they did to an earl? And expect to be accepted?”
“That will not be their unforgivable sin. The earl is in such disgrace Harriet does not expect him to be well received in Society, and anyone who has managed to embarrass him will be accepted immediately. Nay. Their acceptance will depend upon their wardrobe and letters of introduction, which they don’t have because you stole them.”
Celia sniffed. “Rafael would not allow Coimbra society to treat me as anything less than a queen no matter what I did, and now I am expected to do nothing more than converse with the ferns, so such dealings and expectations and machinations are too complicated for my feeble mind.”
Mary chuckled.
“George,” Celia said briskly. “You are about to fall in love with a handsome Greek merchant and run off with him to the Continent.”
The girl sighed in utter disappointment at Celia’s decision. “Cap’n, they’ll never see me. I’ll make sure of it!”
“Don’t question me, girl,” Celia growled. “I am not your parents and not intimidated by spoilt adolescent bitches. Do that again, and you’ll be scrubbing the bilge walls with your tongue.” George choked. Celia added, “Anyroad, I am far more accomplished at spoilt bitchery than you.” Celia chuckled when the girl’s bottom lip trembled. “Leftenant Papadakos will meet us at the modiste attired in a manner befitting a wealthy cit on holiday. He will bump into us on the street and apologize, et cetera, et cetera. You need only play along and then leave with him when he makes his grand declaration of eternal devotion. You are not to leave my office until you are taken to Rotterdam, and then you are not to step foot off the Thunderstorm unless Leftenant Smith gives you leave to do so. Understood?”
“Aye, Cap’n,” she whispered.
“We will, however, go to the booksellers first. Inform me of any books you deem necessary for Kit’s tutoring and I will purchase them.” She opened her mouth to protest— “Bilge.” —and shut it again. “I’ll not have you spending your money on a man you’re fucking whilst you’re in my care.”
George looked to Mary, but found no succor there. “She’s right, love,” Mary said gently. “And pray do not ask me to intervene for you again. Even I follow her orders.”
“You’ll need that money when you catch and he sets you ashore with a bastard and then conveniently forgets you. Trust me.”
Celia watched as comprehension changed her expression from mulish to resigned, and she heaved a great sigh. “Understood, Cap’n.”
Thus it was that after Celia’s second mate had swept George away into the arms of glorious bliss along with a message to Solomon written in Arabic, Celia was led into a modiste’s by her mother. They browsed the fabric selections and the fashion plates, but as Mary was thought to be living on the “charity” of a marginally well-off merchant, they could not, in fact, purchase much.
Celia grew more resentful every time she touched a particularly fine piece of silk. Because of her ruse, she could not purchase any of the fine things she loved so much, and at this moment, she was itching to spend money.
It was all she could do to forget about the jeweler five doors down from the modiste.
And the milliner three doors down from that.
And the swordsmith two streets over from that.
“Celia,” Mary murmured, turning her away from the proprietress’s attention, “curb your appetites and mind your character. You are acting like a drunkard who hasn’t had a drop for a week.”
Alarmed, Celia immediately pulled herself back into her persona. No, it would not do to give anyone an indication that she was not the imbecile she claimed to be.
Mary called her thanks to the proprietress and led Celia out of the shop and to the coach. Celia determined to spend a day or two (or three or four) shopping in Rotterdam before the voyage homeward.
Home.
That was something she had had only twice in her life, and briefly at that. Though she had grown up on the deck of the Iron Maiden and, all told, lived and worked aboard it for seven years, it was home only by virtue of the fact that she had nowhere else to go. It was not her home.
Rafael’s university-granted living quarters had been more of a home to her than not, her things strewn about for five years, but was still not a home. Of course, they were not much more of a home to Rafael, but he refused to part with coin for a home of his own when his rents were paid.
The Carnivale had been more prison than anything, and while the refurbished Thunderstorm was hers, and her cabin was outfitted to her taste, it was also not a home by dint of the fact that it could sink at any time.
She had not felt the lack until she’d made a home with Talaat in his fine marble palace in Casa Blanca. It was the opening of his life and soul to her, the knowledge that she would never leave again, that she could do something of permanence in the space he wished to share with her that had made it her home. It had also made her recall the home in Philadelphia she’d shared with Bancroft and her mother and her brother for the first eight years of her life: the nursery littered with beloved toys, the wardrobes stuffed with beautiful clothes, her soft bed piled high with dolls—
Papa Papa Papa Papa Papa!
Why, hello, my poppet! With a welcome-home like that, I should rather leave and come back for another.
No, Papa! Come see my sums.
Your sums? Oh, my clever little minx. Well, in a moment. Let me kiss your mother first.
She had never spoken of that time with anyone but Talaat, yet since his death, she had often recalled it and the home she’d shared with her husband.
“I want a home,” she said abruptly once she and Mary were on their way back to Rathbone House. “That’s what I want.”
“If you wed Rafael, you shall have one,” Mary murmured.
“I’ve lived with Rafael, Mother. I shan’t do it again.”
“Oh? Then you will remain at sea? That is home to you, is it not?”
“Nay. I sail because it is what I know how to do, I am accomplished at it, there is nothing else I feel compelled to do, and I am beholden to no society or stricture.”
“Yet you desire a home, which brings society and strictures with it.” Ah, she was correct on that point. Then she continued, causing Celia to wonder how long she had been pondering this. “You do not intend to settle in Morocco, do you?”
“I should think not!”
“What do you plan for your houses there?”
Oh, Celia had a plan for the houses Talaat had left her in Casa Blanca and Marrakech, but not one she wanted to share with her mother just yet. “I should give up my holdings there, do you think?”
“Were it for me to decide, yes.”
The question itself was a feint, yet she still needed the advice. Mary was wise in these matters, while Celia had ever been careless with her funds, frittering her money away on any pretty thing that caught her eye. In fact, Celia had never had much before she’d wed Talaat. Dunham had kept a tight rein on her spending while at university, but Rafael bought her whatever caught her fancy. Then Talaat had showered her in jewels and silks before leaving her his wealth. Thus, she was not conversant with the true value of things, which fact she became distressingly aware of when she began using that fortune to refit the Carnivale and retain her crew.
If it hadn’t been for Solomon and Smitty, she’d have been fleeced of every last falus Talaat had left her.
And as for her prizes … Dunham and Skirrow had taught Celia well how to spot and capture valuable ships and their cargos, but her skill in selling the goods at a profit was nonexistent. She had never seen Dunham or Skirrow take a prize they did not then sink after the valuables had been offloaded.
If it hadn’t been for Mary, it would never have occurred to Celia to keep the ships, refit them, and sell them or lease them out.
But what if they sink? I will lose money, aye?
Only a bit, because you would have invested only in the cost of the repairs and paying an extra crew to sail them in. Upon signing the lease agreement, you will collect an initial fee of approximately the same amount as the repairs and payroll. Thus, you will end up with nothing but lost time, as you would have sunk those ships anyway. It is an acceptable risk for the potential return. If you had purchased them, I would advise you differently.
How differently?
Insure them for thrice their sale value and potential lease fees. Celia! You are a mathematician and you were married to a moneylender. How can you not know these things?
I don’t know, Mama. ’Tis as if numbers that represent currency are an entirely different mathematical world from the one I know. Talaat tried to teach me, but it seems I cannot comprehend it no matter how I try. People are involved! People make everything more complicated. Fair makes my head spin.
But she was still speaking. “ … go ashore alone, you would do better in Paris or Philadelphia.” She paused. “But think on this: What I believe you truly want is what your fa—Nathan and I gave you and Lucien. Before.”
Get her out of my sight before I kill her!
Yes, before. Always before.
“Love and warmth and laughter. A home is not a structure, and I can speak with authority on that. You’ll not find a home alone. You may be able to achieve a semblance of that should you bear children. But a home is not complete without a man who loves you, and a string of lovers in and out of your bed will not give you what I believe you truly seek. Lord knows, Harriet’s been trying that for the last twenty years.”
They sat silent for a while, Celia staring blankly out the window as the carriage wound its slow way through the traffic.
“How close are you to finding those documents?” Mary asked.
Glad to be released from the previous topic, Celia’s breath escaped her in a whoosh. “Barely begun,” she said, reminded of yet another of her problems. “In diverse books, I’ve found three little notes Sarah wrote him as writing exercises. There is no pattern to their distribution that I can discern, which means I must search every book. Now, with him in residence … ”
“I shall send a note to Maarten, explain the situation and beg forgiveness. Then we can leave.”
“Nay. Firstly, my solicitors have only just met with Aunt Harriet’s solicitors, who’ve agreed to send their bills there and, further, confer on the subject. My solicitors know exactly who I am and can give the appropriate advice without giving me away, but I need to be accessible to them. If we are lucky, Rathbone will be assigned a ship soon and then I can get back to Maarten’s task. If, by September perhaps, we still have not made any headway with Bancroft and I feel it prudent to leave, we will. Secondly, if we must flee, I can simply fill the hold out of the warehouses in Rotterdam and sail straight back to Virginia without attempting to take prizes.”
“That will decrease your profit.”
“Mother! I don’t need more money! I need to know what my enemies know!”
Her mother’s mouth tightened and she cast an angry glare at Celia. “That is not your reason for tarrying. You are no kind of spy. What are you planning, Little Miss?”
Celia looked out the window and said nothing for two blocks.
Why did you not pursue me for the figurehead?
I wanted you to come to me.
She took a deep breath and reluctantly admitted, “Judas bade me stay so he could find me.”
The anger in the coach seemed to dissipate, but Mary’s voice was laden with sorrow. “Oh, Celia. Do you not ken? Nothing good can come of playing devil’s advocate with your heart.”
But Celia had ever tempted Fate and it seemed that, in spite of her better judgment, she would do so yet again. “I ken, Mama,” she said low. “I ken.”
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Pirates!
I need to know what my enemies know!
Now that is sound thinking.
Moj – I guess I should understand this but I don’t.
Celia’s father is Dunham, but her last name is Bancroft (and he is her step-father). So her “brother” is only a half-brother. What family did she live with in Philadelphia as a child? Or is this all revealed in subsequent chapters?
I apologize. This is harder to understand when serialized.
Mary and Nathan Bancroft live in Philadelphia and are married and have Lucien and Celia. They are a small-ish but very tight and happy family. When Celia is 8 and Lucien is 12, they see Mary and DUNHAM kissing, think Dunham’s attacking her, run to get their father (Bancroft) to save their mother. Nathan arrives, takes one look at Dunham and knows whose kid she really is. Nathan looks at her and says, “Get her out of my sight before I kill her.” Dunham picks her up and takes off with her immediately. Dunham has known all along that Celia’s his.
The Bancrofts were already fixing to move to London because Nathan’s father had died and so now Nathan is the baron. They were in the middle of packing up the house. Nathan takes his stuff and Lucien and goes to London, leaving Mary behind. He puts out the rumor that Mary and Celia just disappeared, and he’s grieving. Lucien doesn’t remember this happening at all, so nothing gets out.
Umpetyumpteen years later, Celia and Mary show up on Harriet Munro’s (Lady Rathbone, Mary’s sister) doorstep to visit before Mary “dies” (because Mary owes a debt to Maarten and this is the way he’s chosen to call the favor), and perpetuate the rumor they were taken by pirates and it’s taken them this long to get back to family. Mary ONLY tells her that Celia is Dunham’s and what Nathan said about killing Celia. But then, the second Nathan hears that a) Celia’s in town and b) she’s insane from her pirate captivity and c) Mary’s about to die, he sues for custody. Harriet’s pissed off and says, “Bring it,” and has held him off for two years. Now, Nathan’s got better lawyers and Harriet’s husband (Lord Rathbone) comes home unexpectedly. Rathbone finds out his wife is keeping a man from his daughter, so he cuts off her money* so she can’t pay her lawyers.
*The REASON Rathbone’s invested in this, even though he really has no idea what’s going on, is because his and Harriet’s daughter actually WAS taken by pirates and they both saw it go down. He’s been looking for her for years, which is why he’s always at sea and never home. He’s NOT going to allow someone to keep a man’s daughter from him, no matter the circumstances or what arguments Harriet presents for why this is a bad idea, without telling him about Dunham or what Nathan said that tore it all apart.
The rest of the twists and turns to this knotty situation are spoilers, so that’s all the explanation you get for now.
Does Mary owe Maarten the favor? I thought it was Celia. Also, I was under the impression that this was not the first return to London for them.
So Bancroft was living in Philadelphia while an officer of the RN? That part strikes a little odd, but I have even more trouble putting Dunham in Philadelphia, over the course of 9 years. For a man that would be a Barbary pirate?
I assume that Washington’s prohibition on taking Bancroft’s life (as part of Celia’s letter of marque) is also explained? If not, that’s another odd bit.
Mary owes Maarten the favor, but she can’t fulfill it. Celia can, so she is, on Mary’s behalf. This is the third trip. Celia intends to keep coming back until she finds the documents or gives up.
Celia was born in 1750, so the Colonies were still firmly British/Loyalists. She was 6 when the Seven Years’ War broke out. Nathan was very good friends with Washington and Franklin et al, who were frequent visitors to the Bancrofts’ home. Washington was a colonel in the Virginia Regiment at the time. That’s pretty much where he learned how to be a general AGAINST the British.
Washington’s prohibition will be explained, but it’s simple enough. He and Nathan are friends who grew apart, and he just doesn’t want his friend to die, much less by his subordinate’s hand, no matter her motive. If Celia gave it a half a second of thought, she’d have figured that out herself.
I love this, but can’t comment now. (Wake-up in 4hrs and a Sri Lankan -in-Carmel chit-chat going. Must sleep, though I did long-nap earlier after the Cubs won.)
Will catch up and comment when/where I can.
…I bitch about summer weather a lot but… I should give a shout out to Gaia for finally blessing us with a couple days of gloriously comfortable weather.
Fifties in August is a treasure that should be celebrated.
Hell yea. I’m just glad I don’t have to change my shirt every time I step outside for more than 15 minutes.
The weather app is currently saying that it will be pretty temperate for the next week with only a high of 82. That A/C unit is getting a long vacation; I was afraid it was going to crap out during the heat wave.
The algorithm has blessed me once more:
Pulp Fiction, but in Sumerian:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lkMt7wRTp3I
Mornin’, sleepies. An hour in, lunch is gonna be 10am Steak n Shake. Envy me.
Your Chicago Cubs won a short thriller, quickest game of the year in all MLB so far.
Weekend phone cutie WAS here yesterday, and should provide window dressing for the day, that eager lady. (Rough gig, she has. No sarc.) I eagerly await.
How goes it for y’all?
I DO envy you. Our two closest Steak-n-Shakes closed (one of the buildings is now an urgent care joint,) so we have to venture a couple ‘burbs over and fight interstate exchange traffic to get to the now-closest one. Even so, it appears they no longer offer the Royale. Who knew a burger with a fried egg on top could be so good?
We watched the Savannah Bananas play in Camden Yards while the Orioles were away getting beaten by your Cubbies. Big fun!
And, of course, good morning EfE, TAFKALack, Suthen, NA, ‘loosey, Sean, Derpy, U, Roat, and ChipP. (Teh Hype is late!)
“Not Adahn on July 31, 2025 at 7:45 am
I still get there excessively early, but I also use airport/flying time to read paper books, so it’s not really a loss.
[…]
ALB has no rhythm. It’s the whitest airport ever.”
Chances NA sees this? probably 0, But anyway:
Careful, just two weeks ago I got to ALB two hours before departure and barely made it on the plane. Lots of people in security missed their flights, and they weren’t letting people cut the line for some reason.
I haven’t flown in years and have no plan to but from what I hear around here we have done what we usually do: invent something fantastic. and then proceed to completely fuck it up.
We have gone from horseback to flying. We continue to fuck with flying until it is faster and less harrowing to go back to horseback.
Yup. ALB is like that.
Good morning Evan and all,
I’m up early and ready to enjoy this beautiful weather.
https://youtu.be/8BuPm_5Kpqk
𝓨𝓮𝓹. 𝓓𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 50𝓼 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮.
Weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!
🏴☠️⚓️👊
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PCNdb5zlQLE
🎶🎶
Crimson Permanent Assurance?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ecFBcpY9NHI
I am officially on vacay.
-tion.
🤪
I just got up. I have to go get $2k in repairs done to my car.
I’m grumpy.
That sucks. I think most of us have been in a similar situation. If you own a car, you’re rich by global standards.
The lightning damage to my wife’s car is finally repaired. Summer was rough with only one car.
There’s at least 3 members with fleets here. They must be rich like Elon.
Lightning damage? I missed this story.
But they’re doing things like annoying Zeus.
Not the brightest of ideas.
Lightning damage? I missed this story.
Lightning struck about 10 feet from where the car was parked. An EM pulse overloaded the car’s electrical system. It fried a headlamp assembly and two circuit boards. It appears to take a long time to diagnose and test replacement electronics.
The shock wave knocked items off a neighbor’s walls. Electronics in at least five houses were damaged, mostly ONTs and routers. Somehow the tree seems unaffected. Just some bark damage and a trench blown along one root.
full unedited footage of George Floyd’s arrest:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkEGGLu_fNU
funny, when I got arrested for having a loaded rifle strapped to my back, they let me finish my breakfast before they cuffed me
Did you have a long rap sheet and history of violence?
Get yer Italian groove on this weekend.
https://berkscountyeats.com/directory/saint-marco-italian-food-festival/
Peach 🍑 festival!
https://peddlersvillage.com/event/peach-festival/
However bad you think the cops are, the crooks are worse:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XraxT3wItZY