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PART II
MAY, 1780
MÉLISANDE GABLES
LONDON, ENGLAND
ELLIOTT RELAXED IN his library alone with a glass of whisky in his hand after having sent Piefke to bed. The house was blessedly quiet, which gave him the opportunity to think without interruption.
Sandy and Lady Jane were affixed, at least temporarily, and Iddlesleigh had been put on notice that Elliott knew of his alliance with Sandwich. Not that he cared in the least because, as Fury had so astutely pointed out, Elliott had been a goodly portion of the Americans’ makeshift navy, but he would not hesitate to use information to his advantage.
Camille had narrowed her list down to one or two gentlemen with Viscount Merrill leading by a nose. The girl knew her business, he had to admit. Merrill was the heir to a minor Irish noble, was finishing his course at Cambridge, and seemed to have a stiffer constitution than Elliott had initially thought. Her single-minded determination to marry herself off by the end of the Season was no less formidable than anything their sisters and mother could muster. In fact, Milly was still out at some ball with Merrill, chaperoned by his mother, who didn’t seem terribly managing after all.
Niall had gathered some courage to request two dances from a high noble’s youngest daughter. In fact, Elliott had observed his singular, but bashful, attention upon the girl for quite a few moments more than proper because it amused him to no end. For a man who could stand in a courtroom with the utmost of poise to charm judge and jury into believing every word out of his mouth, this was rather concerning.
It was only because the house was so quiet that Elliott heard someone scratching at the servants’ door, likely one of the housemaids being summoned to the stable for a turn in the hay. Thus, he was rather shocked when, some ten minutes later, a sleepy Lynch knocked on the library door and, at Elliott’s gesture, ushered in Fury’s lieutenant.
“Close the door, Lynch.”
“Aye, Cap’n.”
Elliott eyed Papadakos warily and waved a hand toward the liquor cabinet. “Rum’s over there, if you’re of a mind. Then sit and tell me what I have done this time to make Fury furious.”
“Many thanks.” Elliott watched him choose the Greek spirit Fury was rather fond of, but did not drink very often, as it laid her flat with a sip or two. “I answered your summons once Jack granted permission, but your mother,” he drawled with a curled lip, “thought me a dirty Gypsy beggar and ordered her staff to run me off the property. I have wasted precious time trying to catch the attention of someone from your crew who knows me.”
Elliott’s jaw ground. “I apologize for her and I will remedy that. You have a message for me, then?”
“Yes. We depart within the fortnight,” the young man said after he sat back and took an appreciative sip.
“Depart?” Elliott asked sharply. “Why?”
“She has her reasons,” he muttered, eyeing Elliott with some suspicion. “She simply wanted to inform you so you will not feel compelled to continue your search for her.”
“What does she want from me, Papadakos?” Elliott demanded with a great deal of frustration. “A declaration of undying devotion? Done. She has it. An offer to accompany her to Algiers? Done. I will do it. Tonight, if I must. A proposal of marriage? I can’t or we would be wed already.”
Papadakos took a deep breath, released it, then opened his mouth—
“Elliott!” Camille barked as she burst into the library, “I cannot abide another second—”
She stopped.
Stared at Papadakos, who returned her stare, his mouth slightly agape.
Turned on a heel and left the room as abruptly as she had entered it, slamming the door behind her.
“That was interesting,” Elliott drawled.
“I am not accustomed to seeing so many beautiful women so finely dressed,” he said with a shrug. “Captain Jack sent me to say goodbye. That’s all. We will not be returning to England even if we escape Algiers, and if we do, we will not be mooring in Rotterdam again.”
Elliott closed his eyes and sank further into his chair, feeling as if she had ripped his heart from his chest.
“I want to see her,” he rasped. “One last time. Please.”
Papadakos cast a glance at the door whilst he considered. “I’ll deliver the message, but she is angry. In that respect, she is no different from any other spurned or grieving woman.”
Spurned?! Was that how she thought of it? Hell’s bells, no wonder she was livid.
Then Elliott’s brows drew together. “Speaking of grief, were you present when Skirrow murdered her husband?” The man paled and his hand trembled slightly. Elliott cleared his throat. “Apologies, Officer,” he murmured. “I meant no harm.”
“I didn’t know the man but I grieve him,” Papadakos whispered, staring down into his glass. “We all who witnessed it do.”
“And that is why you’re willing to go with her to Algiers?”
His head popped up and his eyes narrowed. “I would follow her to the grave. I came up from a ship’s boy, as many of us did. I owe her my life many times over and for a surety, not the least bit for killing Skirrow. And it is a far better life than I could have imagined for myself.”
Elliott nodded and decided further questioning was useless. It was done. “I have a request, if you please. Instruct Croftwood to send a letter to his father. He is himself grieving for a son he believes is dead.”
The lieutenant blinked, then nodded. “I will. Thank you, Captain.” Papadakos arose and set the glass down. “Oh, one other thing. She bade me inform you that if you attempt to deceive her about a lack of wife to regain access to her bed, she will make sure you can never father children. And she will do it in the most painful way she can devise.”
Elliott laughed piteously. He should have known she would anticipate such a tactic.
“Understood,” he said low, gaining his feet and offering his hand to Papadakos. “Please … tell her I love her.”
Papadakos shook it and looked at him soberly. “I should not speak for her in this, but I believe she reciprocates, Captain.”
Elliott stood and looked at the closed library doors for quite a while, then picked up Papadakos’s glass and pitched it into the fireplace, where it shattered.
Like his heart.
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Pirates!
What fun when Miss Simpleton is absent from the ton.
Miss Simpleton and Lord Macaroni depart the ton at the same time. 🤐
Ha! I had fun at the end, with Columbo about to leave the room, before pulling the end of Cleese’s Roman soldier’s Latin lesson.
Good Dude Move by Papadakos at the end, if not nefarious trickery. A second-hand return of affections is perhaps worse than mom as a chaperone. … or parents at their kid’s job interview. (Yuckers.)
Her crew likes him, and they can see his predicament, so they feel sorry for him. Yeah, Papadakos is going to do what he can to try to soften the blow.
Love can be a rough business.
What a waste of a glass. Moj is keeping me reading this.
Dude, I’m living in fear for whenever we get out to open sea that I wrote something stupid. Now, I did have one reader gently tell me my sailing and battle sequences go too fast, but shit, I’ve got a plot to get through. I did that ON PURPOSE.
Good luck KK!
White prog – born in DC – flips the fuck out over Trump putting his name on the Kennedy Center. It’s a desecration!
Honestly I wouldn’t want my name on the same building as Kennedy. Where do you even begin with that icon of the Democratic Party?
Fun fact: Kennedy means “ugly head” in Irish.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7y2xPucnAo
Watch the Wikipedia editors also lose their shit over Trump’s “unofficial ego trip.” It does take an act of Congress to officially rename it, but they’re apparently putting it on the building itself.
Progs sure do get up in arms over the names of their sacred sites. Worse than the Mohammedans.
One of the noteworthy editors opposing the renaming of the article.
And even more laughs:
The Linkedin account says “self-employed” and in the about section says that they spend their time editing Wikipedia. True scholarly juggernaut here.
You know, I did not anticipate going down this rabbit hole. This person swears they were stalked by a an anti-trans antagonist everywhere they seemingly went online starting on Wikipedia. I mean, the internet is a weird place with a lot of weird people. But I have this strong, strong hunch that this lune was the type trying to drum up victimhood status for themself (they seem like quite the self-promoter with regards to what they do on Wikipedia) and probably get even stronger support for trans bullshit on the platform.
I don’t think anyone else here will care about this.
https://funcrunch.medium.com/victim-and-survivor-c75d5c6de4d4
Oh, how I laughed: American blacks regret moving to Africa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DhvST6BmqVE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-omhedXjwoY
Does TPU (A fleixble 3d printer filament material) work well for gaskets?
Onward, glibby soldiers. Oh. Sleep in, you will and should. I presume shoppers won’t. Today’ll get bloody. At least you sleepers-in won’t be ’round. (Otherwise, be well.)
*Tuco’s Holy Cross*
You okay?
Yep. Keys not being connected to cars anymore fuddled me, but clocked in and ready to go.
“get bloody” as in ‘very busy, much bumping.’
That I was able to drive my around the block as part of my search for my car keys is a good example of the madness of excessive complexity.
Must get magnetic key fob to keep it on the steering column.
Keys that never leave your pocket are harder to lose.
Keys that never leave your pocket are easier to forget, and often don’t do anything.
suh’ fam
whats goody yo
TALL WEEKEND (and vacation) CANS!
Morning sleepyheads!
🥱🛌☕️
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ayuooyWPEUc
🎶🎶
What about the rest of us?
I woke up at 3:40am and have been puttering ever since
I didn’t know you played golf.
Good morning…Glibs too numerous to mention!
😁
Christ what a virtue-signalling asshole
Local “Bookfest” cancelled, but the organizer uses this to make a veiled political statement:
The people aren’t sheep to be fed, lady
She makes a less veiled comment later:
Something tells me this lady’s political beliefs are of a sort that make the state richer and the people poorer.
There’s a bit of a kicker at the end:
Fuck lockdowns, but still being cancelled in 2022?
“The rich can’t keep on getting richer, and the poor can’t keep on getting poorer.”
The only thing making the poor poorer is inflation. I doubt she would support deep the spending cuts required to suppress inflation, though.
A mind is a terrible thing to waste.
Good morning! This year’s gift from the diner is a loaf of some sort of dessert bread. Don’t know which until I get home and try it.
“It’s cricket loaf. Made with high-protein cricket flour”
Maybe it’s a fruitcake! 😃 If so, check the vintage.