Not many things scared me, and that included pirates. In my second year as courtesan, I entertained a gentleman whom Clementine swore was a pirate, warning me to keep him in my sights at all times. Although he labeled himself a privateer, and our agreement lasted only a season, Mister MacGregor treated me like a princess. And nothing ever went missing from the estate.
As I watched the survivors being hauled onto the deck of the Surety, I remembered Mister MacGregor's pleasant manner and told myself not to be fooled by that first experience with a pirate. I knew even nobility had their outliers, and each one needed to be judged independently of their counterparts.
"This one's got a weak pulse and a day old contusion," said Cat, the lead of the aardvark regiment. "He needs attention now!"
The man in question had been pulled from a lifeboat that contained only himself and a medium-sized chest. From the looks of his tailored jacket and leather tricorn hat, I expected him to be the captain of whatever vessel had failed him. At the moment however, he was unconscious, and his hat lay abandoned on the deck while the nurses attended him. I retrieved the hat, fearing someone would step on it as boots and bodies moved about.
The other lifeboat held three survivors, two men and one woman. All conscious but looking like drowned rats. While the unconscious man was loaded onto a stretcher cot, the colonel spoke to his comrades.
"I am Colonel Smith of the HMHS Surety. Who is your superior?"
They all pointed at the man who was now being carried across the deck by two members of the aardvark regiment.
"What's his rank?"
"Captain, but it ain't a military title." The answer had come from a squat man with a jaundiced face and a filthy kerchief wrapped around his head.
"I presumed as much. I also presume this is his property?" The colonel kicked the chest with the tip of his boot.
"Aye, but it contains all our wages. Twas the only thing worth saving when our ship went sideways. Besides the rum, 'o course."
The colonel glanced over the side at their pitiful lifeboats, which were now being carried away on the swell of waves. "Where's this rum now?"
"We drank it. Gotta stay hydrated somehow."
Based on the man's yellow complexion and the poor condition of his mates, none of them had taken in water for several days.
"Very well. These women will take you below deck and see that you're properly tended. Someone from my company will be round to speak with you once you're in a better state."
The bedraggled crew followed Collette and the rest of the nurses, while the colonel barked orders at his lieutenant. "Colbert! I want at least four men stationed in and around the infirmary while our unexpected guests recuperate. As soon as they're fit to be interrogated, come find me."
"Aye, Colonel."
The rain had begun to trickle down the front of my coat, so I walked toward the mainsail to find a bit of shelter and rejoin the two members of my regiment still on deck.
"Cadet Hayes!" The colonel's booming voice had me doing an about face as he strode toward me. "That was a keen spot you made. The lookout should have seen it first."
"He was barely a minute behind me."
"A single minute can make the difference between spotting a vessel in distress and losing it in the storm. Our course would have taken us away from the lifeboats and past the lookout's vantage in that time. Keep that telescope close."
His mouth remained in a firm, horizontal line as he spoke. A bystander might have thought he was delivering a reprimand, but I took the compliment as the rare and prized gift that it was.
"Aye, Colonel."
News of the pirates circulated quicker than gossip at teatime, and when I arrived in my barracks, I was treated to an earful of hearsay and speculation.
"Did you see the colour of the captain's skin? He's Algerian, for sure."
"How can you tell from the colour of his skin? They're all suffering from jaundice."
"An Ottoman? That don't bode well for us."
"The whore ain't Algerian. Did you hear her talkin' in that uppity French? Can't speak a word of bloody English."
"But they didn't have her on board for conversation, did they?"
I had never been one for gossip, having endured vicious rumors over the course of my career, so I quietly listened to my bunkmates as I fondled the brim of the captain's hat. The well-worn leather told me it had seen many days of use, and when I turned it upside down, the soiled sweatband confirmed this. I imagined the adventures the captain may have had sailing the vast ocean. Was he truly a pirate? Had been plundering merchant ships? How did he treat his whores? Was he a murderer?
As I speculated about the man who was, at that moment, fighting for his life in the infirmary, I noticed a shiny object tucked inside the crown of his hat. It was a pendant made of silver and fashioned into the shape of a teardrop. Inside the teardrop sat the reddest ruby I had ever laid eyes on. It had been fastened to the leather with a cravat pin that was rather plain by comparison.
Was it a true ruby? If so, it was worth a great deal. Was that why he had hidden it inside the crown of his hat rather than keeping it in the chest he'd been guarding? Did it hold sentimental value for him? Something worn by a past lover, perhaps?
Right on cue, my thoughts turned to Captain Thompson. Had his ship reached its destination yet? What was the HMS Pelican's destination? Were they planning to make landfall in America? Or would they remain at sea to fight battles there? Admiral Danbury, our ship's supreme leader, told us that our mission was to follow the course of our comrades and rescue any who needed our help.
I dared not ask questions about the Pelican, fearing I would reveal my primary intent for this half-cocked journey into enemy waters. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized how poorly things could go. If the Pelican did not need our help, we would be forced to stay our course and leave them to manage on their own. But, if the Pelican did need our help... Well, that put my mind into a tailspin of unpleasant and gruesome outcomes. Truth be told, the nightmares about the condition of my captain had only grown worse since I'd left London.
The gossip continued throughout dinner as the ship's crew hunched over their trays in the mess cabin. Reports came back from the infirmary that the captain was steadily recovering but still unconscious. And the French whore now had a name and a city of origin; Talia from Marseille. Collette had been with the unfortunate souls since their arrival, and when she shuffled into the mess cabin, she looked like she'd been swabbing the deck. After filling her tray, she sat next to me and leaned in conspiratorially.
"I heard a rumor about ye' but I hope it ain't true."
Collette liked a good prank, and I had come to recognize them. I had also earned a reputation as an uppity whore who didn't put out, so her ominous announcement didn't surprise me. I turned to read the intent in her face, but all I could see was exhaustion. "What's the rumor, this time?"
"Someone said ye' stole Captain Boucetta's hat. He asked for it, first thing, after he woke up. He's been ranting about us being thieves and won't take his medicine til it's returned."
"The unconscious man is named Boucetta?"
"Aye. But he ain't unconscious no more. Did ye' steal his hat, Rose?"
"No. Of course, not. I picked it up from the deck when he was being tended. I did not want it to get smashed. I've been keeping it safe for him."
Her eyes grew wide, showing off the bulging veins. "Oh, my. Ye need to get it to him, right quick. He's givin' our nurses a terrible time. A captain's hat is like his limb. When it goes missin', they feel less like themselves."
My stomach lurched at the thought of taking a man's limb. "I had no idea. I certainly didn't mean to... I'll do that, straight away."
I scooped up my tray and deposited it in the bin, then I kept a quick pace as I navigated the corridors to my barracks. I had left most of my mates in the mess cabin, so the only bodies I found were a couple of nurses who had chosen sleep over food. Although, the tasteless mounds we were served bore no resemblance to anything I had eaten before. Even the orphan asylum made a decent porridge.
I had secured the captain's hat inside my locker, and when I confirmed the hat's precious cargo was still attached by the cravat pin, I tucked it under my arm and raced toward the infirmary. Every second I wasted was a second this man felt less like himself. As I approached my destination, I did not need to ask which cot I would find the distressed captain. His angry voice carried into the corridor, and I cringed at the thought of being the unlucky person to face his ire.
With purposeful strides, I walked toward the voice, stealing my nerves as I watched him banter with Lieutenant Colbert, whose face was partially obscured by a mask made of cotton cloth. From the gleam in the lieutenant's eyes, it seemed Captain Boucetta was close to having his sickbed moved to the brig.
"I don't care how long you have been a captain; you have no jurisdiction on this ship." The lieutenant spoke with cool conviction, although it was clear, based on his flushed complexion, he was reaching his breaking point.
"You are just a pimple-faced boy with a gun. I have hired women with bigger balls than you."
"Watch your tongue! There are ladies present." Lieutenant Colbert glanced at me as I made my way toward them, and his eyes wrinkled with concern. "Mistress Hayes, what are you doing here? The infirmary has been put under temporary quarantine until..."
"Pardon the intrusion," I said quickly. "But I will only be a moment. I have something that belongs to Captain Boucetta."
The captain turned his cantankerous glare on me, and I did my best not to startle at the anger radiating off him. Clearly, the man was distraught and likely in pain. "My hat! Where did you... How did you...?"
His voice trailed off, and his mood softened as I handed over his property. The first thing he did was check that the pendant was still attached. When he had been reassured, his mouth lifted into a relaxed smile, which he shared with me. "I am greatly in debt to you. A captain's hat becomes a part of him. We do not feel whole without it."
"I am very sorry you had to wake up and find it missing. Had I known how much it would pain you, I would have made sure it came with you to the infirmary."
"You had the hat, Mistress Hayes?" The lieutenant's brows rose, and he looked at me as if I had stolen the crown jewels.
"Yes. It fell off Captain Boucetta's head when he was brought on board. There were people rushing around attending him, and I worried the hat would get smashed. I never realized what a state it would put him in. Again, I am very sorry."
While I answered the lieutenant's question, I directed it at the captain as he ran his fingers across every corner of the brim. Then, despite the thick bandage wrapped around his head, he snugged the hat onto his forehead and smiled contentedly up at the ceiling.
"There is no harm done, my lady," said the captain. "Everything is as it should be. And now this boy can take his gun and leave me in peace. But you may stay. It has been a long time since I have seen such a beautiful face."
"Peese off!" A rough, female voice carried across the aisle, and we all glanced at the French whore resting a few cots over.
"Ignore her. She is still upset that her dresses went down with my ship."
"Oh, dear. You lost your ship?"
The captain's smile faded, and he looked back up at the ceiling, his dark eyes half concealed beneath the brim of his hat. "She took us as far as she could go before we had to abandon her. She was my first true love."
"Mistress Hayes, I really must insist you observe the quarantine protocol," the lieutenant said. "These people must be monitored for signs of smallpox."
"For the last time! Me and my crew were at sea sixty-five days," the captain growled. "There may have been typhus, and one unfortunate death due to cholera after we left port. But there was no smallpox."
"Be that as it may, the ship's protocol is to limit exposure to all non-medical personnel."
I glanced around and located the two other men brought on board. Both rested soundly in their cots. Further down, two women stood at the nurse's station chatting. Neither of them wore masks. "I suppose I could return when the quarantine is lifted. I would like to hear about your adventures at sea, Captain Boucetta. I am sure you have many."
"And I would very much like to share them with you, Mistress Hayes."
"Please, call me Rose. I will return when I am able. I am happy to speak with your crew as well. I am not a nurse, but I am a good listener."
I left the infirmary in a much better state than when I had entered. Not only did I feel relief that the captain and his crew were recovering from their ordeal, but Matron Orwell was not there to shoo me away. However, returning for another visit would have to be timed with the matron's meal breaks or when she rested. I hated to go behind her back, but I was desperate to talk to new people with new stories to tell, or I feared I would go mad before we reached the war.