Jane Orcutt - All the Tea in China

“The crew is too modest. They fought like tigers to save their ship. But what of the Frenchmen and their vessel?”

“Captain Malfort ordered one of the superior officers and some of the seamen to sail the vessel and prisoners back to Cape Town.”

“It is a relief to know they are no longer aboard. Were there many wounded… and dead?” I suppressed a shudder, thinking of the men I had fought hand to hand.

Julia shrugged. “I did not hear. I only know that Captain Malfort said that the frogs were gone. Some of the crew are mopping the deck, as well as making necessary repairs.”

“Would you like for me to watch Mr. Gilpin while you rest?” I offered again.

She shook her head, adjusting the bandage on his chest a trifle. “I find it good to be of use. Mr. Gilpin does not think highly of me, but he is a countryman. Captain Malfort said that he fought bravely.” She raised her head. “As, I hear, did you.”

“It was mere stupidity,” I said. “I must have been beetle-headed to test my skills. Perhaps it was the element of surprise that gave me an advantage.”

“You are too modest, I’m sure.”

“Miss Whipple!” Captain Malfort’s voice seemed to boom behind me, but when I turned, he was staring at Mr. Gilpin. “How is he?”

“There seems to be no change.”

Captain sighed. “I do not like to lose anyone aboard my ship, particularly my highest officer. He is a man of integrity and courage. I believe he killed several frogs before one of them caught him by surprise. And speaking of surprise…” He turned to me. “It appears that you have caught us all off our guard with your swordsmanship display, Miss Goodrich. May I ask where you learned to fight like that?”

“My uncle hired a fencing master for me.”

“You and your brother both possess unusual, er, fighting skills. A most unusual family, I daresay. I do not approve of such activities for ladies, but in light of your help to all aboard the Dignity, I thank you.” He bowed stiffly.

I nodded in return. Captain Malfort cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. “Let me know if there is any change, Miss Whipple.”

He left, and I rose. “If I cannot persuade you to accept my assistance…”

She glanced up. “I am happy to be of use,” she said. I thought that she looked remarkably weary, but she seemed content. I left to find Phineas, for we had much to discuss.

I searched the ship high and low. Everywhere I went, sailors tipped their caps or otherwise acknowledged my presence. A few turned their backs as though expressing their disapproval of a lady wielding a sword. It made me realize how Julia Whipple must feel occasionally when she met with outright stares or received a cut direct. She and I had both stepped outside the lines drawn by society, and whether we could ever put both feet back inside remained to be seen.

I had nearly despaired of finding Phineas but found him in the last place I would expect. I had wondered if he had perhaps gone overboard when I retired to our cabin for a place of quiet to pray for Mr. Gilpin. When I opened the door, Phineas glanced up, startled, from where he knelt before his trunk. “Isabella!”

“I have been searching for you,” I said. “I checked on Mr. Gilpin, and you and I must have somehow crossed paths.”

He shut the trunk and rose. “Are you well? Are you recovered?”

“I am. The rest did me good.”

“And your arm?”

“Your bandage still holds,” I said, patting the slight bulk beneath my sleeve. “Thank you for tending to me.”

His eyes searched mine as though for an answer. “Is something wrong?” I said.

“No.” He stepped back, as though putting distance between us. “How is Mr. Gilpin?”

“He is alive, but he has lost a lot of blood, I am told. Julia is still tending him.”

“She was much concerned with his health. The other wounded are not in danger, apparently. We are fortunate that only Mr. Gilpin was wounded badly.”

“Still, it is a pity,” I said.

“Yes.”

We fell into silence, each of us scarcely able to look at the other. What was this awkwardness between us? Since the day we had met, we had always had conversation between us-spirited at best, antagonistic at worst-but always an exchange of words. We seemed as strangers at the moment.

“Isabella.” He cleared his throat. “This seems the appropriate moment.”

I frowned. “For what?”

He knelt before the trunk and lifted the lid, then drew out a long length of supple leather, wrapped tight. He laid it on the closed trunk lid and unwrapped it to reveal a sword. Double bladed and etched with delicate scrollwork, the steel gleamed in the sunlight beaming through the porthole. He placed it carefully in my hands. “It is yours.”

I stared at it with awe. The tip was narrower and not as thick as the base of the blade. The hilt, which protected the hand, had short wings. The handle seemed just long enough for one hand plus a few fingers from the other, so it was primarily a one-handed sword. The grip was covered in some sort of skin, and the pommel-the end of the handle-seemed to hold all the pieces of the sword together. “It is beautiful, Phineas. The blade is quite unique.”

“The tip is for stabbing or slashing. The middle section is for cuts and deflections. The closest section is for defensive action. It is made of several plates, with the middle hard and the outer, softer. ”

I turned it over in my hands, then held it out to test its weight. It was heavier than what I was accustomed to, but it felt solid in my hands. “Where did you acquire it?”

“It has been in my mother’s family for several generations.”

I handed it back as though it burned. “I cannot accept this!”

“I have promised you a sword.” He placed it solemnly back in my hands. “And it is yours.”

“But Phineas-”

He touched my hands. “You have earned it.”

My hands trembled. Suddenly the blade did not seem half as beautiful as it did cruel. “I… I killed a man, did I not?”

He nodded solemnly. “You also saved the lives of many aboard ship. To provoke a fight is unthinkable. To use your skill in self-defense, and especially in the defense of others, is noble. Remember that there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend. Most of the ship is grateful.” He covered his right fist with his left hand and bowed. “I am grateful.”

My face warmed. I would have longed for this prideful moment many, many days ago. My entire perception of Phineas Snowe had changed so greatly during that time that now I only found myself embarrassed. “I do not think I should ever attempt such a feat again,” I said. “I learned to fence only as mere folly. I was even foolish enough to dream of knowing a botte secrète-a perfect thrust. And now…” I thought about the dead pirate.

“When necessity demanded your skill, you accepted the challenge without forethought or hesitation. Some might call it destiny, Isabella.”

“And what would you call it?”

His eyes met mine. “Do you remember the Chinese character on your slippers? The one that I said meant love?”

“Then you said it did not. Which time is the truth?”

“The second. I lied the first time because I believed you only interested in romantic notions, and I thought only to flatter you in jest.”

“What did the character really mean, then?”

“Bravery. You have shown it every step of our journey.” He bowed again. “The sword is yours, Isabella.”

I laid it on its leather wrap and re-covered it. It was beautiful, but it was deadly. Yet it was a gift I could not refuse, for it had been given with the utmost sincerity and depth of heart. I turned back to Phineas. “I will accept it on one condition: that you teach me to fight as you did. Without any weapon at all.”