Dewey Lambdin: The French Admiral

"And what about you?"

"Momma trahed ta stick me ta warshin', but twern't easy," she admitted. "Finally, a corp'rl give me a sack dress he'd stole if ah'd go off in the woods with him. Weren't much of a dress, at that," she said with a fleeting smile.

"And the corporal?" Alan asked, feeling her turn to a better mood than just a few minutes before.

"He weren't much, neither." This time she laughed aloud. "But we could get us money enough fer food an' beddin', an' Momma didn't ask where hit come from after that. I didn't whore fer jus' anybody, though."

"For the officers?" Alan asked, pouring them both more wine.

"Hell, yes," she snorted, now out of tears and laid back at ease. "This cap'n was all worked up 'bout the morals o' his men, but that didn't stop him from havin' me hisself. Then Tom Woods come 'round with an order ta move on, from that cap'n, if ah wasn't takin' up with jus' one of 'em. Anyways, Tom wuz from England and he looked sa grand up on his horse, an' sa clean all the tahm. Not lahk the soldiers comin' round. Ah had me on a new dress, had mah hair warshed an' a li'l scent an' ah could tell raght off he didn't want me run off lahk the cap'n said fer him ta do. He got down an' talked ta me, an' next thang ah knowed, he wuz offerin' ta take me on as his mistress, iffen ah'd a mind fer it. Hit seemed lahk a good deal, an' a way ta get back at the cap'n, sa ah said shore! Got some new dresses, a pony ta ride an' a cart an' pony fer Momma an' her stuff, too. Oh, mah Tom had a slew o' money! He wuz real proud o' me, lahked me ta look good an' show me off ta the other officers, even Colonel Tarleton. Colonel even come sniffin' 'round an' offered me a guinea to lay with him."

"And did you?" Alan asked, stroking her hips and thighs.

"What da you think," she said, smirking. "With the Colonel, hit's lay down're get knocked down. Doubt there's a girl in the Caralinas he hain't had, even he had ta rape 'em ta take what he wanted. Tom weren't too happy on me after that, got all upset, but he knew ah was whorin' when he met me. Maybe that's why he wuz sa eager ta leave me here in Chawlst'n when the army marched north. Momma went on with 'em ta Wilmin'ton, but Tom left me twenty pounds an' tole me he couldn't take no camp followers along as they wuz gonna march light an' fast. Raght after that, the money wuz runnin' out, so ah took up with Lady Jane an' come away with her hyuh."

Alan suspected there was more to Lieutenant Woods's rejection of her than she was telling, but it didn't really matter. She was out of her bad mood and still in bed with him, without a stitch on, and it was barely three in the afternoon. Alan stroked her into a better mood soon enough, and this time, perhaps from some gratitude she felt for his listening, or for his seeming concern, she was more properly passionate, and gave him the best rides he had known in months.

I feel like a fool, anyway, Alan thought as they left the house in the gloom of early evening. It was five, and they would barely be able to get back to the landing and take a boat out to their ship to report on time.

Alan had left her a crown, despite all his good intentions not to be gulled by the girl, and he carried a hastily written letter from Bess to her mother in the event they put into Wilmington or caught up with the army.

"And how was Delia?" Alan asked David as they strolled loose hipped along the dirt road for the lower part of town.

"Damned interesting," David said. "Not as virginal as she seemed at first, thank God. Almost made me feel as if I were ravishing her for the first time for a while there."

"Lots of tears and entreaties?"

"Well, there's that," David confessed. "I suppose that is something they all do."

"Only if it pays," Alan said with a lofty air of superiority in amorous dealings. "With an older man, she might have been a fishwife, if that was what was desired. Now you take that Bess. Started off acting like I was a great treat until she found all the acting wasn't necessary. They all have an air that appeals more to one than another. They're probably comparing tips and sharing notes about us to see what will make them more money from the next pair of fellows like us. Might even take turns playing the ravaged innocent," Alan said cynically.

"My God, what a hard bastard you are," David said.

"What did you think we bought back there, undying love?"

"No matter what you say, I think she truly liked me, beyond the coin we gave her and her mistress," David said stubbornly.

"She might have, David, but it don't signify once we're gone," Alan said. "Tonight she'll be just as nice to the next man with money in his purse. What difference? We got what we wanted. Now, someone you could set up as your mistress, that might be a different story."

"She was not some drab you rattle in an alley," David insisted. "She's more a courtesan, taking hours to please instead of a quarter hour and a quick wash. She has time to decide whom she truly likes or dislikes and is probably genuinely glad to see a favored customer again. I felt sorry for her, actually."

"Well, I can't think it natural that two such pretty girls have to take to that life except from sheer necessity," Alan said, realizing David would believe what he wished. He did not want to dispel all David's illusions or ruin his birthday remembrances with the brutal truth. And Bess had rung true, and had treated him with what felt at the end to be almost genuine fondness, and he did not think her so jaded or skilled.

"My sentiments exactly," David said firmly.

"Still, without necessity, there'd be a lot fewer available and obliging young girls to make sport with, so I think we should propose a toast to brute needs when we're back aboard," Alan said, tongue in cheek.

"Especially our brute needs," David laughed, tipping Alan's cocked hat forward onto his nose. "Remember what Wilkes said, A few good fucks and then we die."

"Speaking of brute needs," Alan said, looking up and down the street, and to where it joined a busier thoroughfare in the market area, "keep a sharp lookout while I pump my bilge on these… azaleas, or whatever."

He stepped into the weeds until he was out of sight and unbuttoned his breeches to make water.

"No worry, Alan," David told him softly. "No one coming but a pack of men with a cart."

"Fine. Be out directly."

"Jesus Christ!" David yelped. "Alan!"

"What?" Alan yelled back, aware of the sounds of running feet in the dirt of the road. He did up enough buttons to preserve modesty and stepped out into the lane, hand on his dirk.

There were three men on the road, big bruisers with staffs in their hands, all intent on beating David senseless, hemming him in as he stepped back with his dirk drawn. Two more faced the weeds, waiting for Alan.

"Get the Tory shits now," one man rasped.

"The hell you will," Alan said, drawing his own weapon. The man from the pair nearer him swung his staff. Alan leaped at him, taking the wood on his forearm and palm with a loud smack that almost paralyzed his left arm, but he was inside the man's guard, arm extended.

He buried his dirk hilt deep in the man's stomach, bringing a howl of agony, for it was a death wound, death for sure not too many days in future. He bulled over him as the man collapsed, using the body as a shield against the second man's staff. The man jabbed with the pole to keep him away. Alan fended off with his numb left arm once more, slashed at the hands that held the staff and nearly sawed off a couple of fingers. As the attacker flinched with pain, Alan shouldered up to him, shoving him away, and as he spun to turn, stabbed him in the kidneys, which brought another terrified shriek of pain.

David had been knocked down, though he had hurt one of his foes, a man clutching a slashed forearm. Alan gave a great shout and ran to David's assistance even as the remaining two prepared to brain him.