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Drake waved him away. “Now go!” He slammed his fork down on the table, raking his fingers through his hair. “First she tried to captain the ship; now she’s invaded the galley. What next?” He shook his head in disbelief. “And to think I was under the misconception that it was Napoleon I had to fear.”
Leaving Smitty below, Drake went topside to make his four o’clock check at the helm; the routine time when the afternoon crew was relieved by the first dogwatch. Fully expecting to see the rested men dutifully installed at their stations, Drake was astounded to find the same tired men he had left an hour earlier still on the starboard side.
“Cochran!” Drake’s angry voice rang out. “Where is your relief?”
The lanky sailor looked distinctly uncomfortable. “On the way, I’m sure, sir,” he said.
Drake was livid. He despised tardiness. He stormed below, heading for the crew’s quarters.
Huddled at a large wooden table were the missing crewmen, their heads bent low.
Drake’s first thought was that they were ill. “Jamison! Mannings! Warner! Parsons!” He strode forward to help.
At the sound of their names the men leapt to their feet. Handfuls of playing cards cascaded to the floor. “Yes, Cap’n!” They were, as one, at attention.
Drake stared from their guilty faces to the discarded cards at their feet. “What is the meaning of this? Eight bells were sounded ten minutes past!”
The men looked at one another blankly until finally Ezra Jamison replied, “We never ’eard them, Cap’n.”
“Apparently not.”
“We were just finishing our last ’and.”
“Your last what?”
Realizing that nothing could make things worse, Jamison explained, “Lady Alexandria taught us t’ play whist, Cap’n. It was a little difficult t’ learn an’ I guess we were concentratin’ so ’ard that—”
“Never mind.” Drake was beyond words. “I will deal with each of you later. Now get topside at once! Your fellow crewmen are exhausted!”
With a flurry of motion and dutiful salutes the four men fairly flew from their quarters.
Drake pressed his fingers against his pounding temples. He had a sudden throbbing headache, and he knew just what its name was.
In less than twenty-four hours she had wreaked havoc on his ship, and now she was nowhere to be found. But he would find her, oh, yes, he would. And when he did, she had better run for cover.
Shouts from above reached Drake’s ears. Now what? He hurried to investigate. A perfectly pleasant day had deteriorated into a nightmare.
The nightmare continued. On the main deck five crewmen were engaged in a twilight scuffle, each pushing the other out of the way and attempting to lunge forward, only to be waylaid by the others in the group. Against the shadowy mainmast, young Thomas Greer stood, looking utterly miserable.
“Thomas! What is the meaning of this?” Drake demanded. The vein in his neck was pulsing wildly as he strode forward to break up the squabbling men.
Thomas looked relieved to see him. “It’s Lady Alexandria, Cap’n.”
“Of course it is. What has she done now?”
“Oh … nothin’, sir. She just wanted t’ know how we manage t’ climb t’ the royals and topgallants, an’—”
“And these fools are fighting over who will demonstrate this great skill to her?” Drake’s tone was incredulous.
“Not exactly, sir. She didn’t want a demonstration; thought she could do it ’erself.”
“And did she?” Drake debated whether to choke her or beat her senseless.
“Well … yes, sir, she did.”
“Then what the deuce are you men fighting over?” Drake raised his voice enough to be heard over the bickering. Aware that their captain had arrived on the scene, the crewmen ceased fighting.
“Over who will get her down, sir.”
