Davy glanced one more time at Miranda before he turned to face the window.
After some time passed, Davy spoke again and turned to face Miranda. “Do you remember when you were twelve and your father asked what you wanted for your birthday?” Miranda nodded her head and smiled briefly.
“I told him that I wanted to sail with him for a year.”
“Yes, and with much deliberation he agreed to the request,” said Davy.
“He did, but afterward he brought us back here, and after staying only long enough to allow the men time to restock the ship, he left. I did not hear from him, or see him, for the next six months,” spoke Miranda.
“But you know why he kept his distance, don’t you, Miry?” Miranda shook her head quickly, still angry for the way her father had acted. “As you know, sailors do not like women aboard their ships. Even a child is unacceptable in their eyes, for as far as they are concerned, all women are bad luck. But during the time that you were aboard the Flying Wasp, you changed the men’s opinion of you, and you could do no wrong. You cared for each man, respecting them as an equal instead of the filthy scum of the earth that everyone thought them to be. You were slowly turning into your mother. Even at such a young age your father could see it, and it scared him. He could not let that happen. You were wise to the ways of sailing, for your father and I taught you everything that there was to know, and yet you far exceeded our expectations.
“Your mother was a pirate—a good woman. You have to understand that your mother didn’t want that life for you, which is why you are here with me and not by your father’s side. You are destined for something better, Miry. If you would stop being stubborn for one minute you would see that this course chosen for you is the better one.”
“That may be so, Davy, but what frustrates me the most is that he could be with us right now if he wanted to. For his own selfish reasons he chooses to be alone instead of with me. He abandoned my mother when she needed him, and now he does the same to me. You gave up being a pirate for me, Davy, and as far as I am concerned you are more of a father to me than he is.”
“Miry!” Davy shouted, chastising her for her behavior.
“You did, Davy! You sacrificed everything for me when you truly didn’t have to,” spouted Miranda. “Why couldn’t he?” Before Davy could respond, Miranda turned her head away from him and focused her attention out the carriage window.
The rest of the ride was in silence until they reached the large estate of Lord Hammil’s. As soon as the carriage stopped, a servant opened the door and held his hand out for Miranda to take. She took it freely and stepped out of the carriage assessing her surroundings. The estate was vast with trees and a stable. The house was large from the outside and looked to have at least fifteen rooms. Miranda looked beside her where Davy now stood and shook her head, imagining what it would be like to be responsible for the house and all the events that would take place there as Lord Hammil’s wife. It all seemed overwhelming to her. Davy grabbed her elbow and walked to the door where a servant was waiting for them.
As they entered the house, the inside shined as brightly as the outside. The walls held portraits and pictures in every room. Wood tables and chairs littered the rooms with unlit candlesticks on top of them. A chandelier could be seen from the entranceway, and was radiant against the pale walls. The servant showed them into a parlor where there was a cushioned sofa and chairs for them to sit. A fire illuminated the room with warmth as well as light. Davy stood by the chair while Miranda surveyed the room more closely. Carpets lay upon the dark wood floor and furniture of different shapes and sizes filled the room. She walked past a table and dragged her fingertips across the top. She then glanced at her fingertips. Upon seeing no dirt, she knew the servants were doing their jobs.
“I wish to remind you to behave yourself. Men adore women who are obedient and humble. Act both with such an important man. Do not choose to embarrass me or your father.”
“Yes, Davy,” replied Miranda obediently as she rolled her eyes, careful not to let him see her. She knew what qualities men wanted in a wife, she also knew that she had very little of those qualities. Miranda was about to sit when the door to the room burst open and in entered Lord Hammil. Lord Hammil was a tall and slender man. He had short brown hair cut to his neck and a curling brown mustache. His blue eyes sparkled as they gazed upon her.
“Miranda, I am so glad to see you.” Lord Hammil walked over to where Miranda stood and grabbed her hand, kissing it in welcome. “Supper is served and is waiting for us. Shall we?” Lord Hammil offered his arm for Miranda to take, which she did with reluctance. As they moved from the room, Davy followed quietly behind.
The meal was exceptional as usual. They started with soup and then ate lamb with potatoes and bread. For dessert there was a plate of fresh fruit. As supper ended, Lord Hammil started a conversation about his work, hoping to get Miranda to talk to him. She had been quiet throughout the meal and wasn’t sure what to talk about other than the food on the table. To Lord Hammil’s dismay, Davy filled in the gap. When their plates were being taken away they were all given a glass filled with a burgundy wine. Miranda didn’t like the taste of it much, but still drank the contents to calm her nerves. She kept her eyes averted away from her host and stared frequently around the room with false curiosity. Now, as she placed her glass onto the table she could feel Lord Hammil’s eyes upon her. It was then she knew that she couldn’t escape conversation any longer.
“So, Lord Hammil, what is it, exactly, that you do again?” She knew he had explained it to her at least a dozen times, but was embarrassed to tell him that she wasn’t paying any attention when he had.
“Miranda, please call me Leonard. We don’t have to be formal when we are with each other.” Miranda quickly glanced at Davy who was standing behind Lord Hammil and nodded his head. “If your father gives me permission to marry you, I would like you to feel comfortable calling me by my name, as I will be calling you by yours.”
“Of course, Leonard,” replied Miranda dryly.
“I am in charge of handing out the letters of marque for the queen to privateers. I also have many other important duties that I am responsible for.”
“So, you are familiar with captains and their ships?” asked Miranda cautiously.
“Yes, I am familiar with many captains and their ships, though I can’t tell you which ones, my dear,” replied Leonard as he gave Miranda a charming smile.
“Why not?” Miranda’s voice held her disappointment but as her eyes narrowed onto Lord Hammil, she noticed the slight shake of Davy’s head to her right as he had taken a chair slightly behind him.
“Because, no one is to know what ships have that privilege. Now,” said Lord Hammil as he changed the topic. “Does my house please you? You will have run of it, of course, when we wed. Will you be able to handle the responsibility?” Miranda noticed the way Leonard smoothly switched topics, but decided not to pursue her interest in his knowledge of ships.
“Your house pleases me very much. Would we be staying here all year round or do you have estates elsewhere?”
“We will be staying here, mostly, but I do have other estates that we will be visiting periodically.” Leonard finished his sentence in a way that made Miranda feel uncomfortable about asking him the question. She then pursed her lips tightly, the corners of her mouth turning slightly into a frown.
“And where, pray, are these other estates?” Lord Hammil ignored the question as he smiled adoringly at Miranda.
“I
