The Swashbuckling Yarn of Milady Vixen (17 page)

“Relax and smile,” Violet told her husband. “They’re just as frightened of ye as ye are of them.”

“Bluebloods make me nervous,” he scoffed.

“And I? Be ye nervous around your wife?”

“Never!”

“Then relax and let’s have a good time.”

“It be amazing.” Tom chuckled. “Two ex-pirates, now heroes of the realm, be treading the same deck as kings, queens, dukes and duchesses? If’n ye told me this two years ago, I’d think ye daft.”

“Technically ye be a lord, since you share my lands and fortunes,” she chided him.

“No lord be I!”

“Only in me heart, my love—only in me heart.”

Violet shamelessly kissed the man she loved. She didn’t care who saw it.

There were, of course, other reasons for the volley of looks shot in Violet’s direction, for she, as was her style, refused to wear a dress. Clad in black boots, white breeches and her scarlet waistcoat, she cut through her detractors as easily as the
Deliverance
scattered enemy fleets. The glint of her polished steel hook jutted out of her left sleeve, as Doctor Cutter was able to salvage a quarter of the wounded limb. Tom had to regularly bring a quick halt to anyone trying to call his wife Milady Steel Hook. Every time they took in new crewmembers, someone would be sporting a bruised face before they sailed two leagues.

“Punch?” Tom asked.

“I’d be preferring to avoid a donnybrook,” she joked, staring at the frowning women.

Reaching the refreshment table, she permitted a maid to pour out a measure of creamy pink liquid into a crystal cup. Taking it with her only hand, she raised it to Tom’s.

“To good fortune, calm seas and the sea breeze in ye face,” she toasted him.

“And the same be to ye.” He chuckled.

“Excuse me,” a sweet female voice interrupted.

Turning around, Violet found herself staring into the eyes of a raven-haired woman twenty years older than her. A beautiful gold gown was draped across her slender figure, and better yet, a smile was upon her face. Beside her was a tall man, even compared to Violet’s height, who stared at her with an amused expression.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drop anchor here and obstruct your course,” the naval officer quipped.

“You are Admiral Cornwell-Herring, are you not?” the handsome man queried.

“Aye, that be me.”

“Permit me to introduce my wife and myself to you. I am Duke Ludwig Osgood-Simple, and this is my wife, Lady Faith Osgood-Simple.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“I knew your father. I was saddened to hear of his death and your rude expulsion from Effingham.”

“Thank ye.”

“I must ask, and please don’t take me as impertinent, but how is your mother?”

“She be well—retired with my stepfather in Pirate’s Cove.”

“Ah.”

“How well did ye know my sire?” she inquired.

“Not well—I met him only once, but I know he’d be proud of you.”

There was something about this man. The nagging question that had plagued her since her conversation with Captain Cockrum many, many years ago reared its ugly head. Suddenly she felt she had discovered some piece to the puzzle.

“I fear I have some doubts about him,” she began. “Another old acquaintance did put me in the mind he wasn’t truly my dear old da.”

“How terrible!” Lady Osgood-Simple gasped.

“He was my father in spirit, but I be told he wasn’t the man who sired me.”

“Well.” The man coughed. “I’m sure it makes little difference, for he raised you well for the time he had allotted to him.”

“You be nervous, my good Duke. Be there something you wish to impart to me?”

“I cannot fathom your reasoning.”

“Darling,” his wife interrupted. “It is time for you to reveal your secret. I have spent many a night listening to you worry and fret over how it pained you.”

“Speak clearly,” Tom grumbled. “I be not caring for all this mysterious talk.”

“Perhaps we can speak about this somewhere more private,” Duke Osgood-Simple suggested.

“Nay, I would know the truth, here and now,” Violet demanded softly. “I have no stomach for intrigue.”

The royal stammered several times, trying to find his voice.

“Pray be at ease, Admiral,” Lady Osgood-Simple said. “My husband’s past is quite as colorful as your own.”

“That’s putting it politely, my dear.” He coughed.

“You see,” she continued, “he was once in the
employ
of your late father. The details, I fear, are not quite common knowledge and would cause dreadful embarrassment to my husband.”

“Your yarn rouses my curiosity, Lady Osgood-Simple,” Violet remarked. “Perhaps in my cabin onboard the
Deliverance
we could speak more plainly. What say ye?”

“I’d prefer it,” the woman’s husband said.

This was how Violet met her real father, Duke Ludwig Osgood-Simple. In the security of her quarters on the dreadnought, she learned how his promise to Duke Cornwell prevented him from speaking of her true parentage. Thus he was unable to assure the magistrate that Violet was indeed of royal blood, secretly adopted as the heir to the former duke’s estates and title. All present shed happy tears, and the ex-buccaneer embraced her real father with an open heart and arm.

Violet and Tom eventually retired to Purdy-on-the-Sea with their son and two daughters. Ada and Imogene were the apples of their parents’ eyes, since both took to the sea, with only Ada coming back to eventually take her mother’s place as duchess after her wedding to Stanley Knoll. Imogene married well and moved into an estate with her husband, Bartholomew Poole, a famous sea captain in his own right. Of course this gave her the name of Imogene Poole, comical in its own right, but since her sister was Ada Knoll it didn’t matter much. However, it was the middle child who proved to be more than she bargained for. You see, Harper Herring became a preacher.