Rutabella Isles

One

It was the usual kind of ball. Wealthy socialites floated around the room, engaging in pointless small talk with others of the same status. Some were dancing to the tune of the waltz music issuing from the small orchestra in the corner, I standing near the main door with no other purpose but to observe the ball, was promptly ignored.

Servants aren't the subjects of interest of any galas, I chided myself. You are lucky to even be here.

I had landed the job of one of Lord Lunzby's many servants by accident. There was a ball occurring in the luxurious manor, and my friend, Isaac, and I had a habit of watching the weekly extravaganzas in one of the full-length windows placed at intervals around the house. Security was rather lax in the back of the manor; we used this route to sneak onto the grounds.

That was what we were doing that night.

Isaac let out a loud gasp upon seeing the beautiful Lady Izabela, clad in a flowing blue dress and whose hair was done up in a tight chignon, enter the room. He stumbled backwards and tripped over the stone path.

"Who goes there?" one of the guards called as Isaac scampered off into the night, going out the back. I, like a fool, remained, too worried of my slow feet to even think about following Isaac.

The guards mistook me for a girl applying to be a servant, and I found myself in an apron and uniform within the hour. Even without my required attire, I certainly looked the part—small in stature and gaunt from malnourishment, with matted red hair and dull brown eyes. I soon acquired the appearance of a hardy young woman of seventeen, though, on account of the generous food. Servants, I quickly learned, led more fulfilling lives than cobbler's daughters.

"Clara!" I heard behind me.

I'd been working for Lord Lunzby for only a fortnight, but I didn't have to turn around to know that that was Millie, my witty but steadfast fellow servant who roomed with me in the servants' quarters. Her presence was always preceded by a strong whiff of rhododendrons and witch hazel; her duties laid solely in the tending of the gardens.

"Millie," I acknowledged as she twirled around until she came to face me. "Do we need to prepare even more treacle tart? This gala is already butter upon bacon."
"No, but I just saw some pirates outside the gates of the manor. I was just finishing trimming the witch hazel, so I couldn't hear what they were saying. But you know pirates; when they see a gate, they see an invitation, ribbon and everything, to go inside it. Don't be surprised if they burst in here and cause a ruckus."

I sighed. From the moment that I stepped into our joined room, I was aware of Millie's eccentricities and superstitions. She had just finished draping a wall-length mirror to prevent her mother, who had died that morning, from becoming trapped in the glass. Millie thought everything slightly out of the ordinary was a cause for concern.

"Don't sell me a dog, Millie. The guards here are the finest around."

"If they are the finest around, then how could you and your friend get inside unnoticed?"

I was about to fruitlessly backtrack when a cold burst of wind shot like a bandit into the ballroom. The music came to an abrupt halt. Ladies cowered behind their dancing partners. Everything was eerily still.

Quiet before the storm?

The heavy, brass-knobbed doors slammed shut, and in strutted six pirates. I drew in a deep breath and glanced at Millie, expecting to receive a impudent "I told you so", but she didn't look like she had the strength in her to deliver one.

Excusing himself from a flirtatious exchange with a young woman, Lord Lunzby crossed the room to meet the group, and the tallest of the corsairs joined him. They stood nose-to-nose beside the floor lamp closest to the door; in the light, I could identify a long gash on the pirate's face that ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth.

Lord Lunzby stuck out his voluminous abdomen. "Pirates. Just the sort I like to wreak havoc on my balls. Not enough loot on the ships around here?"

"Ahoy to you," the pirate said, giving the lord a onceover. "Blimey! You're even fatter than folks said."

Men from the crowd surged forward, prepared to defend Lord Lunzby with their bare hands, but the host of the ball waved them back. "No need. I'm sure these men don't mean to fight with us."

I ran to a table boasting mutton and potatoes, crouching so that the small congregation couldn't see me. Millie held back, eyes wide, knees buckling and unbuckling.

"Captain Eros," one of the other five pirates said timidly, "we should get on with it. These people just want to continue their dancin'."

Captain Eros whirled around to face the man who spoke. "Landlubber, if I want you to speak, I'll ask you for your two cents! Now shut your mouth and let me do the talking! Savvy?"

"Savvy." The pirate hung his head and retreated to the back of the group.

"But my fellow freebooter is right. You have something of our interest, and we have something of your interest. Call it a trade if you must."

Lord Lunzby stepped forward. He would have looked intimidating were he not so corpulent. "What is this trade you propose?"

Captain Eros gestured to one of his inferiors, who lugged forward a bulging burlap sack. He opened it, and I stood slowly to note the contents of the sack: at least nine thousand pounds, along with various jewelry, all of which was gold. The crowd gasped; I gasped. Nine thousand pounds of stolen money was still money. What could the captain possibly want in return?

"This here booty is yours if you give me one of your servant lasses as a bride."

The ballroom erupted with collective murmuring from the guests. I shot a glance at Millie, who was oblivious to my attempts to catch her eye. She had paled and appeared to be crying.

It was clear. One of us would be chosen to wed Captain Eros. We, after all, were two of the very few female servants. The others were with child; I did not know Captain Eros well, but I believed he would have liked to father his wife's children.

"That is absolutely preposterous!" Lord Lunzby cried. I couldn't tell whether he was unwilling to give up one of his servants for treasure, or if he was sympathetic to the pirates and thought it an unbalanced exchange. I hoped it was the former.

"It is absolutely fair. An item for several items. What more could you want, old man?" Captain Eros waved a casual hand at the expectant servants. "Preferably not these wenches. Having my work cut out for me isn't very fun, is it? I'm looking for a young, robust lass, not some picaroon."

His eyes traveled the room hungrily, taking in everyone's faces, the beauty of the women or the lack thereof.

Then they settled on me. I froze.

"I think this one will do."

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So, what do you think?  Does Lord Lunzby care about Clara's wellbeing, or is he just a nice guy who wants to make a fair trade?

Be sure to comment and vote! I appreciate the love.