Isabella Montecchi was feeling very pleased with herself. She had been looking over the ledgers that her accountants had made up for her, detailing the profits she had gained from the Othmen envoy’s ship and cargo. The challenge for her now was whether she would make an offer to sell it back to him so that when his Othmen masters demanded to know if it was true that he had been tricked by a woman, he could deny it.
She would dearly like to see him on the receiving end of some Othmen cruelty, but suspected that they would pay him with exceedingly brutal wages. His humiliation might be payment enough for now. She lifted out a single sheet of paper and began writing a note to him, inviting him to come to her house to negotiate the purchase of a ship with cargo that had come into her possession.
She was trying hard to keep a sarcastic tone out of her finely formed letters when her handmaiden knocked lightly on the door. “Yes?” she asked, looking up.
“There is a man come to see you,” the handmaiden reported.
“Who is he?” she asked.
“A sea captain,” she said.
“What does he want?”
“He said he has a business offer for you.”
“Where is he from?”
“He is a native of the Floating City and says any other sea captain will vouch for his name, and is considered a lucky man.” Then she added, as it was needed to be said, “He is aged.”
Isabella knew that a sea captain’s life was such that any who was old enough to be considered aged was a lucky man.
She sighed. “All right. Show him in then.”
She turned back to the letter and added a line, describing how fine the ship was and that she had hardly had the opportunity to use it, when there was a tap at the door again. The handmaiden stood there and indicated to the sea captain that he could enter her rooms.
He came in slowly, and the handmaiden followed and stood just inside the doorway behind him. She watched the way he stopped and admired her mistress, clearly impressed with her beauty. She had seen that reaction on many men’s faces who had come expecting to find a widow confused by business matters and instead found a lady of considerable bearing and beauty who had a sharp eye and sharper mind.
“Can I offer you refreshment?” she asked the man and the handmaiden couldn’t help smirking a little as the captain became a little tongue-tied.
He recovered a little and said, “Captain Domenico Selvo at your service.” And he bowed formally.
“Please have a seat,” Isabella said and watched as the man sat down. He had grey streaks in his dark beard and hair, and could be considered a little short and stout, but seemed to have an honest face.
She could see he was ill at ease and said, “Perhaps we should get right to the point?”
“Yes,” he said, fidgeting with a gold chain he had tied to his jacket. “I have a ship.”
She waited for him to go on, but he did not. “Are you in need of employment?” she asked. “Are you seeking a contract?”
“Ah, yes. A contract,” he said.
“Tell me about your ship.”
“She’s a fine vessel. The Windchaser. Do you know her?”
“I’m sorry, I do not, though undoubtedly my late husband would have known her.”
“Yes,” the captain said. “He would have known her. And me.”
Mention of her husband seemed to make him feel awkward and he fiddled with the chain again for a moment.
“Where have you sailed?” Isabella asked him, to put him a little more at ease.
“Ah – where haven’t I sailed?” he said. “I’ve travelled all the shores of the inland seas and have crossed to the desert lands and all the Graecian islands.
“And the lands of the Othmen?” she asked him.
“Once,” he said. “Many, many years ago. And I’ve no strong desire to return there, I don’t mind saying.”
She nodded her head. So he was brave but clearly not foolhardy, and did not rely overly on his luck. He could be a useful man to employ. And it would please her other captains to think they might be able to share some of his luck.
“Do you have a proposal for me, or are you waiting for an offer from me?” she asked.
Now he looked even more awkward. “Perhaps…” he said, then trailed off.
“Yes?” she asked.
“I think I should make the proposal,” he said.
“Then go ahead,” she stated, spreading her hands wide.
He cleared his throat and said once more, “I have a ship.”
She nodded her head once and then suddenly understood what he meant.
“What have you heard?” she asked him.
“Your offer,” he said, looking down at his feet.
She closed her eyes. “Tell me what you have heard,” she said softly.
“That – um – that a man might win your hand if he puts up a ship of cargo as bounty and can – um – spend a night with you and – um…”
She held up her hand and then opened her eyes. “You don’t need to go on,” she said. “And who has said this of me?”
“The Othmen envoy. He has said you are keen to be wed again, and miss the company of a husband. He is telling all the sea captains around the city.”
Isabella wanted to put her head into her hands, but kept her head straight, looking coldly at the aged captain.
“My hand and my fortune for a night of pleasure, yes?”
He fiddled with the gold chain again. “Yes.” He looked up with a hopeful smile.
“And your ship will be forfeit if not?”
“Yes,” he said, with a tone in his voice that suggested he knew that would never happen. She reached out one hand and scrunched the letter she had been writing up into a small ball as hard as the sudden chill stone in her heart. She smiled to the captain and said to her handmaiden, “Captain Selvo will be staying the night. Please bring us some wine.”