THE BETTER PART OF VALOR. Morgan Mackinnon
Thank you, Mister O’drette. This is such a silly misunderstanding. You see, that was the night of the really horrid storm. I would appreciate it, Captain Haynes, if you would take care to avoid any more of the same!”
There was some laughter around the table, so Cresta charged on. “All you saw, Mister O’drette, were the remains of a very seasick officer who did not manage his roast beef and whiskey at all well, considering the heaving of the ship at that point. My apartment was closest, so I insisted he come inside, where I gave him a dose of phosphorus drops in water to calm his stomach. I am not a nurse, sir, and I fear I gave him too much. In fact, I thought for a moment I had killed him!”
O’drette was listening, and again, a small trill of laughter went around the table. This woman seemed innocent enough, even though she was a widow, and he wouldn’t blame the Lieutenant Colonel if he had taken advantage of the situation and topped the lady. He would listen to the rest of her story. So far, she sounded credible.
“And that’s all. Myles was out for hours on the floor, and I spent the night sitting on my drawing room sofa!”
Missus MacRae folded her hands together and gave Cresta an I know what you’re pulling here stare, asking about the jacket and boots.
“Is it normal for the Lieutenant Colonel to carry his boots and jacket to his cabin after being seasick?” She looked innocuous as she spoke, but her eyes were shrewd.
Cresta understood the look very well and didn’t back off. “Why, my goodness! I don’t think he would have wanted to wear that old jacket and those boots in public. That is where the roast beef dinner and the whiskey landed!”
This time, real laughter, and O’drette nodded toward Cresta.
“Madam, please do forgive my tasteless and inappropriate question. I believe you have set me straight, and I do sincerely apologize to all at the table for my behavior. Lieutenant Colonel? Will you accept my hand, sir?”
Keogh took his hand but leaned forward. “If you ever try to embarrass my companion or myself again, sir, you will feel the edge of my blade. Do you understand me, sir?”
Missus MacRae tittered again and began chatting with Cordelia Jefferson and where ever did she get that adorable reticule?
Cresta passed a shaky hand over her forehead. That was close. She needed to remember the legendary Irish temper of the man sitting next to her. She didn’t know what else she could have done given the situation at the time but was saved from thinking too much about it when the waiters came and presented menus.
Menu
Hors d’oeuvre varies
| Consommé onion | |
| Boiled haddock with lemon sauce | |
| Entrees | |
| Pork cutlets | Peas |
| Ragout of chicken supreme | |
| Sirloin Steak | Crème potatoes |
| Duck with plum sauce | Apple sauce |
| Veal medallions | Baked carrot souffle |
| Sliced ham | Spinach |
| Boiled rice | Marinated new potatoes |
| Plover on toast | Lettuce salad |
| Dessert | |
| Vanilla pudding | Chocolate cake |
| Lemon meringue | French ice cream |
| Fruit | Cheese |
| Biscuits | |
| Coffee | Brandy |
Myles leaned over and whispered to Cresta, “Have you sailed on this line before?”
When she replied she had not, he pointed to the menu. “First class gets French ice cream. Second class gets American ice cream.”
“Does third class get ice cream?” She was trying not to laugh.
“They probably get stale rice pudding.”
In the end, Cresta chose the chicken with peas and crème potatoes, and Myles ordered the duck with carrots and salad. Everyone was served the starters and a dessert unless instructed otherwise by the diner and small dinner rolls with butter were standard. Both Cresta and Myles chose pinot grigio for their wine.
During the meal, Captain Haynes regaled the table with stories of life at sea. It seemed like his only life since his time on land with his wife was minimal. This voyage he’d brought his young daughter with him since she had been begging to accompany him for ages.
He also explained how important lighthouses were to ships and asked Myles if he’d seen the one on Hook Head in Ireland. Myles replied he’d been born approximately thirty-seven miles north of Fethard-on-Sea where the lighthouse was located and that yes, he’d seen it many times.
Captain Haynes went on to describe how the lighthouse in question was one of the oldest in the world and had been built in its present state in 1172. The lighthouse was first manned by the monks in the nearby monastery who labored to haul wood up to the top to fuel a beacon. Ever since 1871, it had been lit by gas light.
“Yes, indeed. That light has been guiding ships for seven hundred and three years. Just think!”
Cresta did not have a chance to really talk to Missus MacRae or to Missus Jefferson; Antoinette MacRae was across the table, and to speak with Cordelia Jefferson, Cresta would have had to lean rudely across Myles and speak across the Second Lieutenant. That left her chatting mostly with Captain Haynes or an occasional comment to the Master of Illusion, who promised to provide a little prestidigitation before the evening was finished.
When the orchestra began playing waltz music and dessert was finished, it signaled the time many couples took to the dancing floor. Cresta had more or less been expecting the Lieutenant Colonel to be her dance partner, but he did not offer, preferring instead to suggest he would like another glass of whiskey. Since he and the Second Lieutenant had apparently not finished their battle stories, the two excused themselves and said they would be in the men’s smoking salon.
This was not the first hint Cresta had Myles was a smoker, and she remembered a photo she’d seen where he’d had a cigar in his hand. She mentally downgraded him to a 6 because she disliked gentlemen who smoked.
That left Cresta to dance with either the Master of Illusion, Mr. O’drette or the Captain. Still, there were three ladies and three gentlemen at the table so that worked out fine. During one dance, she asked Mr. O’drette what his firm in New York did, and he replied it was an exporting and importing firm specializing in French wines and brandies. He was presently en route to Paris, where he would be meeting with the managing board. Missus MacRae? Well, her parents were French, of the Roubilleau family, and she would be doing shopping while in Paris. The two of them had “an arrangement” which did not include their spouses. Since Mister O’drette was rather portly, he begged to be allowed to sit down.
And HE had the nerve to suggest Myles and I were being indelicate? Cresta was so annoyed, she ordered a second brandy.
She did not see Keogh again until nearly midnight when diners and guests in the restaurant were beginning to say their good-nights and seek their own accommodations. Rather than just go to his own apartment, at least the Lieutenant Colonel made an appearance to escort Cresta back to her rooms. It made him look gallant and attentive to the other guests. But something was off, and Cresta knew it immediately. He had an expression on his face she had not seen before, but it smacked of the exasperated face of a father who had forbidden his young son to track mud into his library, only to find the boy has done it anyway.
At the corridor leading to the first-class apartments, Cresa paused and turned. “Myles? Is anything wrong?”
Keogh blew out his breath but didn’t say anything at first.
“Please tell me what is wrong. You have been sulking most of the evening.”
“All right. You have asked, and I will tell you. The affair tonight with Mister O’drette. It was my place to settle the accusation, not yours. By you taking over, as you did, you supplanted me and, in the process, diminished my masculinity.”
“I am sorry. I did not mean to do that. I only wanted to prevent blood in the dining room. You have told me of your temper, sir. I promise the next time someone accuses us of sleeping