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The Raider Page 3
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“Jessica, I don’t think you’re being fair. What in the world did Alex do to you that’s made you dislike him so much? And you can’t count the schoolboy pranks he pulled. If they counted, Nathaniel would have been hanged four years ago.”
“It’s his attitude. He always thought he was so much better than anyone else. His brothers and father would work with everyone else, but Alexander thought of himself as too good. His family was the richest one in town, but he was the only one who was aware of it.”
“Are you talking about the charity? The time you threw the lobsters he’d brought us in his face? I never understood that since the whole town was always giving us things.”
“Well, they don’t now!” Jessica spat in anger. “Yes, I mean the charity, living from hand to mouth every day, never having anything, always wanting. And Pa coming home every nine months, just in time to get Mother—” She paused to calm down. “Alexander was the worst. The way he smirked every time he brought a bag of cornmeal. The superior way he looked at all of us each time he saw us. He used to wipe his breeches every time a Taggert baby got near him.”
Eleanor smiled. “Jess, it was necessary to wipe your breeches—or your skirt or your hair—every time a Taggert baby got near you. I don’t think you’re being fair. Alexander was no better or worse than the other men in his family. It’s just that you two are only two years apart in age and therefore you felt more kinship with him.”
“I’d rather be kin to a shark than to him.”
Eleanor rolled her eyes. “He did help Patrick get the post as cabin boy on the Fair Maiden.”
“He would have done anything to get rid of one more Taggert. Are you ready to go?”
“I have been for some time. I’ll make a deal with you. If Alexander turns out to be the pompous spendthrift you seem to think he is, I’ll bake you three apple pies next week.”
“I’ll win this without trying. With his arrogance, he’ll probably be expecting us to kiss his hand. I hear he was in Italy. Probably met the Pope and learned some things from him. Think he’ll wear scented lace underwear?”
Eleanor ignored her sister. “If I win, you have to wear a dress all week and be nice to Mr. Clymer.”
“That old fish-breath? Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to win. This town’s going to see that, when Alexander is alone and not surrounded by his brothers and father, he’s a lazy, vain, condescending, pompous—” She stopped because Eleanor was pushing her out the door.
“And, Nathaniel, if you don’t watch after those kids, you’ll hear from me,” Eleanor called over her shoulder.
By the time they got to the dock, Eleanor was having to drag Jessica. Jess kept enumerating all the things that needed doing: the fishing nets that needed repairing, the sails that had to be mended.
“Well, Jessica,” said Abigail Wentworth as the Taggert sisters stepped onto the dock, “I see that you couldn’t wait to see Alexander again.”
Jessica was torn between wanting to smack the woman and turning to leave the dock. Abigail was the second prettiest girl in town, and she hated being second to Jessica’s first. Therefore, she loved to remind Jessica that she was a ripe and ready sixteen while Jess was drying on the vine at the grand old age of twenty-two.
Jessica gave Abby her sweetest smile and prepared to tell her what she thought of her when Eleanor grabbed her arm and pulled her away.
“I don’t want you two to get into a fight today. I want this to be a good day for the Montgomerys without Sayer having to get you out of the stocks. Good morning, Mistress Goody,” she said sweetly. “There it is, that’s the ship Alex is on.”
Jessica’s jaw dropped at the sight of the ship. “But that beam is too narrow. I’m sure that’s against statutes. Has Pitman seen that yet? He’ll probably confiscate the ship and then where will your precious Alexander be?”
“He’s not mine. If he were anybody’s, Abigail wouldn’t be here waiting for him.”
“How true,” Jess sighed. “Wouldn’t she just love to get her hands on the Montgomerys’ eight thousand feet of dock space? What are those people looking at?”
Eleanor turned to see a group of townspeople standing stock still and gaping. The crowd began to part, their mouths open, but no sound came forth.
As Jessica and Eleanor waited, a man came toward them. He was wearing a jacket of canary yellow, with a wide border of embroidered flowers and leaves about the edge and hem. The jacket covered an enormous belly, and sunlight flashed off the many colors of the silk embroidery. The breeches covering his fat legs were emerald green, and he wore a full wig that hung down in curls past his shoulders. He walked across the dock, stumbling now and then from what was obviously too much drink.
The townspeople seemed to think he was another official from England, but Jessica recognized him right away. No amount of weight or wig could completely cover that imperious Montgomery expression. In spite of his extra hundred pounds, she could still see those cheekbones that Alexander had inherited from his grandfather.
Jessica walked forward, swishing her skirts and letting everyone see her. She’d always known that Alexander Montgomery was rotten to the core and here was proof. The minute he was out from under his father’s rule, this is what happened to him.
“Good morning, Alexander,” she said loudly and with laughter in her voice. “Welcome home. You haven’t changed a bit.”
He stood there and looked at her, blinking uncomprehendingly. His eyes were red from drink, and once he swayed so badly that a dark, burly man had to catch him.
Jessica stepped back, looked Alex up and down, then put her hands on her hips and started to laugh. Moments later the townspeople began to join her.
They couldn’t stop even when Marianna Montgomery came running onto the dock. She halted when she saw Alex.
“Hello, Mary, my sweet,” Alex said with an off-center smile and again the man in the dirty shirt had to steady him.
The crowd stopped laughing while Marianna looked at her brother in disbelief.
As Alex kept smiling, Marianna’s mouth kept falling farther open. At last, she put her apron over her face and began crying. She ran from the docks, her heels showing beneath her skirts, her sobs carrying on the wind.
That sobered the crowd. They gave Alex and his peacock coat a few contemptuous looks and began to go back to their work. The wind echoed with the words “Poor Sayer” and “But his brothers are such men!”
Within a few minutes, there were only four of them on the dock: Jessica, enjoying it all enormously because she’d always told everyone that Alex was no good, a frowning Eleanor, a bewildered Alexander, and the big man in a dirty shirt.
Jessica just stood there with a triumphant grin on her face while Alex’s eyes began to clear and he turned to look at her. “This is all your fault,” Alex whispered.
Jess’s smile grew broader. “Oh, no, Alexander, this is your fault for at last showing your true self. You had them all fooled for years, but not me. You must tell me who your tailor is.” She turned to her sister. “Wouldn’t you love to have a petticoat that color?”
Eleanor squinted her eyes at her younger sister. “You’ve said enough, Jessica.”
Jess widened her eyes innocently. “I have no idea what you mean. I was merely admiring his clothing—and his wig. No one in Warbrooke has worn a wig for years.” She smiled her sweetest smile at Alexander. “But here I am keeping you and you must be hungry.” She looked pointedly at his enormous belly. “Something like that must take constant work.”
Alexander made a lunge for her throat, but Nick caught him.
“My goodness,” Jessica mocked. “The piglet has claws.”
“I’ll get you for this, Jessica Taggert,” Alexander said beneath his breath.
“With what? Cream cakes?”
Eleanor stepped in before Alex could say another word. “All right, Alexander, let’s get you home. You there,” she said to Nicholas, “get his baggage and bring it. You can take care of your