"I imagine there will be a great many things you do not care for, darlin' but I only have your best interests in mind. Sit down before you keel over," Chase orders and Bronnah drops into the chair gently tugging her hand away from him. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and a headache is beating at her.
“As soon as we leave, I will need to interview you.” Bronnah nods and is unable to speak as he slowly removes his hat and drops it on the table. Next comes his coat, and her mouth goes dry. Sweet heaven he cuts a figure. His shirt is tucked into denims with a gun belt and two pistols. When he squats down in front of her and reaches to touch her, she recoils.
His silver eyes look into hers, and he sighs, "I need to check your wound." Bronnah closes her eyes and lifts her arm. The side of her dress is torn and saturated with blood. Chase pulls his bowie knife and slices the dress down the side to reveal the corset underneath. Light blue silk, with stays in the back. A slow spreading stain saturates the corset.
“Damn, that’s a lot of blood.” He presses on the area, “You need to get this off. I think it’s causing the wound to bleed more.”
"I'm sure it's only a flesh wound, and I'll not be stripping in front of the likes of you," Bronnah hisses and lowers her arm. When she opens her eyes, he's still staring at her.
"I can't quite make you out. One second, you're a prim and proper English lady, and the next second, you're a hot-headed she-devil. So, which is the real you?" Chase wonders as he stares into the most exquisite eyes, he has ever seen.
Bronnah grins, “I’m Irish, Mr. Rivers. We’re sometimes a bit of trouble, but always worth it.”
Chase throws back his head and laughs. “We shall see, Miss O’Dalaigh.”
A thunderous sound of the anchor chain being pulled in has them jumping apart. "Heave, ho!" The Captain shouts out, and the ship begins to move. They're underway.
Aimee ducks inside and offers to show them to the sleeping cabins below deck. "I'm afraid we only have the one open cabin. These schooners aren't meant to be passenger ships, so most of the square footage is on the main deck, where the supplies we haul are kept."
"That's no problem, Miss O’Dalaigh is in my custody. I will be sleeping wherever she is."
Bronnah doesn't respond she simply, follows. They can clear this up when they're alone. Aimee has been through enough today. Once more they climb the ladder into the belly of the ship, and she walks down a hall and to a wooden door.
"I think judging by your size, Monsieur that this cabin will work best for you." It has a double bed tucked into the wall with a single window over top. A chair is in the corner and a small dresser with a mirror above. One small closet is built into the corner.
“Down the hall is the bathing room.” Aimee glanced at Bronnah, “There’s a change of clothes for you in the closet, I’m afraid it’s all I have.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Bronnah said softly, heartbroken for her friend.
The ships bobs as the main sails are set and the schooner begins to pick up speed. "Meet us on the top deck when you're through." Bronnah hugs her carpet bag close to her chest and sits heavily, fighting back a wave of nausea and dizziness.
"I think you might be right, Marshall. Perhaps it's time I tend to this wound. I was sure the corset protected me from the blade sinking inside, but it appears to have sliced right through."
"Chen blades are superior. You get out of that contraption, I'll fetch water." Chase tosses his gear down and grabs the water pitcher before leaving. Bronnah waits for him to go and digs through her bag. First, she gathers the ledger she stole from Rose Killian. Glancing around the room for a hiding place she decides on the mattress and quickly stuffs it underneath. It will have to do for now. Next, she pulls out the second item. A small black bag.
Inside is a small medical kit that she keeps on hand. She never leaves home without it. A hard-learned habit over the years. Inside, is everything she needs to suture a cut. She's quick to remove her black wig and toss it on the bed. Next, she unwraps the braids of her hair and runs her fingers through it rubbing at her scalp.
“Oh, God that feels better." That will help ease her headache. Next the top of her dress, lucky for her it's a two-piece walking dress. The light blue silk corset is laced up the back with strong ties, while the front is reinforced thin vertical strips of whalebone sewn inside. The Chen blade sliced through effortlessly missing the two bones. Glancing in the mirror on her tiptoes she blanches at the amount of blood.
As a nurse, she’s trained for it, but something about her own blood is terrifying. “They were trying to kill me.” Her hands tremble as she struggles with the ribbons. Chase enters the room and stops in his tracks.
Bronnah is a sight to behold. Her blonde hair is covering her breast in luscious waves, and she's on her tiptoes prodding at the wound. She gasps and leaps for the towel to cover herself. "Don't you know how to knock, Marshall?" she demands.
"Lord, woman. No wonder half of New York is hunting for you. You're glorious," he snaps and kicks the door shut behind him. Bronnah blushes and holds the towel closer to her chest.
“Thank you. Just leave the bowl and go. I’m a trained nurse. I can tend to my own
