Read The Swashbuckling Yarn of Milady Vixen for Free Online Page B

of long, strange feathers trailed behind it. His long, sharp face was white, not from a lack of sunshine, but a thick powdered dusting only broken by a pair of red-rouged cheeks. On either side of his abnormally long nose peered a pair of crystal blue eyes that twinkled with a strange amusement. His frilly white shirt, deep blue captain’s coat and shining brass buttons looked as prim and well kept as ever a dandy’s would. His long legs were encased in golden knee-length breeches with a pair of silver buttons marching down the sides. White hose and polished black buckled shoes completed his ensemble. A slender and overly ornate blade rode on his left, while a silver chased flintlock pistol was stuffed into a red sash that squeezed his middle.
    “Who is this strutting peacock?” Ginger Tom inquired.
    “By the mother who bore me, I know not,” she replied.
    “By Aphrodite’s rosy cheeks, I do believe we have ensnared none other than Milady Vixen.” He chuckled.
    “And who would you be?” she queried.
    “Me? I am the Marquis de Poste.” Saying so, he gifted her with a mocking little bow.
    “A Gaston noble?”
    “Quite so.”
    “Why would you bring such a sudden halt to our enjoyment?”
    “We had hoped to capture another member of your brotherhood, but instead find ourselves with a more interesting catch.”
    “You have a proposition for me, I take it?”
    “Hah!” The Marquis de Poste laughed merrily. “You see to the quick of things, milady.”
    “Divulge your mind to us, and I will see if we can strike up an accord.” Vixen smirked.
    “Vixen, are you mad?” Tom hissed at her.
    “Crazy like a fox.”
    “Would the lady and her accomplice join me in my stateroom for a brandy?” the gentry-mannered man asked.
    “Lead on, Marquis,” she said with her own bow.
    If Vixen thought the Gastonian nobleman was overly decorated, his attire paled in comparison to the splendor of his cabin. Ermine-draped chairs, ornate crystal decanters and bottles of expensive vintages were contained within. Taking a seat in front of the pair of privateers, the white-faced man stuffed snuff-laden fingers under each nostril and gave a deep sniff. Vixen put her boots up on the table, just to see if she could annoy the pampered gentlemen. He ignored her.
    “It has come to the attention of His Majesty, Louis IV, the monarch of Gaston that our biggest competitor on these seven seas would be most vexed by a further loss of cargo from their vessels. Since His Majesty wishes to gain supremacy in the marketplaces across the world, he has endowed me with the power to provide certain documents to sea-wolves like yourself,” Marquis de Poste stated in a lofty tone.
    “Ye be offering the likes of us Letters of Marque?” Ginger Tom gasped out.
    “Of course. A more likely ship than the Sea Fox could not be found, for I hear yon Milady Vixen is gripped by a particular and violent humor when it comes to those flying the banner of Effingham.”
    “Aye, I hate the very sound of the name,” Vixen growled. “So you provide us with these documents, and in exchange you get what?”
    “Half your plunderings, and all warships of His Majesty’s nation will turn a blind eye to your—efforts.”
    “A quarter.”
    “Pardon me?”
    “A quarter of the booty; I will not surrender half. I have, after all, needs that must be maintained.”
    “This is not up for negotiation.”
    “It is if you wish my help. If safe passage near Gastonian guns and half of the loot is all you offer, I must decline your generous offer.”
    “You would additionally have the gratitude of my monarch.”
    “You can keep his gratitude, for I know all too well of the kindness of nobility.”
    The Marquis’ shoulder shook lightly, and a smirk twisted up his waxed mustache.
    “You are as cunning as the moniker of your vessel.” He smiled, lifting a glass of sparkling wine.
    “Then we have an agreement?” Vixen said with a nod.
    “We do.”
    “Where do I put into