The Misadventures Of Ethel Horton
an excerpt

Harvey accidentally knocked Ethel’s head against the rail on the way down. James, who was taller, stronger, and probably a lot more careful, said, “Hey, let me take her if you aren’t going to be watchful of where you’re going.”
Harvey gladly let him. “She’s our ticket to treasure, sure thing.”
James looked at him, surprised. “This girl? She will make us rich?” He looked doubtingly at the blonde, soft – looking girl he held in his arms. “I knew we were all a little crazy, but really, this is ridiculous.” He shook his head and continued on.
He laid her down in the brig on the bench, covering her with the extra blanket to keep from her getting chilled. Harvey made sure all was well, and then walked back up. There was little light shining in the small cell, but James found a barrel to sit on, and studied the girl. He shook his head. How was she supposed to get them rich? She was very pretty to look at, but undoubtedly she was one of the regular pretty faces with nothing behind it.
He sighed, and stretched. Even if she was just a pretty face, there were intricacies in it that he never would have noticed on any other day. But here, in the brig, looking at her calm, quiet face, he realized small things he never would have. She had a stubborn twist to her brow, a determined look even now in her unconscious state. She looked sassy, fiery, and absolutely impossible. He liked that.

Ethel stretched out, her limbs very sore, and very cold. She looked around her, disoriented. She was in a dark room, and could barely make out much. There seemed to be a figure, there. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here, or what she’d been doing last. Achingly, she sat up. “Who are you?” she asked the man.
James woke with a start. His ward was awake. “Hello,” he said, awkwardly.
“Who are you?” Ethel repeated.
“My name is James Tipperary. What’s yours?”
She ignored his question. “Where am I? What happened?”
“You, madam, are on a ship. Apparently, you’re going to help us.”
Ethel peered at him, not comprehending. “I’m on a ship? You are a crazy, raving, lun—,” she cut off her sentence as she felt the room lurch. “Okay, not so crazy. What am I doing on a ship?!”
“I’ll tell you if you tell me your name,” he said irritatingly, as though he were a child.
“Ethel Horton. Now what am I doing here?” She was getting angry.
“You, Miss Horton, are on a pirate ship. My mate, Harvey, kidnapped you, and so now… well, apparently you’re necessary to our journey.”
Ethel remembered in a rush the man in the pinstriped suit, the dark room, and, oddly, the violin case. “That- that man! He came at me… everything was black… for what? Why do you need me?” She was yelling. “Why me? What do I have that nobody else does?”
James put his hands up defensively. “I have no idea, Ethel, but you can ask Harvey what he was thinking next time you see him. In the meantime, placate yourself, and I can assure you, someone will tell you while you’re here sooner or later.”
Ethel shrieked, mad as a hatter. “You’ve got to be kidding me! I’ve been kidnapped, and you’re saying to me, ‘placate yourself’! In what world is that correct and well?”
James started to walk out. Fascinating went to crazy in about twenty seconds when it came to this woman. “I don’t know, but you’re not going to get anywhere shouting like you are.”
She glared at him. “I hope you get stabbed with a cutlass. Pirate ship, indeed.”