THE NAMING OF THE GRISHAM
By Rodlox
rodlox@hotmail.com

NOTES: The quote `you've confused me with someone I used to be' is from No Alibi starring Lexa Doig {of Andromeda fame}. There's also some quotes in this one as well. Can you spot them?

WARNING: Rated pg13 for one or two scenes of undressing {nothing graphic yet}.

~~~~~

"It has been an honor helping you move, duchess," sea captain Alexis Fedoroff told the young lady as she stood far enough from the debarking ramp that she wouldn't be struck by the lumber and furniture that was being moved.

"I thank you for allowing me to keep company with your wife," the young lady in question replied pleasantly. "I do hate the dreary travels with none to talk with."

A smile from the Russian. "My wife shares the sentiment. If you ever need to sail again, let me know."

"I shall," the lady Grisham replied, following the furnature on the way down.

~~~~~

The day so far for Captain Marcus Grisham was rather like one of those yo-yos he'd played with as a boy. First he learned that the Hidalgos were going on a trip to visit some of Gaspar's relatives further south. Then he'd managed to capture and jail a man accused of raping peasants - though Grisham just wanted to gut the guy then and there.

Pushing the doorto his residence open, things went from fair to worse.

His first clue that something was patently not right were the slender suitcases that'd been dropped by the cot that served him as a bed. Vera? No, couldn't be - if Gaspar kicked her out, I fear
she'd hi-tail it out of Alta California.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Brother!" said a voice that made the Captain gulp, his stomach feeling leaden.

Out from the neighboring room stepped a tall woman, long of leg and arm. A rash of freckled dotted the bridge of her nose, perhaps enhanced by her fairly thin-framed glasses. "Hey, sis," Marcus said neutrally. "Didn't you hear that nobody answered your knock?"

"What knocks? You know Grandfather's saying: `an unlocked door is an open door'."

Marcus Grisham made a mental note to ask around for a good security system; maybe the doc had something. O-kay... "So, what are you doing here?"

"Mother and Father have been very concerned about you all this time, but they felt you needed some time to calm down," Isadore told him. "And, once we learned where you had made your headquarters, I was sent down to check on you for them."

Inwardly, Marcus grumbled. "Lemmee guess, some fat Brit by the name of Walsley?"

"Yes, that would be him," she replied.

"And what did Walsley tell Mom and Pop?" Marcus asked.

"Not much," Isadore said, glad to see her brother again after so long, though slightly put off by his use of common slang. "He told us how you have a successful job, are loved by everyone, and he hinted that you have a fiance...which upset Mother quite a bit." Seeing him gulp nervously, "More because you didn't send her a note telling her all about it."

"Oh, that. Well, you know how people can blow things out of proportion, and I mean -"

Isadore nodded sympathetically. "I understand, brother."

That stopped Marcus dead - figuratively. It may have been bright and shiny outside; but for him, it was starting to go very very dark. "You do?"

"Of course. Even Father has rivals and enemies in and out of business."

"Yeah, that." Well, `rivals' is one way to describe our relationship. "So, what's with all the woodstuffs I saw sitting on the edge of the pueblo?" And are all those roughnecks really needed
to keep it secure?

A shrug from his sister. "It was felt that, if your living quarters were not suitable for a man of your position, then better ones would have to be built for you." She paused. "Besides that, Father also felt this an opportune time to open a branch of the family business in this part of the world."

"In the middle of a desert?" And wouldn't Montoya get a chuckle out of that `a man of your position' stuff?

"Brother, you know the old story about grandfather's founding the company in war-torn and newborn America, don't you?" to which he nodded - he'd been raised on things like that. "Well, Father considers this just as likely a place for future commerce."

How lucky can one guy get? he asked himself with considerable sarcasm. Then something returned to nag at him: "Uhm, sis, how'd you find this place...I mean this building?"

She cocked her head. "Some gentleman by the name of `Montoya' told me; nice sort, for a Spanyrd."

"Did you tell him who you were?" with that sinking feeling inviting its friends in.

"I told him my name, but not my title."

God, thanks for that small favor, Marcus silently prayed. I swear, help me pull through this in one piece, and I'll even go to Catholic service for as many months as you want!

"Tell you what," he told her, "Why don't I get you installed in the local hotel, and then I need to go run a few errands, okay?" She nodded, much to his relief.

~~~~~
A WHILE LATER....
Isadore stepped out of the hotel, lifting her parasol to shield her feminine eyes from the harsh glare of the desert sun. Oh, part of her knew it was the same sun that shone down on the Heath and her hometown, but still...

"Good afternoon, duchess," one of the Russian sailors told her in his language as he walked on by, walking around - not to - that house of ill-reputed women. Isadore smiled and nodded, sending a Hello back to him in the same tongue.

Looking around, she could see that the pueblo square was almost deserted this time of day. The only people she could see were that sailor and -

A man, slender without being spare, well-built from all visible evidence, and eyes that shimmered in multiple shades. "Bueno tarde," she greeted him, figuring this handsome devil to be another Spaniard.

"Some would say so," Dr Robert Helm replied. "Just passing through, miss? I don't recall seeing you." And with how the female half of Santa Helena can't stop having dizzy spells...I'd recognize anybody new.

"I had considered it, yes. But this town does have it's charms."

"Might I ask you a question?"

"By all means, go right ahead. I do, however, reserve the right not to answer."

Ahh, an American. "I could have sworn I heard that sailor refer to you as `duchess,' senorita," Dr Helm commented offhand.

"Oh, a hereditary title, is all," Isadore said dismissively. ...from Mother's side. "And what of yourself?"

Oh, just a knighthood and various metals from a King or two, were Helm's thoughts. "I'm nothing special."

"I very much doubt that," Isadore said with a slight wink.

"Yes, well...if you'll excuse me, I have to go give birth...I mean, I have to help a woman give birth. Good day to you," tipped the corner of his hat, and made off.

Isadore watched him go, trying not to focus on one particular piece of anatomy on him. Then she turned to head towards the place where the lumber had been deposited upon her arrival here. Best we begin the construction now of the store and warehouse, and save home-building for when my Brother deigns to inform me if his fiance will be living with him once married, or if they will have her hacienda.

~~~~~

THAT NIGHT....

Alone at home, Robert Helm rested his head on his arms, sitting down and leaning on the table, one hand holding an icepack to the sizable welt on his skull - courtesy of being kicked by the pregnant woman he'd been helping. Now I know why `men shouldn't be near women in labor' was the one thing me Da and Grandfather could agree on, he nearly vocalized, And speaking of women...

Vera had flirted with him a few times, then gave up. And now this new woman comes to pueblo and promptly starts to try reeling me in....The number's back up to two, Robb, he mused.

He had to admit that senorita Alvarado was attractive, easy on tired eyes, and polite when the mood struck... But Mother would insist that she's too far down the social scale for me, that I can do better. Hell, about the only girl she's ever approved of was the King's butler's daughter...and that was something I did just to see if she'd get upset!

But a duchess...I would think that would make Mother happy. The question is: what about me?

Further thought was prevented by a breeze coming from a window he'd sworn he'd closed earlier. "Good evening, doctor Helm," said a feminine voice.

Robb's head dropped. "I hope you're enjoying this," he muttered.

"Enjoying what?" the Queen asked, confused.

"Oh nothing," Robert said, getting out of his seat. "Just having a little one-on-one with the Almighty," and was rewarded with a little gasp of startlement. Yep, strict Catholic. "Why, did you plan on liberating the trees from my medicines?"

"I don't understand."

"Charcoal, a key ingredient in - oh nevermind."

"Believe it or not, doctor, I actually just stopped by to say hello."

"You'll forgive me then if I don't break out the good china," sarcasm dripping.

"Well if you don't want me around, I'll be leaving," she said, turning around and heading for the window again.

"Don't let the shades hit your arse on the way out," Robb said as he headed for his cot - alone.

NEARLY NOON THE NEXT DAY.....

"Please," Colonel Montoya said, "allow me to see if I understand your request, señorita. You wish to open a - what, a lumber yard in Santa Helena?" It was a refreshing sight, seeing a lady who adhered to more covering - puritanical, some might say - dress. And I do believe the good doctor shared that view during his conversation with her before she excused herself to talk with me.

Isadore Grisham refrained from interupting the man. "No," when his question was finished, using her best Spanish. "It is a furnature-selling store, an outlet of the Grisham family business back east."

One of Montoya's eyebrows almost went up. "That is a remarkable statement, given that our good Capitán has at no point mentioned any family business."

Isadore promised herself to ask her brother about that. "Likely because," she excused him, "none had asked, I should think. So, Colonel, are you refusing my request for construction?"

Montoya leaned back in his chair. "I will consider it, señorita. Most likely, I will approve it because I hate to see a wedge drawn between family members." Which is true....and I speak from experience, he thought bitterly.

She stood up. "I thank you, Colonel." And just before turning to leave, "Tell me, what eateries would you suggest I send my workers to for their meals?" Like Father always said, never bribe directly.

~~~~~

Captain Marcus Grisham stood in front of the front doors to the Alvarado Hacienda, trying to work up the nerve to knock on the - Is that ironwood? the merchant in the back of his mind wondered; the soldier hollered for him to shut up and knock!

knockknock

Nobody came. Not bad enough a guy could get tanned on the long ride over here, he mused, ...though at least there's some shade over the door.

Raising his hand to knock again, the door opened, and he nearly hit Marta by mistake. Continuing his hand up to tip his hat a bit, "Afternoon, senora. Lovely day, isn't it?"

What are you here for? "Yes, it is."

"Be a good thing when it rains again, won't it?"

"I suppose so." You came all the way out here to discuss the weather? Trying not to narrow her eyes in study, she noticed him shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Is there something pressing, capitán?"

Grisham's face seemed relieved that he didn't have to ask first. "Is senorita Alvarado present?" Whereas back home, I'd have said `is the lady of the house availiable?' But then, this ain't home - for which I'm thankful every day!

Marta pursed her lips. Better you are here than stopping her from halting the gold shipments, I suppose. "Follow me," she told him, leading him into the waiting room, then leaving him....alone with Maria Theresa's father.

Once Marta was out of sight, Marcus turned to the painting that had to be about his height, give or take a little. "Senor Alvarado, may I ask - No, no.

"Most esteemed senor, I wish to ask for the honor of - Nah." One of the good things about talking to paintings is that you can start over a few times, and they don't think any less of you.

"Mister Alvarado, from one gentleman to another, might I court your daughter?" Yeah, that sounds nice, said a voice he hadn't let out in a long time: the nobility he'd been.

While Marcus stood admiring the artwork, Marta went and found Tessa; the girl was coming in from the secret entrance in her Queen of Swords outfit. "Tessa," Marta said, surprising her, "You have company."

"'Company'?" she repeated. "But I told Vera to meet me -"

"Not her," Marta said. "Him."

Tessa's eyes widened. "Doctor Helm is here? Marta, have you given him any lemonade?"

Marta gave one of her sighs that - in the US - would have been patented. "Not that him." Tessa seemed to deflate at that.

"Marta, this is no time for games," she said, pulling on one of her `maria theresa' outfits. ""Quien es?" she asked, though Robert or any other Anglophone would've sworn six ways from Sunday that she'd said `kiss.' Who is it? Tessa repeated mentally.

The servant woman sucked in a breath as she helped Tessa with the finer points of the outfit. "He who sitith at the right hand of El Colonel Montoya." Tessa's eyes widened again, though with a different emotion.

"Capitán Grisham is in my house??" When Marta nodded, "You let him in?" she gave another nod. "Why?"

"Why not? Where would you be, young Maria Theresa?" In an aside, "I also knew that you were due back."

More gypsy skills? Tessa wondered, or just motherly concern? She knew better than to ask it aloud though; Marta could be prickly when things like that were mentioned....particularly by Tessa.

When Maria Theresa was at last ready to say hello to her guest, she walked down the hall to the waiting room. "Buen día, capitán. I hope you've not been here long," Tessa said by way of greeting.

He smiled, something that seemed to suit him; not the look of her - the Queen's - opponent, the capitán. "Not at all, , señorita. I was just talking to - admiring your father's portrait."

Part of Tessa wanted to smile at that; though her Queen persona wanted to know who he was really talking to. "Is there something I can do for you? Has Marta offered you anything to drink?"

"Thank you, but no; I'm not that thirsty at the moment." The old Grisham taking control for a while, he gave a regal bow, lifting his hat from off his head in a grand flurish. When he stood back up, "Señorita Maria Theresa Alvarado y Alejandro, after asking your father, I now ask you if I might court you."

Well, that answers that question. "I may need some time to think it over; after all -" and silenced herself as she remembered that he was an enemy of the Queen, not of Maria Theresa. "I'm curious, why the suddenness?"

"Well, not exactly sudden, señorita; I've thought you were very attractive from the first time I saw you." Okay, truth so far... "But I also guess I realized you were outside my range." My circle.

"Capitán, I'm flattered," I think, "But why do I get the feeling that there's more to it than you're telling me?" And if he answers like my uncle, so help him, I'll -

Grisham looked down, ashamed. "You remember Walsley?" trying to work up to it.

"Yes, I do; such a nice man."

Damn annoying to me. "Yeah, well, I'd told him not to write anything about me...so when my sister arrived recently from America, I found out that Walsley - probably smelling a big story - dug into my past....and told my parents where I am."

"I don't see what the problem is," Tessa said, trying not to smile or smirk.

"The problem is that appearantly Walsley did some serious embelleshing when he talked to them

-- down to telling them I have a fiance."

And a minute later, "Capitán Grisham, I am a Catholic lady, so -"

"You want me to convert?" Marcus asked lickety-split. "No problem." I almost did before.....before my life was ruined, back east.

The corner of Tessa's lips quirked up in a smile at the thought of that...then his second sentance came. "Señor, religion is a very serious matter. You cannot simply say -"

"I believe in God, señorita," Marcus said. "I don't sweat the details."

"I see." Tessa mulled it over. "And your faith in His Son Jesus Christ?"

With a completely straight face, "Yes." A pause. "Look, I'm not asking you to partake in a false marriage, señorita, I -" and saw the look on her face. "I'll rephrase that: I'm not asking you to marry me -- just let me court you for a while."<

"Until your sister leaves?" He nodded. "What if she doesn't?"

"She will - unless she's cracked her head in the years since I saw her last, she's almost addicted to the Mall down in Washington, and the social life back in New York and New England." Though nobody's ever answered me on this, why are all the important places in America `new' somethings named after British places?

Nice to know there will be a time limit to this, should I agree. "But are you certain that she only came down to tell you that? It hardly seems a sisterly thing to do." Oh yeah, the Queen retorted, this, coming from an only child??

"Well, from what I've gathered, our - my and hers - father wants me to pick up the family business down here in Santa Helena."

Tessa gave her best `impressed' face. "A family business, capitán?"

Yeah, we're not all mercenaries. "The Grishams are dealers in the field of furniture - buying, trading, and hand-making. Wood, ivory, gold- and silver-gilded...to name a few."

"How very impressive," Maria Theresa said.

~~~~~
LATER

Marcus Grisham had gone home, back to the pueblo.

Maria Theresa `Tessa' Alvarado sat in the near-dark of her little room - secret to all but Marta - and holding her mask in one hand. "What would you do?" she asked it.

She as the Queen may not've been one of the Capitán's biggest fans, but there was enough Tessa to not wish that sort of fate upon him - the mines in Peru were smelly enough from a safe distance; she didn't think she could allow even Grisham to go to mine in Brazil or French Gabon, disinherited...not and remain a good Christian lady who would go to Heaven someday.

Besides, I know what it's like, living under the threat of being disinherited. That's not a fate I willingly hand out. ...So I agreed....for now.

"Any thoughts?" she asked the lace cover. There was no answer.

Besides, I know what it's like, living under the threat of being disinherited. That's not a fate I willingly hand out. ...So I agreed....for now. "Any thoughts?" she asked the lace cover. There was no answer.

~~~~~

Captain Marcus Grisham had finally gotten the roughnecks to stop following him around the pueblo...I don't know if sis' told them to tail me, or if she told them to listen to my orders... ...when his own superior officer showed up, and began walking alongside him.

After a few doorways of silence, "So, Capitán, I understand that you are not much longer for our good pueblo."

No, I'm not dying...that I know of. "I'm not planning on moving away if that's that you're talking about, sir."

"That is always good news, capitán Grisham. However, I -"

"I'm also not going to start selling rocking chairs to the highest bidder." Or rocking horses...well, maybe a few for Vera.

"Of course not," Montoya said dismissively. "After all, you still have your duties as a captain in charge of the soldiers here."

"Believe me, Colonel, if I were giving up my day job, you'd be the first to know," the Captain assured him.

"Perhaps," Montoya said noncommittally. "And perhaps you simply do not know it yet yourself."

"Very funny," Grisham muttered as Montoya walked off.

"'May the bridges we burn light our way'," Grisham muttered the informal family motto, and headed off to find the doc.... Surely if anybody knows whether señorita Alvarado had any allergies or anything else I should know about, that'd be the guy to ask, right?

~~~~~

Marta let the lady Grisham into the hacienda, leading her to the waiting room. Maria Theresa was already there, ready and waiting. "Good afternoon," Tessa said.

"Yes, I suppose around here it is," Isadore replied noncommittally. "Pin kanki?" she asked, expecting the equally-young lady before her to be ignorant of the language.

"Señorita Maria Theresa Alvarado," Tessa answered easily. "Runasimita rimankichu?"

"A fair amount, to be sure," Isadore said, impressed and intrigued. "So you know Quecha, señorita?"

Tessa nodded. "Some of my best friends growing up were Tawantinsuyu," she replied calmly...though Marta looked distinctly uncomfortable all of a sudden, even though she tried to hide it.

"So," the lady Grisham said, walking sedately around the couch, "my brother's quite fond of you?" Tessa nodded. "I take it he's told you his name?"

"Yes, of course."

"I mean his full name." Tessa nodded again, hoping she wasn't asked for it. "Maksym Patrick Grisham?" Isadore said, pronouncing his full name.

Tessa smiled and nodded. "Yes, but he's been rather silent when I ask him where he got the name."

"Not surprisingly," Isadore said. Noticing that Marta was still in the room, "Leave us," and narrowed her eyes. "Now." Marta looked to Tessa, who nodded. Once the servant was out of the way, "It is the names of our two Grandfathers." She walked a few steps away. "By the way, comment t'appelles-tu?"

Tessa held back a smile. She's testing me. "I already told you my name."

Isadore nodded once, conceeding that. French, Spanish, and Quecha. What other marvels do you have? "Do you fence?"

Tessa gave her best shocked face. "I am a Spanish lady."

Isadore pinched her eyes shut briefly. Good God, my brother's going to marry a woman who can't even beat up a paperweight? Opening her eyes, she considered something: Or was that statement of hers a nonanswer?

~~~~~

Robert Helm stood before his mirror, out of practice at fixing his own neckties. "It's just one dinner," he told his reflection, hoping it wouldn't talk back. Of course, if this one works out, there might be a second...one step at a time.

"Though I never thought I'd be going on a date again," he murmured.

"Like Father always said, `courting only costs money; marriage costs land'." And his father'd said it before him, ad infinitum to the days of Beowulf, no doubt.

Doctor Helm hoped that the Queen didn't drop in this evening.

END