Prologue
January, Tortuga Town
"Another night, come and gone," Bess said to Maggie, settling tiredly on the bed. It gave a protesting creak, though she was not a fat woman. It was just another sign that Madame Kitty spared more coin for her three Persian cats than for her hard-working girls. Bess could hear the madam's voice as if she stood in the room, each syllable perfectly pronounced in her fancy frog accent. "Eef you jeune filles desire more comfortable lodgings, you are free to go looking for zem." But Bess and every other girl in the house knew that there was nowhere on Tortuga as decent as Kitty's place and so they stayed.
She sat quietly for a moment in the low-ceilinged garret, listening to the night sounds of the brothel. Overnighters snored lustily, curled around their favorite girls, no doubt. Cook took no notice of folks trying to sleep and clashed pots and pans as she set the kitchen to rights for the night. A low thud echoed through the house as Madame Kitty barred the door behind the last stragglers. Bess twisted her long, yellow hair into a plait and shrugged out of her faded wrapper, noticing that the lace needed mending again. She poked her bedmate with an elbow. "Budge over Mags, you're hogging the bed. See that?" She pointed accusingly at the hanging lace. "This old rag'll be more thread than fabric ifn' I keeps mendin' it. P'raps I'll get me a new one tomorrow."
Maggie snorted, scooting over to make room on the narrow bed. "What with? I seen you lose most every shilling you had to Evvie at dice yesterday."
Bess pulled the threadbare blanket up around her thin shoulders. After so many years in the tropics, it still surprised her that Tortuga could get so chilly in the winter. "I had me the Admiral tonight, didn't I?" She closed her eyes, having no need to see the envy that crossed her friend's face. She'd seen it before. "Always leaves somethin' extra for me on the dresser, he does," she added smugly.
"Oooh, the Admiral. Though best not call him that to his face, Bess. It's just plain old Captain now, ain't it? What I wouldn't give to warm his toes on a night like this," Maggie gave a delighted shiver. "Or summat else, a bit higher up." The women cackled, huddling together to conserve warmth. "He never picks me, though," Maggie said, a bit wistfully.
"It's yer hair, luv," she tweaked one of Maggie's long braids. "Got his heart broke once, he did, by a brown-headed lass, 'tis said. Leastaways, I never seen him lie with any gal what's got brown hair. Any road, I've had better men in my bed." Maggie snorted rudely and rolled over to face the wall. Bess spooned up behind her, snuggling down into the rushes. "No, 'tis true. Oh, he's easy enough on the eyes and gentle, like, and there's times when that's a nice change, as you well know. But all the gals I've talked to that he's been with, they all say he played 'em the same as what he did with me. A feel up of the titties, some spit to ease the way and then hup-two-three he's done, as quick and tidy as if he was still wearin' the red coat…and here's me goin' on with you asleep." Bess listened to her friend's soft snoring, as her own limbs grew heavy and her eyes drifted closed.
Bess' last thought before falling asleep was that someday, James Norrington would meet the woman with the key to unlock his passion. And lord, wouldn't the explosion be heard 'round the world, then?