"Why, Doctor Gray, you seem to be quite the expert on the subject," Gillette said, in that annoyingly indulgent manner again. "Care to share why you would think such a fantastic thing?"

"Well, that's simple," I said, slightly irritated, "Captain Barbossa told me."

--

~Chapter Two~

--

Music played in the background of the ballroom, clearer to me for a few seconds as my half dozen or so conversation companions all fell dead silent after my statement.

After five or six seconds, as if by some unseen signal, they all began to laugh, obviously all coming to the same conclusion at once –that I was making a joke to entertain them.

I waited for them to compose themselves, patiently. "Might I ask, gentlemen, what it is that you find so entirely amusing?"

The governor spoke up first, still smiling broadly. "My dear doctor, you had us all quite convinced for a moment that you thought you were being serious."

I wasn't smiling. "I assure you, Governor," I replied, "I was being entirely sincere in my claim."

Gillette took on that smug manner again. "Surely, you don't truly expect us to believe that you've spoken with Captain Barbossa, Doctor Gray?"

"I do, and I have, Lieutenant Gillette," I said, meeting his gaze steadily.

"And I supposed he told you about the ship over afternoon tea?" Gillette asked, laughing again as he tried to discredit my claim.

"Of course not," I replied.

He smiled, thinking he'd gotten me to confess to an entertaining fabrication.

"Captain Barbossa doesn't drink tea," I finished. "He drinks coffee...black."

Gillette frowned and looked as if he were going to say something else, but Norrington beat him to it.

"Miss Gray," Norrington began with amused patience, "you seem fairly certain that you've spoken with someone who you thought was a pirate...but, I can assure you it has been many years since a pirate has dared set foot in Port Royal."

I took a sip of champagne before answering and then smiled at the young lieutenant. "I never said I spoke with him in Port Royal, Lieutenant Norrington."

"Oh?" Gillette interjected. "I suppose you spoke with him on the Oxford?"

"The Rogue Wave," I said sweetly to him, "and yes, I did."

"That's absurd," Gillette said, clearly tiring of my nonsense.

Groves, who had been listening intently to all sides, finally spoke back up. "Doctor Gray," he said, very pleasantly, "clearly we don't understand what has you convinced of this...might you explain it to us?"

I decided that I quite liked the young lieutenant at that point, but couldn't say the same thing for Gillette. "Two years ago I was kidnapped and held aboard the Rogue Wave for over a month, Lieutenant...the same time Mr. Beckett's wife was taken hostage."

The governor frowned. "Charles never mentioned anything about pirates," he said, addressing me primarily. "He said his late wife drowned."

"After falling overboard as a hostage on the Rogue Wave," I said, modifying events a tad. I knew that Charles didn't like to mention the full story if he could help it, as it would require him to say that the Essex, a ship in the employ of the EITC at the time, had been raided and plundered, causing the company a substantial loss on the voyage.

"You were kidnapped?" Groves asked, seemingly believing my story by the look on his face.

I nodded, and took another sip of champagne. Clearly at that moment I had the undivided attention of the governor and the three officers I was standing with.

"After a raid on the Essex," I explained, "and I remained on board until the captain decided to let me go."

"You weren't harmed in any way, were you, my dear?" The governor asked, looking quite shocked and upset by my story.

"No," I replied quietly. "At least nothing serious...just a small laceration that healed without incident."

I could tell by the glances the men shared that they wondered about other harm that might have befallen me aboard a ship full of pirates.

"I was quite fortunate that Captain Barbossa saw to it that his crew understood that I was off limits to harassment of any sort," I quickly added, feeling the need to defend Barbossa for some reason. "He actually killed a man that...well, disobeyed him on that point."

"Despicable," Norrington snorted. "The lot of them. Completely depraved. They all deserve to be hung, and sooner rather than later. Barbossa especially."

"Evidently you have a strong opinion on that matter, Lieutenant," I said in reply.

"I should think you would as well, Doctor Gray," he said to me, "after the ordeal they put you through."

I nodded without saying anything, and took another sip of champagne.

"Well, never fear, Doctor," Norrington continued, "I intend to see the number of pirates in these waters decline steadily. Hanging, in my opinion, is too kind a fate for men like Barbossa."

The governor spoke up. "Perhaps you might tell me more about this horse that Charles tells me you have?" he said, clearly changing the subject as he sensed me growing uncomfortable with the discussion.

"I should be happy to show him to you if you like," I said. "Does Miss Swann ride?"

"Quite well, actually," the governor replied, beaming again while speaking about his daughter.

Groves, quite the horseman, I would find out, asked me to dance at that point, and I conversed with him easily for the duration of our dance about horses, riding and my Lusitano, Rogue. In fact, I spent a fair amount of time in his company that night, in part because I found him agreeable and pleasant, and in part because I was able to keep from having to endure a dance with Charles Beckett.

When the late hour finally started to catch up to me, and I'd said all my goodbyes to the officers, and the governor, and had made my way outside, I found that the night had become quite foggy during the hours I spent in the governor's mansion.

I headed for the great iron gate, intending to head for home, when I was halted in my tracks by someone calling my name.

"Doctor Gray."

I turned to see Lieutenant Groves walking hurriedly after me.

"I heard that you were going to be walking home alone, and I wondered if you might permit me to escort you?" he asked politely.

"Lieutenant, I should hate to inconvenience you," I said kindly. "I assure you that I know the way quite well."

He persisted, but with a smile. "It certainly would not be an inconvenience, Doctor. It is my duty to see to the safety of the citizens of Port Royal, and I would consider it a privilege if you might let me accompany you."

"Solely so that you might feel you are fulfilling your duty, sir?" I asked, teasing him a little.

"I confess, no," he said honestly, "but I would certainly feel more settled about your safety if you would permit me."

"Very well," I replied.

We spoke more of horses and dogs, and I told him about my uncle the veterinary surgeon. He asked a lot of thoughtful questions designed to find out more about me, but all within the bounds of propriety considering we had just met.

I confess that I found his company quite pleasant, and that he was an interesting conversationalist. He did tell me something of his naval career, but only when I pressed him on the matter. I thought it refreshing that it wasn't the first thing thrown in my face in an attempt to impress me.

When I arrived at the small gate that led to my front door, I will admit that I lingered there speaking with him for much longer than was entirely proper, but it had been two years since I cared much for what the townsfolk whispered about me concerning my dealings, or lack thereof, with men.

When we reached a natural lull in our conversation, I decided that I really needed to retire by then, and I said my goodnight.

"Lieutenant, thank you so much for taking the time to escort me home," I said, graciously.

"It was completely my pleasure, Doctor Gray," he said, " and I've thoroughly enjoyed speaking with you this evening. Perhaps I shall take you up on your offer to see your horse at some point."

"Well, I'll warn you now, he's quite the handful," I said with a laugh. "He needs work on his manners, Portuguese rogue that he is."

"I am sure you'll do a wonderful job training him," Groves replied, pleasantly. "Well, I bid you goodnight, Doctor."

"Good night, Lieutenant," I replied, "and thank you."

I know that he watched to make sure I was securely inside my little house before he left, but I didn't turn around when I reached the door.

I laid awake for a while that night, wondering whether or not I could see myself spending time with a man like Groves. Certainly he was polite, and handsome, and had distinguished himself so far in his military career. He also seemed to have no qualms about the fact that I was a woman doctor, which gave him greater standing in my book.

Possibly, I would have spent a lot more time with him, if it wasn't for what happened the next morning.

I awoke to the sound of someone knocking on my door, and I sat up blearily, trying to figure out what time it might be. The knocking repeated itself, and I climbed out of bed, enrobed myself in a dressing gown, and ran my fingers through my hair on the way to the door, already preparing to pull it into a hasty braid as I assumed I was being awoken for a medical issue, and would have to leave momentarily for the hospital up the hill.

A young boy of ten or so stood outside my door, and to my great surprise, handed me what appeared to be a wrapped bundle of yellow roses. "I'm supposed to deliver these to you," the young man said shyly.

"Thank you, Robert," I said in return, knowing who he was, and that he often made deliveries for his mistress, Mrs. Healy.

Robert, relieved of his responsibility, scurried off down the road, leaving me to take the flowers inside and ponder who could have possibly sent them. There was no note or card, and it wasn't anywhere near my birthday.

I arranged them in a vase of water, and sat down to have breakfast, shooting glances at the bouquet intermittently while I tried to figure out the mystery.

For a few minutes, I wondered whether John and Alice had sent them, as a thank you for all I had tried to do for their daughter, but although it entirely seemed like something Alice would have done, as well as I knew her, I knew they didn't have the money to spend on a bouquet like that, especially since they were already having difficulty paying my fees.

Such was often the case with many of my patients that weren't part of Port Royal's elite, and I often found myself paid in baked goods, or eggs, or home cured bacon.

Briefly I wondered if they could be from Charles Beckett. I could see him doing such a thing as a way of apology for his comment from the night before. Although the roses were elegant, I figured that Charles probably would have sent a score instead of a dozen, just as a way of showing off, so it was less likely to be him.

Then the outrageous thought that perhaps my friend the lieutenant had sent them occurred, and I wondered if it was at all possible. While a bit far-fetched to consider, we had gotten along quite nicely the night before, and we'd obviously both agreed that we were each considering spending more time in one another's company.

Of the three possibilities, he seemed the most likely, but I determined that I would go and see Mrs. Healy once I had breakfasted and dressed, to see if I could wangle out of her who had sent them.

I didn't have to wait long to speak with Mrs. Healy, as she showed up at my door about half an hour later, and I let her in after she'd knocked.

"Mornin', mornin', dearie," she said pleasantly, bustling her large frame into my kitchen. "Sorry t' bother yeh, mum," she said amiably, "but it seems as if Robert's gone an' made a mistake."

"Mistake?" I asked.

"Yes, silly child tha' 'e is," she continued, "'e brought yeh flowers wot was meant for t' guv'nor's 'ouse."

"Oh," I replied, hoping the disappointment didn't come through in my voice. "I'll just get them, shall I?"

"Ah, thanks, luv," she said, taking the vase I handed her. "I'll jus' tell Estrella up at t' mansion this 'ere's your vase, and she'll see to it yeh get it back."

"That's fine," I said. Apparently I didn't need it at the moment anyway.

Mrs. Healy bustled back toward the door. "Be back in a jif, luv," she said cheerfully.

"Back?" I asked.

"'Course," she said, giving me a queer look, "wiv yer flowers. Robert sent 'em to the wrong place as well. Mixed 'em up good, 'e did."

"Oh," I said, brightening again, as she left to retrieve the correct order. By then I was terribly curious to see what she would return with, and I couldn't wait to ask her if she knew who sent them.

I spotted Mrs. Healy coming back up my walkway half an hour later, and I tried my best not to look anxious for her return. I knew before she'd gotten all the way in the door that there was lavender in the bundle she carried, and she stood next to me while I opened it.

"This 'ere's an interesin' bunch," Mrs. Healy said pleasantly, as I unwrapped the paper the flowers were in. "Gentleman as ordered 'em were right specific in wot 'e wanted."

"Who was it?" I asked, dying for an explanation.

"Well, I don' rightly know," she said. "I was 'opin' you'd tell me 'oo yeh thought sent 'em."

The bouquet was a large bundle of fragrant lavender, mixed with roses of a vibrant coral pink, and sprigs of rose leaves. The color combination was stunning, and the fragrance heavenly.

"I have no idea," I said at last, after we'd both admired the flowers. "Tell me what the gentleman looked like. Perhaps I'll know him from his description."

"Well, it were a right strange thing...jus' b'fore we was getting' ready t' close, these 'ere two strange fellas come in an' want to order a delivery. Fer you."

I indicated to Mrs. Healy that she should sit at the kitchen table, and poured us both a cup of tea and put the flowers in a pot of water while she spoke.

"Odd lookin' chaps, they was. Somethin' sneaky about 'em. Unsavory yeh might say," Mrs. Healy said, and I laughed.

"I have unsavory chaps sending me flowers, now?" I asked her.

"It weren't the two gents that the flower's are from, dearie. The tall one, why 'e says they're from a secret admirer of yours, and 'e wouldn't say more'n that."

My mind raced, trying to think who could have possibly done this. Certainly not Groves, and I was starting to become more concerned that this would be something that Charles would come up with.

"I thought you said they were very specific about what they wanted?" I asked, taking a sip of my tea.

"Wiv t' flowers, luv. Had ta be lavender per 'oo sent 'em, an' the tall one, 'e adds a few things 'e thinks ought go in the mix. 'E tells me wot 'e wants to say, and I tells 'im wot flower 'e needs." She frowned, looking puzzled herself for a moment.

"What did he specify in addition to the lavender?" I asked her.

"Somethin' fer 'ope," Mrs. Healy replied, recalling her conversation, "an' somethin' fer passion. Rose leaves, an' roses o' coral pink."

My eyebrows shot up at her words, and I felt a bit embarrassed as well as completely confused. I was beginning to pray fervently that they weren't from Charles Beckett.

"Strange though," Mrs. Healy added, "lavender's not somethin' yeh'd think 'e'd send wiv that bunch."

"Why?" I asked, knowing Mrs. Healy knew her business well.

"'Cause it means 'e don't trust you," she replied, the tiniest smile on her lips. She laughed at my reddened cheeks, and spoke again. "Quite t' message 'e sent yeh, luv."

Passion, hope and mistrust. I was at a complete loss.

--

Ch.3 up soon!

Have a Happy Halloween, maties!