Cathy was having the dream again. The dream where she could hear, but not see, the gulls, the cannons firing, the splash of the water against ships' hulls, the cry of fighting, the cry of men in pain. It was all too real, too horrendous, too much to bear and she wanted it to stop, stop, stop now. She preferred death to this dream.
She sat up suddenly, shaking it off, but the terror, the horrible pounding and racing of her heart made it seem as if it would jump out of her chest. If that happened, what would she do? Would she try to put it back in, see if it still fit, or would she take her knife, stab it, hack it into little pieces, so she could finally stop the pain.
Charles had been gone for weeks. There had been no word, no clue, no idea as to where he was. He'd said he'd return but he didn't know when, and she had been left to wait and wait. Was this how he had felt when she had run away from him to take refuge in Havana? Had he felt this sorrowful, this alone, a void in his heart that nothing could fill but her return?
She got out of bed and wearing nothing but her sheer lawn nightgown and went onto the veranda and stared out towards the sea. Even in the wispy nightgown she was miserably hot, tonight there was no air, no breeze to offer relief from the overwhelming heat. Maybe she should take off her night gown and pour water over herself, but as the air dried the water she would only find herself suffering in the heat once more.
She wandered back into her room and found where she had hidden Charles' opium pipe. There was pitifully little left, just enough to give her relief this night from the dream and the heat. She lit the pipe and inhaled the way he had taught her—small breaths, don't waste the smoke. Thankfully there was more left than she'd expected, and she fell into a pleasant opium dream where there were no ships, no cannons, no battles and no Charles.
She slept until late in the day, but woke up with a pounding in her head from the opium that would not go away. She wanted to reach for the pipe, but then put aside. Being an addict, addicted to the poppy, was not what she wanted. She would survive the headache without it.
Someone was knocking at the door and she wished they would stop because it was aggravating the hammering inside her head. She opened the door to find Eleanor standing in front of her, holding a tray with hot tea, fruit, and bread.
"Cathy, you aren't even dressed!" she exclaimed. She went to the window and opened the shutters, letting in the hot air, but flooding the room with light. "You never sleep this late, even in the hot weather. Get dressed and eat your breakfast—do anything, just don't stay in a dark room all day in your shift. Max has been asking where you were, so I decided to bring your breakfast up to you."
Eleanor went to the cupboard and pulled out a pink sack gown. "Here, this will be cool enough for this weather. Come on, Cathy, would Charles want to see you like this?"
"I've had the nightmare again, Eleanor, I keep having it over and over. Something's coming, I can feel it, I don't know what it is, or who it is, but every night I dream about it. I don't feel safe here, I've never felt safe here, unless I knew that Charles was close. And now I don't even know where he is, I don't even know if he is alive, no one knows anything. My brother and the Ranger are out to sea and we've no word as to whether or not he's engaged the Urca de Lima yet."
Eleanor laid eyes on a familiar object sitting on a small table next to the bed. "Well, this certainly isn't going to help you. Did he introduce you to opium? He tried to get me to smoke it, but I refused, I thought you would have the good sense to do the same thing."
"It's the only thing that drives the nightmares away, the only way I can sleep dreamless at night. Don't worry, I've only been smoking out what he left in the bowl. Opium is wretched stuff, I have dreadful headaches the day after I smoke it, but when I wake up after having the nightmares, it feels like a godsend. Don't worry Eleanor, I'll see if Ruby Marie can fix up something for me, but if she can't find anything that works I will get more opium. I cannot live with these nightmares anymore. If I can't have Charles to chase them away, I'll take whatever I can get."
"Eat, Cathy, and when you're done give the tray to Max. And go swimming, play in the surf, anything, just don't smoke any more opium. I don't think Charles would be happy to see you as you are now." Eleanor started to close the door behind her, but stopped when Cathy said:
"Eleanor?" Eleanor turned around. "Which of us do you think Charles would choose? I mean, if you have your Spanish gold I think he may find himself wanting us both, and I don't think I could live with that."
Eleanor slammed the door behind her and hurried down the stairs to the brothel to find Max. Though their relationship had died long ago, she counted on Max for small favors, which, for a price, Max was generally willing to do. Hopefully Max would be willing to keep an eye on Cathy for a few days, because she didn't trust the way Cathy was behaving.
If only Charles… if only Charles what, she asked herself. Charles was not a free man. Even if she did gain her prize of Spanish gold, even if Charles did try to insinuate himself back into her life, there would still be Cathy. Cathy was the rock he anchored himself on. Cathy was the one who could soothe and calm him, the one he would listen to. Cathy had an emotional bond with him that she never could have. The one truth was that though Charles had long been her lover, Cathy was the love of his life.
No, I don't want him back, thought Eleanor, as much as I can be drawn to him, as much as he makes me feel so womanly and passionate in bed, I don't want him. And besides, he would never let go of Cathy, he might lie and cheat on us both, but he would never leave her. I don't want to step into that. I would never want to share, never be second, and lie though he might, that is all I would be.
The next morning Eleanor woke to the sound of thunder. Walking over to the window, she pushed open the shutters and saw that the day was clear, bright, and sunny. Suddenly she heard the rolling again, and realized it was not thunder but…
"Cannon fire! Cathy burst into the room, Max trailing behind her. "Cannons! Whose guns are those, I don't recognize them. They're not the Walrus, or the Ranger—who is it? The Scarborough is supposed to be moored at one of the islands, could they have put to sea and be trying to shell us?"
"I don't know, I don't recognize them either," Eleanor said slowly, "One of us should find Anne or Jack and see if they recognize them, or if they have any idea as to who might be shelling us."
At that moment Jack Rackham and Anne Bonny came into the room. "I don't suppose you have any idea as to who might be blessing us with their presence, do you?" Rackham said.
"Maybe someone who knows our weaknesses," Cathy moved closer to the window. Still the sound but no sight of them, she thought. "Ships with the sails furled, the fort unmanned or all but deserted. No guns in town and no one to man them if there were. No one to defend us, just a bunch of drunk pirates and townspeople who'll do nothing but cower behind their doors."
"Someone angry, bitter and reckless who figures he has nothing to lose." Anne Bonny spoke up.
"Vane," said Cathy.
"Vane," Anne agreed.
"I'm going upstairs to pack some stuff and get dressed. All of you would do well to do the same thing. We're in for a fight, and we don't know how it will go. Charles could come to protect us, or he might decide he doesn't care."
"He would care about you, Miss Cathy. Come with me, we pack a bag for you, then one for me. We get you breakfast, and try not to think about this right now, yes?" Max spoke for the first time since the shelling had begun.
Eleanor felt a pang of jealousy as Max took Cathy by the hand and led her out of the room. Like everyone else, Max waited on Cathy, because you wanted to take care of Cathy, protect her. Stop thinking like that, she told herself, don't be jealous of Cathy over Max. There's only one person Cathy loves, and like Max said, he'll protect her even if he tells all the rest of us to go to hell. Max won't snare Cathy no matter how hard she tries.
Rackham and Anne were arguing over whether or not it was Vane trying to shell the city. How did he get a ship, how did he get the men, did he intend to place Nassau under siege? Would the crews on their ships in the harbor be effective in battle, how many of the crew could return to man the guns. Was there even any point? What about the planters outside of town, would they be in danger, should they be warned? So many questions and no time really to prepare for what was coming.
Cathy and Max re-appeared, dressed and carrying bundles in their hands. Eleanor, too had dressed, and was standing on the balcony. "No sign of him, yet," she said softly, but all of them knew that soon the sails would appear on the horizon and reveal who had been firing their cannons so early in the morning.
"I got an idea," Max said suddenly, and took Cathy by the hand and led her back to her room. They did not appear right away and Eleanor wondered what was taking so long, until they re-appeared and she understood why.
Max had dressed Cathy in a magenta dress with a low cut bodice. She'd laced Cathy's waist far tighter than was her habit, with the result that not only was did her waist look smaller, but her breasts were pushed up higher. She had pinned up half of Cathy's hair on top of her head in loose, careless curls, and the rest hung down her back. To finish she had rouged Cathy's lips and cheeks with a soft pink color. The result was that Cathy looked soft and desirable, as well as seductive.
"Why Max?" Eleanor asked softly, and Max gave her an incredulous look, as if she wondered why she asked.
"If he sees her first, he may go easier on us for her sake. He hasn't seen her for, what, almost three months? Unless he don't love her no more, the sight of her looking so lovely may soften him. She's smart enough to know how to handle him. If she's soft and gentle and yielding, he'll remember how it feels to hold her in his arms, and he'll want her. Just look at her, I'd take her to bed myself right now if she'd let me. She may have to beg him for our lives, and it will go easier on all of us if she can make him desire her after all this time. She knows what he is, but she still loves him. Best hope he still loves her, too."
"Well, well," said Rackham, "I must say that I approve. He'll want her, oh yes, I can guarantee that. If she puts him in a good enough mood, he may even let me off the hook. I must say, though, I don't pity you Eleanor. If he makes it here before Flint does, I wouldn't put anything past him. I would not be surprised if he's engaged a ship before sailing into Nassau. He's letting us know just what he has. If the cannon fire hasn't served as sufficient warning, I'd suggest you get word to the captains to either prepare for a fight, or flee. He's going to try to capture Nassau, and it wouldn't surprise me if he succeeds."
"So, he's gotten a ship, maybe two, which is what he'd need. Then he managed to find a crew from somewhere to man the ships and the guns. And this crew is also experienced enough to know how to sack a city? How in the world could he have gotten a ship in the first place?" Cathy was trying to sound sarcastic, to spit venom at Rackham, but she realized that Charles could have pulled it off. And if it was him, Max had set her out as bait to try to save all of them. She was feeling like a sacrificial lamb and she didn't like it.
Anne Bonny joined them on the balcony. "We all know what he can do, he's very resourceful. It's too bad we don't know what he's planning, but no way of knowing that, now is there? Hopefully Jack and I can be taken back on as crew, and after he takes one look at you, Cathy, he'll want to bed you as soon as he can. He always was like that with you, just don't refuse him or talk back to him, and you'll be fine." She narrowed her eyes at Max and Eleanor, "As for you two, I don't know what he has in mind. I'd watch myself if I were you." She took Jack's spyglass and looked out to sea.
They sat through the afternoon, waiting for the signs of sails that did not appear. "What is he doing?" grumbled Anne, "Torturing us by making us wait? If he's not in by the next tide, I'd say that he's changed his mind, if it was ever him at all."
"Oh, I think it was him. That cannonade this morning was for the benefit of Eleanor and me. He's letting me know that he's coming for me, and he's letting Eleanor know he's come for Nassau. The queen is dead, long live the king." If you're going to come, come, Cathy wished, don't play games and don't make me suffer like this. I don't even know if you're still the man I love.
"You mean, the queen is dead, long live the king and new queen," said Eleanor without bitterness. I wish now that Flint had never left. I'd rather not have the Urca's gold if it means losing what I have."
"Don't talk like that, Eleanor. I don't want to be the new queen of Nassau. If I could take my treasure and board a ship now, I would," said Cathy, "But what if he's looking for me? I won't put anyone's life in danger. I won't. I'll do whatever he wants of me, as long as all of you are safe. Even you and Anne, Rackham."
He bowed in reply, and took another look through his spyglass. "I think you'll get to fulfill that, Cathy. I see a schooner and a brigantine coming in to port. If they anchor with their guns parallel to shore, I think we can guess who that is. I hope Nassau yields without firing a shot, that means you, Eleanor. I don't know if he intends to let his men raid the planters, but for now he may satisfy himself with having you yield. Live to fight another day, is my advice, for what it's worth."
"Come Cathy," Max took her hand and led her upstairs to her room. She undid her petticoat and removed it, then took off her bodice to relieve her of her corset and re-laced it. "We make it easy for him, it put him in a better mood, yes?" She pulled the pins out of Cathy's hair and the red curls spilled over her shoulders and down her hips.
"There, he see you, he gonna want you and want you now." She slipped her hand slyly up Cathy's skirt, and her fingers found what she was looking for. "Oh, you already wet, you want him so bad, don't you? Just wait, he'll give you what you want and more, much more, at least that's what we want." She kissed her quickly on the lips and took her back down to the others.
They watched the ships come sailing in, watched as they anchored and raised the gun ports. Then two jolly boats splashed into the water, and slowly rowed towards shore. "This is it", muttered Anne, "The moment of truth."
Eleanor grabbed Rackham's spyglass and saw Vane sitting in the prow of the boat, watching the small party on the balcony. "Get it over with, Vane," she prayed, "I can't stand this anymore."
The boat beached, and Vane jumped out, followed by three of his men, He strode purposefully to the staircase and mounted the stairs. Every eye was on him, he was thinner and it made him look more ruthless. People stepped out of the way as he made his way to where the group stood, waiting. And the first person he saw was Eleanor, holding onto Cathy's hand.
He held out a hand, "Cathy," he said, a command more than a request, but it was all she needed. She let go of Eleanor's hand and ran to him. He put his arm around her, holding her close.
"Don't you dare leave me again, you bastard," she whispered, "Or if you do, it better be a damn good reason."
He laughed and whispered something in her ear, but she looked at him and smiled.
Round one to the white queen, she thought.