Chapter 10.
Reaching for stars.
It had been three days since Wendy had called him Master. She looked out the window of the master suite onto the dormant lawn and wondered where in England she was. Part of her mind, a part she hide carefully from the pirate was still hers. She heard soft cursing and turned to see what was his trouble now.
James was seated on the bed trying to button his shirt with his good hand and the mechanical one. "Blasted new buttons." He muttered.
Wendy watched him struggle, but without permission knew she should not approach him. There were small bruises on her arms and one on her thigh. They were the lessons that she would never forget.
James looked up, feeling her watch him. He dropped his hands uselessly to his sides. "Come here, wench!" He ordered harshly. He had been harsher with her since in the last two days. He pointed to the space between his knees and watched her kneel before him. "Smee is busy with duties, button this blasted shirt, woman."
Wendy didn't speak, nor did she look into the cold eyes of the man, she let her fingers move to the buttons and finished the job his hands could not. Deftly she closed the shirt and smoothed it over his shoulders. He wordlessly handed her the tie and watched her closely as she placed it under his collar and tied it in a perfect Windsor knot. She smoothed the collar down over the tie and knelt back.
James, who was silent, didn't move. He just stared at her wondering what life would have been like had he married. He looked at the young woman kneeling on the floor between his legs. She was not beautiful, not by the modern standard. In his day she'd have been referred to as a handsome young woman. Her body was nicely shaped, he had not missed that. Her voice was pleasant, and cultured. She moved with grace, and had manners that most young people had forgotten even when trained to use them. He stared down at her, feeling his gaze her eyes slowly came up to meet his. She had something else, a stubborn streak. He sighed, she was still not broken. Betrayed by her body, yes, downtrodden, certainly, but hardly broken. She was still in control.
James savagely gripped her hair and pulled her face up to his. "I'll be gone for a few days, my little captive, business." He growled at her. "You will have no visitors; Smee will bring your meals but not speak to you." He released her hair as savagely as he'd gripped it. She was sent sprawling a few feet away. "Use your time well, wench." He stepped over her and exited the room, never even looking back.
Wendy waited, when she heard his steps on the stairs, she let the silent tears fall. Slowly she pulled herself off the floor, ripped off the nightgown and robe he'd insisted on her wearing and tore them to shreds. She went to the bath room and filled the tub again. She'd been forced to bath with that man, to scrub his back and anything else he wanted. This time she scrubbed herself, working hard to remove the vile feel of his touch.
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James found Smee with his overcoat, waiting for him at the foot of the stairs. "I want you to cut off the radio to that room. No sound is she to hear until I return." He instructed his manservant. "I want her deprived of all humanity! No sounds of any kind!" He looked at the man. "And she is to have but one meal a day. Bread, milk, honey only. The barest of meals and only in the evening, is this understood?"
Smee had worried eyes. "Aye, Captain…but the baby?"
"Will be fine, it will take from her what she gets." James looked back at his door up the stairs. "I want her weakened, when I return she will break to my will."
Smee also looked at the door, worried. "And if she does not?"
James looked at the man, his eyes blazing with hate. "Then I will kill her."
"Captain!" Smee admonished.
James patted the servants arm. "She'll break." He promised. "She's near the break now. Three days with out me will have her longing for my return, my touch…my mercy." He winked. "I was a master of torture, remember?"
"Aye, Captain." Smee nodded. "But this one, she's not like anyone else. I think she's stronger than her great granny ever was!"
James looked at the door once more. "It's a pity having to destroy so lovely a porcelain doll." He lamented. "Pity she was born a Darling."
Smee watched the master of the house leave; he looked back up at the door and muttered. "Pity the poor girl ever encountered you." He went about his work for the day.
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Feeling a bit more cleanly, Wendy padded on bear feet into bedroom. She moved to the armoire that the garments she was allowed to wear were in. She opened the door and leaned on the edge of the wood to gaze at the collection. In the back of the garments was something James had not seemed to care much for. It was a linen day dress, a soft green color, like sage that had been harvested. It was cut with a wide skirt and a fitted bodice. She pulled it out of the armoire and pulled it on. In a drawer she found little slippers that fit, and she put these on as well. Dressed she moved to look out the windows again. Prisoner though she may be, her mind was still free and she vowed it would remain so.
A clock in the room, which had a ship's like bell sounded the hour. Smee didn't come. Hour upon hour passed, and Smee didn't come. Wendy took a seat in one of the large winged chairs. Fear crept up into her throat from her stomach. She looked at the clock, and counted the hours since the Captain had departed from her company. He had left the rooms at nearly ten, and it was now just after five in the afternoon. She'd been sitting in the winged chair for over three hours, and he was gone now seven. She looked out the window; fear her only companion in the room. At eight the door opened, Smee walked in, not looking at her with a tray in his hands. He placed it on the dining table in the little alcove. He turned, again his eyes never met hers, and he exited the rooms.
Wendy walked over to the table, looked down at the meager repast. She lifted the crust of bread, and thanked the Gods it was at least fresh. Dipping some honey on the bread she ate it slowly. She had a feeling it was going to have to last her. Slowly she poured some honey into the milk and stirred it. She had never liked milk, but at least with the honey it didn't taste too bad. She finished her meal, and walked back to the winged chair but didn't take a seat. She moved to where James always stood to turn on the music. She reached out tentatively and turned the switch, as she feared the power to the machine had been cut off.
Being a Darling, Wendy had long ago studied pirates and their ways. James was depriving her. Deprivation was an effective tool, and Wendy was already in a weakened state. She sunk into the chair and stared at the sky as it filled with stars now that the sun had gone down. "Second star to the right and straight on to morning," she said as if it were a mantra. She repeated it over and over and over until she fell asleep in the arm chair.
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James was being entertained in one of the more fashionable houses in London. He charmed his hostess and her pretty daughter. His manners never failed him when he wanted to use them. He allowed the hostess to cling to his good arm as he escorted her to the dining room.
"Captain Rogers," She cooed. "I'm just so surprised that you've no wife…"
"Alas, dear lady," He lamented on cue. "Few women wish to be saddled with a war hero who has lost a limb. The girls of today are…not as gracious as the ladies of your age."
The hostess preened and blushed.
James let his eyes wander the daughter of the house, though she was already engaged she was looking at James as if he were a ice cream Sunday. "And the few that are, alas and alack are already spoken for."
Now the daughter blushed.
James was enjoying this immensely. He spent the evening pleasantly discussing the issues of the day with the master of the house. When it came time to take his leave he was escorted to the door by the daughter of the house who discreetly inquired as to where he was staying in town. James told her quietly he had a residence not far, gave her the address and watched as she blushed softly.
He sipped a brandy in his rooms, and smiled as he heard the soft tapping on his door. He put on a surprised look as he found the daughter of his host and hostess standing in the dimly lit hall. "Miss Bentley." He opened the door to bid her entry.
The girl moved in and looked at him. "I hope you'll forgive my late visit." She held out a satchel of papers. "But you forgot this when you left this evening, and I though you might have need of it in the morning."
James took the satchel, and also her hand. He raised it to his lips. "How kind of you to think of my needs," he purred.
The girl watched with a mesmerized gaze. "Not at all."
He looked at her with a wolfish hunger. "Won't you take off your coat, and keep company with me?"
Her coat fell off her shoulders, landing at her feet. Her eyes never left his. "I cannot stay long." She whispered.
James smiled as he pulled her into his embrace. "Then let us not waste time," lifting her off her feet he carried her to his bedroom. "Let's not pretend that we don't know why you came here tonight Margery Bentley. You came to feel what my bedding is like, did you not?"
"Yes." She moaned. "Yes."
James smiled as he kicked the door closed.
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Something at the window caused Wendy to open her eyes. A strange sound, something tapping, and screeching. The girl opened her eyes and saw pellets of ice striking. A cold knife like feeling went though her. She had been dreaming, dreaming of fairy like creatures coming to her rescue, only to open her eyes to ice. Never Land had abandoned her, and the rest of the Darlings she was sure. She cried softly.
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James took his time bedding the girl beneath him. She moaned as he slid deeply within her. He asked curtly if her betrothed ever filled her so completely, only to have her moan and shake her head. He teased the girl, telling her that was a pity. He told her girls like her needed to be completely filled. He told her he pitied her, that now that she'd had a real man she'd find the other wanting. He was amused by her enthusiasm in betraying her beloved soon to be husband. He asked her if she would be willing to entertain him after her wedding. She panted under him that she would give her soul to him if she could. He laughed softly at the thought. She then offered to be his mistress, and he turned her down.
"I've no need for a mistress. Now with London filled with young women ready to come to my bed." He kissed her shoulder. "However," he said with gentleness that belied his deepest feelings. "I will gladly accept your hospitality from time to time…. In your new home…in your new husband's bed."
"Anything!" she raised her hips to meet his.
James smiled to himself as he satisfied the stupid girl beneath him. He then wondered what Wendy was doing.
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Wendy ached as the sun rose and filled her room. She pulled herself from the chair and staggered groggily to the bath. She filled the tub and removed the green gown. When she left the bath she was not surprised to find Smee had cleared her tray and the room was empty once more.
This day passed as much as the day before it had. She stared out the window, deprived of human company. Again in the evening Smee appeared with the tray. She ate but not happily. This time she turned off the lights when she took her seat at the windows. She stared at the stars, again repeating the mantra, "Second star to the right…straight on to morning…" over and over. Hour after hour passed, she heard the ships bell ring eleven and she rose from the chair. Placing her hands on the cold glass of the window she raged. "How could you forsaken us! How could you leave me to this, Pan…how could you?"
Crumpling into a puddle at the base of the window she cried.
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James opened his door; he was truly surprised when he found Mrs. Bentley standing on the other side. "Abigail, how lovely to see you."
The hostess from the evening before sighed. "Forgive the intrusion, but I found this and thought you might need it." In her hands was a scarf that James knew full well was his.
"Do come in." He smiled gently, as his hand took the offered scarf. "I had wondered what became of this. I am not careful enough with my garments." He teased.
Abigail Bentley stood in his rooms looking slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, well Phillip is not always careful with his wool scarf either." She commented.
"Would you join me in a drink?" He offered with a hand toward the little bar set up on the stand.
"Yes, thank you." She removed her coat and draped it over a chair. "Scotch if you have it. Neat please."
He poured and handed it to her, then watched as she sipped the liquid. "And where is Phillip this evening?"
"He has his night at the club." Abigail stated with a grim grin.
"And your charming daughter? Won't she miss her…mummy?" James had played this game with others so often.
"She and her young man are being entertained by Sir Lawson and his family." The woman smiled.
James smiled as well. "Abigail," He addressed her without pretending. "Let's be straight with one another. Did you come here to return my scarf or in hopes of a little sex?"
Abigail smiled up at him, "In hopes of a lot of Sex, Captain Rogers." She stated honestly.
James laughed softly. "The bedroom is though there, go and get naked, I'll be right in."
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Wendy paced in front of the window, cursing the blasted child called Pan. Cursing the fairy kingdom and cursing the original Wendy. The howl of the wind chilled her, and she turned her back on the stars. "Screw you all!" She fumed as she walked away from the windows and tossed herself to the captain's bed.
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Smoking a long thin cigar after he'd finished he looked down at the satisfied face of his partner. "You're not bad for a middle aged woman, Abby. Better than your daughter, but she has time to mature into a fine lover."
Abigail pouted, "You mean to tell me, my daughter has been here?"
"I had her last night." He said smoking contently. "You tonight….perhaps it will be Phillip who comes to me tomorrow." He mused.
"That's not funny, Captain Rogers." Abigail gasped.
"No, it's not." He agreed as he took hold of her breast. "But it's true. I've had men use persuasion in business before. And a good cock sucking is a good cock sucking no matter who administers it, Abby."
She glared at him. "I didn't come here to persuade you to do business with Phillip."
"I know that too." He blew smoke at her. "You came here to get screwed, and I've done that, haven't I….I screwed you better than you've been screwed in a long time, Abby."
She pushed his hand away from her breast. "I think we're though here."
James gripped her hair. "Not until I say we're though, Abby. Now be a good girl…" The woman cried out as he filled her mouth with his engorged member. "Suck." As she did as ordered, James mind went to Wendy miles away.
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Wendy felt the warmth of the sun as it filled the room. She rose from the bed, stumbled to the bath and drew it. She looked into the mirror over the sink, and frowned at the dark circles. She bathed, dressed and took a seat in the chair to stare out at the desolate countryside.
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Phillip stood beside James in the private dining room of the expensive London hotel. He watched as Rogers read over the contract. "You dive a hard bargain, Rogers!"
"No harder than you." James commented as he read on.
Phillip Bentley scoffed lightly. "Hell man, you're more like a pirate than a businessman."
James lifted one brow and cocked his head to one side. "Today a businessman must be part pirate."
Bentley held out his pen. "It's a good deal for both of us." He urged the other to sign.
James smiled; "Tell me, Phillip…just what does this do for you?"
"It solidifies my position with the company." He admitted.
"Nothing else?" James asked shortly.
"You know damn well it does more." Phillip sighed. "It means the company goes on…" he again offered the pen.
"Enough to, oh say…make you offer certain… inducement or enticements to sweeten the offer?"
"Enough to make me over look the fact that you've sacked both my wife and daughter." Phillip said coldly.
James smiled, "I'm glad to know that was not overlooked entirely. I hate doing business with a man who is not aware." He placed the contract on the table. "Tell me, why do you indorse the marriage of your daughter to that fool boy?"
Phillip assessed the man before him then answered. "If Maggie had been born a boy…it would have been different….I was married to Abigail by arrangement. Neither she nor I really care for one another. I turn a blind eye as does she… the child was to cement us…. And give me an heir…. A daughter is only a bargaining chip! My partner and I hated the idea of the wealth going out of the family…we arranged for the marriage much as our fathers did ours. This contract means there will be business for them to inherit."
"I like your honesty." James stated. "I enjoyed bedding your wife and daughter. I may wish to do so in the future."
Phillip shrugged and nodded. "Do so."
"But I need to know you are…true to me as well, Phillip." James smiled eerily.
The man looked at the man with the contract at his finger tips. "What do you want?"
James smiled coldly.
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Wendy ate the last morsel of bread in darkness. She had not bothered with the lights. Here in the darkness she cursed the light, and cursed the Pan. She cursed everything. The icy wind pelted the window with snow, and clouds hide the stars.
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Disgusted with himself, Phillip watched as James signed the contract. He wanted to gag and die. "You are a pirate." He growled at the man who handed him the contract.
"When I reach for stars, I get them." James said coldly. "Now go home and send your whore of a wife to me. My bed is cold. Send your daughter as well. Tell them to dress like the true tarts they are." He opened the door of the dining room for his newest partner. "And Phillip, you come as well. We'll make it a real orgie."
Phillip shook with rage. "Haven't you done enough to me, to us?"
"No." James stated coldly. "None go, bring back those whores for us to enjoy."
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The wind was cold and howled like a banshee. Wendy had given up the mantra; she now paced in front of the window silently. She was cold inside, and hungry. The howl became too much for her, she smashed her hands into the window breaking the expensive glass and cutting her hands. Falling to the ground she lay there until Smee pulled her away to clean her hands and bandage them. The men who came to board up the window for the night had been warned not to look at her or speak to her. Smee didn't speak as he bound her wounded hands. He could see her soul was wounded as well, and he pitied her.
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Phillip returned to the address of James residence in the city. His wife and daughter in the tacky dresses accompanied him. James opened the door and smiled at the family. He bid them enter. He told the women to take off their coats. He looked at the tacky dresses and gave approval. Placing a hand over Abigail's shoulder and squeezing her breast with his mechanical hand, he shoved Maggie toward her father. Phillip stared at the man with hollow eyes. "Phillip, why don't you take payment in return for all you've given Maggie?"
Maggie stared from one man to the other. "No." She whispered at her father shaking her head. "No."
James was disrobing Abigail. "You do that whore while I do this one."
Abigail whimpered softly. Maggie gasped as her father tore her dress from her shoulders with more rage than she knew he was capable of.
James smiled. "Watch." He breathed in Abigail's ear.
Hours later, James opened the door as the trio left. "I want to thank you for a lovely time here in London…we must do it again…soon."
Maggie, tears staining her cheek along with makeup moaned pitifully as she passed him. Abigail kept her eyes from meeting his. Only Phillip looked at him, shook his hand and left with a bit of a swagger. James closed the door and went to bed.
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Wendy sat in the chair for the day; from time to time she'd look at the bandages on her hands. Men had come during the day to repair the window she'd broken. She had gone silent, like the room.
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James entered the house as nightfall had taken away the light of the sun. He shrugged out of his coat and left it on the newel post. He turned at the sound of someone coming from the kitchen. "Smee." He greeted, pleased with himself. "How's our captive."
"She broke a window and cut her hands." The old man reported with sadness.
"How bad?" James was suddenly concerned. "She didn't need stitches did she?"
"No." Smee said. "But it will leave scars."
James looked at the hand that was not his own. "There are scars and then there are scars."
Smee nodded. "I was getting her dinner." He showed the captain the tray.
James waved him off. "No, not tonight, tonight she will feast only on me and my presences."
"Captain," Smee protested. " That girl has had little enough to keep a bird alive…"
"One night without food will not harm her or the child she carries." James said smoothing his long hair. "Tonight she will welcome me, and feed only on my being with her." He began to ascend the stairs.
"I hope you know what you're doing." Smee called as he turned to return to the kitchen with the tray.
James opened the door, looked in and found Wendy standing at the window. She was dressed in a long white gown, and turned when she heard the sound. He watched as she moved toward him. A few feet from him she fell to her knees. "Captain." She moaned softly.
"Wendy." He greeted her with warmth. "Come greet me."
She rose again, on shaky feet she moved toward him. When she came before him she slowly slid her hands to his waist. "Welcome home." She began to cry.
He took her in his arms, held her close and kissed the top of her head.
"Don't leave me again." She begged. Her voice muffled in his shirt.
"Who is your master?" He whispered.
"You are," she looked up at him. "You are."
He nodded, smiled and cupped her chin. "Have you missed me, poppet?"
"Yes." She answered.
James bent slightly and picked her up, his face inches from hers. "Show me."
Wendy kissed his respectfully, and then placed her head on his shoulder.
James carried her to the bed. The broken Wendy gave in to his needs grateful for human touch and sounds. He stroked her long after she'd fallen asleep; amazed by the stark truth he was now aware of. He'd missed her, and was glad to be back in her presences. He frowned; this was not part of his plan. He looked at the woman sleeping with a contended look on her angelic face. "Little witch." He growled. She didn't awaken, she just held to him.