Chapter Ten- Foulest rum
When I next gained consciousness, it was in James' arms once more. He was sat against the bed rest, staring at the opposite wall unseeingly. Scattered around the bed were…boxes?
"Why are there boxes?" I blurted, despite not wanting him to know I was awake. He jumped a little, then looked down at me. His eyes stank with deceit.
"Spring cleaning," he tried, voice hoarse.
I took in my surroundings in greater detail this time. I saw much of the furniture was gone. A patch of clumpy dust sat where the wardrobe had once been, and a dark stain where the wallpaper hadn't been bleached by sunlight now took the mirror's place.
"What's happening?" I whispered, frozen. James cleared his throat subconsciously.
"We, ah…Elizabeth…" he twisted my fingers into his, my hand drowned beneath his own. "Elizabeth, I…I love you. And- and you know that means I want the best for you, so-" he caught himself, squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a moment.
"Please tell me," I said in a small voice.
"So, I spoke with the physician, and he thought it best, considering your condition, to…." again he stopped, not knowing how to proceed. A sudden gust blew the bedroom window open, rippling the linen white curtains. It was a fresh sort of air, the kind after it had been raining.
James reached over to the bedside table. On it was a tray, the poppy patterned one that Maria served our tea on.
But no tea stood on it now.
Instead there was a pair of tall, thin bottles, each one with corners that were too angular, too sharp. I could not see the contents; the glass had a very deep, almost black copper hue to it. I peered closer. Yes, past the black was a garish, bloody undertone. It swam viscously as James picked one up. Instinctively, I tried to lean away. But James kept an unusually firm grip on me.
"The physician left it. Medicine," he coughed shortly.
"I don't-" I stammered, as he unscrewed the lid.
"We're leaving, Elizabeth. This time next week we will be in London. Mr Arnolds says it will help your condition."
"N-no," I whispered, not understanding. "We can't-"
"There are specialist doctors there, my love. They can help you get better." Already he had the lid off. The smell that immediately emanated was acidicly rancid; overpowering to the point that my head began to swim.
"But Will! We can't go, we m-mustn't!" I could feel my eyes welling up in fear.
"You won't see him again," James murmured, not meeting my eye. He took a teaspoon from the tray. His tight hold on my waist was relentless, and he poured out some of the bottle's foul liquid. As I had guessed, it was a deep shade of red. I felt woozy at the smell…it was familiar…and then I realised.
A sedative.
Like the one the physician had stabbed me with last night.
Immediately, I began to struggle. Struggle for all I was worth; every last ounce of strength I had left in my body. James was caught by surprise, but fifteen years of navy training meant he soon had the situation in hand. His face, to hide the pain it caused him, was concealed beneath an emotionless mask.
I kicked.
I pinched, I clawed, I pulled.
"Elizabeth-" he gasped, as I wielded a particularly nasty dig into his abdomen. "It's for the best-"
I shook my head violently, keeping my mouth firmly shut. A jerk of my knee managed to knock the spoon's contents flying.
In the second that I looked at it in surprise, I let my defences slip. James pressed me onto my back, pinning my arms. It was a move he used countless times with pirates. I was completely paralysed.
"No-" I gasped. James was already refilling the spoon. "James, please-" but I quickly had to jam my mouth shut. I hoped the tears of terror seeping from my eyes were enough.
"I just want you to be better again," he said softly. He was crying too. "I love you. Heaven knows only how much."
He pushed the spoon against my lips and covered my nose with his hand, cutting off breath. My lungs writhed in agony as I fought pointlessly against my pinned arms.
I couldn't help it. I gasped, and he was quick to pour the liquid down my throat. He allowed me to sit up, and I doubled over, coughing and spitting onto the pillow. But it was too late. I screamed out a sob as my vision clouded blackly at the edges. I was too weak to even fight off his lingering kisses.
My hearing was last to go.
"Forgive me, God forgive me. Sleep…sleep my beautiful angel…"