AN: I have nothing to say, except sorry that the updates aren't going to be as often. I can't believe it, school hasn't even started, and it's already taking over the rest of my summer...grrr...
Regardless, enjoy the reading!
Richard was pacing the deck at night again. It had been about another week since Dawson had shown up here and struck some bargain or another with Commodore Belmont, and at this point, they were floating about five miles off the coast of Savanna. He could only assume it was to meet Dawson.
Which was one of the reasons Richard was up at this time of night. If anything was going to occur, he wanted to be right there to see it all happen. He wanted to know for sure if he was being betrayed by Commodore Belmont.
Richard had been at this for about three nights now, and as before, he decided to go to bed as the Commodore blew out his own candle. As he began to descend the stairs to below deck, a sudden wave of déjà vu hit him, and he looked up to see the big white sails of the Midas approaching. Richard scurried over to a pile of ropes and barrels and crouched down, hiding. Just as expected, a plank was lowered to show Dawson strutting across dragging along…none other than Clarissa Atherton.
Richard frowned. This was who the Commodore wanted? He closed his eyes, reviewing the criteria given to Dawson the night he had left: brown hair, tall, big house on the hill…yes, it applied to Clarissa, but why not just say the governor's daughter? That would have been easier to remember…
A short scream managed to escape Clarissa, one that Dawson quickly silenced with a rough hand. Richard couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor girl; she was not used to such terrible treatment, and it must have come to be quite a shock. She was nothing like Mrs. Elizabeth Turner, who seemed to welcome adventure like an old friend, nor like Ella, who let nothing stand in her way. Richard shook his head of her; he couldn't let himself think about Ella right now.
The scream did have one affect. The Commodore appeared out of his cabin in a rush, not quite dressed, but looking ecstatic…until he saw who Dawson held. "What are you doing here?" he asked dangerously. "Why do you have the governor's daughter?"
Dawson frowned. "This is who the men supplied me with, and she fits the description. How was I to know she was the governor's daughter?" Clarissa looked at him indignantly, clearly insulted at the comment.
Commodore glared at Dawson. "I hired you to kidnap a very certain lady, not some spoiled rich brat!" Clarissa opened her mouth to correct him once again, but Dawson slapped his hand over her mouth.
"The other house on top of the hill held only a rich whore. My men did some investigation, they aren't completely helpless."
"If you had investigated further, you would have discovered she has another permanent resident, a Miss Winifred Delaney," responded the Commodore sharply.
"Then I will go correct my mistake," growled Dawson.
"There is no need for that. I will accompany you to Port Royal," said Belmont. "I can't afford for you to mess up my plans a second time." The two men glared at each other viciously, but Dawson knew he had lost this round, and dropped his gaze.
"Now, what shall we do with her?" Dawson threw Clarissa unceremoniously to the ground. The two men stared at her as she shivered, whimpering about something.
"I suppose the only choice we have is to kill her," said the Commodore. Richard stopped breathing. Did he really just suggest that? An officer of the British Navy?
Dawson, surprisingly, shook his head. "You are too crude, Commodore. Back home, who's story is going to be more believable, the heroic Commodore, or the prissy governor's daughter?"
The Commodore raised his eyebrows. "And suppose someone believes her? Then what?"
"You're a smart man," continued Dawson. "There are ways to make people be quiet without killing them. Trust me. The only thing is…you need to find the right way. I'll leave you to that." Grinning, he tipped his hat and walked across the plank.
Clarissa was shaking visibly now. "Please, Commodore, I promise not to talk. Just take me home."
Commodore Belmont snorted. "You talk too much when you have nothing to say anyway. Why should I believe you?"
"Please!" begged Clarissa. "I'll do anything!"
"I don't intend to kill you…yet," answered Belmont evilly. "Who knows what use you may prove to be in the future? Get up, stop whining, and go into my cabin. For the next two weeks, I want absolute silence from you. You will not put one toe outside of that cabin, nor attempt to yell for help, or I promise, I will kill you. Understood?"
Clarissa nodded and scurried to do as asked. Belmont swept his eyes over the deck, looking for spies or eavesdroppers no doubt, and then retired as well.
Richard crept out from behind the barrel after he was sure the Commodore was asleep. He had been mistaken at the type of man Belmont was. Once, a long time before, he had looked up to this man. Now, he was a criminal. He needed to be stopped.
However, Richard was no idiot. He could not try to rile up the sailors; they wouldn't believe a word he said unless he produced Clarissa, and no one every went into the Commodore's private cabin. No, this was a mission he must complete by himself. But how?
Richard looked out to sea before going below deck, and realized he shouldn't worry. Something would come along eventually. That was how life at sea always seemed to be.