First light. Sun was coming in through the cracks in the shutters, and out of habit Vane was immediately awake.
He turned on his side seeing Cathy, sleeping peacefully as a child, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. There were shadows, too, under her eyes that somehow did not detract from her looks. Cathy could look beautiful under circumstances that might drain the looks out of another woman.
He kissed the top of her head, and stroked her hair, tucked the locks crossing her face behind her ears. He should have been sorry that he used her so shamefully the night before, but he wasn't. He'd enjoyed every minute and he'd gladly do it again. It would not have been easy, but if she had truly wanted to, she could have stopped him. True, he would not have been agreeable, but she knew how to handle him and had proved it in the past. That's on of the things he loved about her, that tremendous will and her ability to say no to him or anyone.
"Cathy," he said softly, "I know you can hear me. That little display you put on last night wasn't necessary, but I loved seeing it. Sometimes I forget just how beautiful you are, and I've never gotten to see the Cathy you showed me. I don't have to see you like that to know how lovely you are, how lucky I am to have you. You never cease to surprise me and I never expected that of you."
He pulled the last of the pins from her hair, and kissed the glossy auburn curls, then he slide carefully out of bed and got dressed. He slipped out the door reluctantly, taking one last look at her, then carefully latched the door shut.
"I love you too, Vane," she said softly, then turned over and went back to sleep until was well past noon.
When she woke, the hands on the little porcelain clock showed that it was late morning. She picked up the key and wound it, then put her hands to her hair and realized that he had pulled out the pins. She picked up her brush and tried to untangle it, but the silky locks were stubborn and resisted her efforts to put them in a semblance of order. She pulled on a skirt and blouse and ran barefoot to the brothel, calling frantically for Max, hoping that she could obtain a bath and wash her hair.
Max must have been waiting for her. "I expected your hours ago," she said as she supervised the hot water being added to warm the bath. She turned Cathy's face gently, seeing the violet shadows under her eyes, the bruised lips. She turned her around and began to unlace her and remove her skirt, and Cathy heard her sharp intake of breath.
"What did he do to you?" She inspected the bruises between her waist and knees, the outline of a handprint showing in places.
"I know it looks bad …" Cathy began, but Max cut her off.
"What did he do to you? It not only looks bad, it is bad. What is this, Cathy?" There was more than concern on Max's face, there was anger, but Cathy was not sure at whom it was directed.
"It's not what you think, it's more like a game we play—one we play a little too well sometimes. Don't worry, I'm a willing participant, I wasn't forced. Do I understand why we do this, no." She closed her eyes, re-living the night before for just a brief moment. "I don't even remember how we started, but we, not just him, we enjoy it."
Max shook her head, "If someone wanted to do this to one of my whores, they'd pay dearly for the privilege, you watch yourself, Cathy."
"Oh, I do, and he knows the meaning of no more. If he doesn't behave himself, he doesn't get to play."
Max shook her head, clearly not convinced. When Cathy finished her bath, Max wrapped her in the bath sheet to dry, then smacked her on her bottom, as if to make a point.
"Even Vane would have the decency to not do that so soon," Cathy said mischievously.
Max threw up her hands as if to say, "I'm done with you."
Cathy finished dressing and went directly to Eleanor's. She saw her standing in front of the window, watching. Cathy stood next to her and put her arm around her.
"Watching won't make him arrive any faster, Eleanor. I want to go find him, what do you think?"
Eleanor turned around, "You might talk to Captain Hornigold and ask him what he thinks. He'll know if we should try to find him, or not. I don't know what you'll do about Charles, maybe you can talk him into helping you."
Cathy shook her head, "He seems dead set against it. He says he'll help, yet he'll do nothing. Now that he won't have a share of the Spanish treasure, he won't care. I'll try, though. Vane's said he'll help me more than once. It's time I held him to it, after all, I paid for it. I just don't want to go off on my own without telling him-yet."
Someone cleared their throat, "Excuse me," said a female voice, "I was told I could find Eleanor Guthrie here."
They turned to find the little blond captain standing in the doorway. She looked at Cathy, looked again, then her face turned white under its tan. She looked hesitant, as if she did not know if she should leave or stay, her look clearly wishing Cathy into the deepest hole in the ocean.
Eleanor stepped forward and shook her hand. "I'm Eleanor Guthrie. This is Kathy Flint, sister to James Flint of the Walrus. What can I do for you?"
"I'm Theodora Sutter, of the Virago. I'm told that you are the best agent when it comes to selling merchandise. People speak of you very highly."
Up close Theodora was lovely. Her hair was a light golden brown that stopped short of being blond. Her eyes were a light amber brown, with thick lashes and brows. "She's half Turk, if I'm not mistaken," thought Cathy, her bone structure seemed more Arab, in spite of her German or Dutch surname. The European was there, but subdued by the Moor.
"Well, I'll leave the two of you to your business, I have my own to take care of." Cathy did not add the nicety of saying it was a pleasure to meet her, both knew where they stood.
Captain Hornigold had set up an office of sorts for himself in the inn. The room was large enough to accommodate both bed and desk, and he had a veranda where he could watch the ships in port and see the comings and goings of Eleanor's customers. He had not forgiven Eleanor or Vane for forcing him out of the consortium, but it would not be hard to buy himself a position. Realistically he knew that Vane had forced this on her. He had not expected for Vane to take over the fort, or fire on ships in the harbor, but it did not surprise him.
Nor did it surprise him to see Cathy knocking at his door. A visit from Cathy could light up anyone's day. He invited her in and poured a glass of rum and one for himself.
He was old and canny enough to have developed the talent to read people's faces. He also could put on a comforting manner when he chose, so he reached over and patted her knee, and asked the question she wanted to hear.
"What can this old salt do for you, Miss Cathy?" His smile clearly said, come on, you can tell me, you know you can trust me.
Which was why she was there. "Flint has not returned, and I'm worried. I have no idea how long it took to sail to their destination, I don't know how much fighting they faced, and I don't know how they fared during the storm. I don't even know if both ships survived, or if they're lying at the bottom of the ocean. In short, I'm anxious to find out anything I can.
"They could be gathering the cargo together, or they could be stranded on the beach. I'm worried, Captain Hornigold, and I'd like to know they're all right. And I'd like to know if Flint got his Spanish gold. They may be doing fine, but they may need help. And if they need help, there is no way of getting word to us. Captain Hornigold, what can I do?"
He leaned back in his chair. "Cathy, I know what you're asking. I don't think there's any captain with a ship moored in the harbor that would be willing to help you. They have their own interests to look after. It would take time to get my ship fitted to make the voyage, if I were willing, which I am inclined not to be." He held up his hand as she started to object, "There are many inlets and places where the Spaniard would have headed to take on water. We could spend days searching before we even got close. It's best to wait for your brother to return home, I know you don't like to hear this, but it's the course of action I recommend."
She thanked him for his time, and cursed under her breath as she left his office. "Old woman, you've grown too soft. You should find a woman and raise a bunch of brats because that's all you're good for now. No wonder you're so angry at losing your precious fort, you're disinclined to do anything that requires action, you bastard."
She stomped into Eleanor's office and slammed the door behind her, saying, "God damn old men and their soft life. That bastard has a ship, he could help me. There'd be no taking on any risk, he's just too damn lazy. What if Flint and his crew are in danger, or stranded, or need help. Do they even have a ship left? "
"So what did he tell you?" Eleanor spoke cautiously, Cathy, like her brother, was prone to lash out if provoked. The Flint temper was legendary, she had once told her.
"He told me no, politely and with many excuses and rationalizations, but the ultimate answer was no. I have no idea how to do this. I grew up around ships, brigs, barks, schooner, man-o-wars, but I know nothing about anything else. So I'm left where I was before, unless my lover," she emphasized the word, "Decides that he will graciously help me, whatever his inclination. And speaking of lover, what happened with the little captain?"
"We came to an agreement. She wasn't happy with the terms, but she seems confident that she can build upon it and improve them. She can take her cargo to Port Royal for all I care, though I could use the money. By the way, she asked me about you and Charles." Eleanor's lips curled as she waited eagerly for Cathy's reaction.
"Hmmm," Cathy sat back in her chair and smiled, "I must have made quite an impression on her."
"Oh, I can assure you that you did," Eleanor rose and poured two glasses of rum. She handed one to Cathy, "She must be used to having success with men, you caught her quite off guard. She didn't expect you or what followed. I told her the truth: that you were lovers of long standing and Charles quite doted on you. I also told her that Charles would gladly kill anyone who even tried to touch you, that he was jealous of you beyond reason, which left her quite speechless. The expression on her face was delightful."
Cathy laughed, "So of course you didn't tell her about you, though you and Charles seemed to have grown more distant over time. He's still quite fond of you, he probably always will be, and I'm quite fond of you myself."
Eleanor put her arms around Cathy's waist. "And I'm rather fond of you. Now, since Captain Hornigold has turned you down, which I hoped that he wouldn't, who are we going to get to help us. Cathy, I've waited long enough for Flint, I too, worried for his safety. The Walrus has managed its share of storms, so too has the Ranger, but any ship can be destroyed, no matter how good her seamen. That storm was a ship killer, I want to find out if Flint and his men are all right. So who do you think we could turn to? Who would be willing to search the coast of Florida for us?"
"What about me?" came a voice from behind them.