Chapter 37: Dancing for a Prince
(PART TWO)
During a time when I needed common sense and a functioning brain the most, I did not possess either. Instead of logic and the organ that housed it, I had stupidity and an empty cavern full of hot air in my skull. The reason why I was left wanting of those two critical necessities was because I had ventured out into town—alone, without Roland, who was the personified version of both my common sense and brain. And I found myself stuck not only in a very nasty dilemma, but I was also going to be late preparing for our grand deception that night. The maharaja's son had finally arrived, and our merited invitation to discuss the marriage between him and the Arab princess had to be fulfilled, certain measures having to be taken in order for the plan to fall through. My own part in the act was rather crucial, yet I risked ruining it all because I could not take my brother's advice and focus on our mission.
Adam had to come first.
I sat rigidly in my chair, my eyes twitching under the hot sunlight bathing the veranda of the Murrays' exquisite home. Kenneth and his darling sister sat across the table from me, his face red and his sister fanning herself delicately in the fuggy heat. The air was thick with the smell of jungle vegetation and rain. All I had on me was the English dress I had secretly bought, with short puffy sleeves and a relative looseness and lightness to it that I was amazed to feel. Though I still had to wear a corset, I had no difficulty breathing. However, I would as soon as the most important guest of our little tea party arrived.
Kenneth leaned forward and, smiling at me in his wonderment, asked if I would like more tea.
"No, thank you, Kenny," I chimed, trying to remain relaxed.
I had run across Lieutenant Kenneth Murray at exactly the spot Roland had last described him in. He was on patrol along the docks, accompanied by two marines who were under his temporary command. Upon seeing me his jaw unhooked and became limp as he gawked openly at my sight, his grey eyes glittering with glee as he met me with a tight embrace. I remained in his arms far longer than I had anticipated, which got his marines to think certain things about the girl who was in his clutch. I gave Murray's firm shoulders a little squeeze as I, in my feigned elation, held his face in my hands. He certainly had grown into a fine man, and for a quick instant, I had to remind myself why I was looking for him in the first place.
The questions of "how are you?", "where in the blazes have you been?", and the like were all answered simply with my, "I only have a limited time, Murray." And at that, he swiftly suggested that I have tea with him and his sister.
"Adam always joins us for tea," he added, making my heart both rise and sink simultaneously. "He'll be delighted to see you. My God, I am delighted to see you! I almost didn't recognize you. What happened to your face?"
And so I proceeded to tell him the little tales behind the scars that nicked my skin as we made way to his home, and he would relate his own stories at sea to me in return. When we reached his home, his sister greeted us with mixed expressions on her face. With her brother, she was welcoming; to me, she was unprepared. Her grey eyes were wide and unblinking as we exchanged curtsies, and she almost could not utter my name.
From then on it was just idle chat and biscuits and tea until Adam arrived.
"You said you were kidnapped by pirates, Miss Turner?" questioned Kenneth as he poured himself another cup.
I frowned visibly. I may have told Kenny about my sea voyages, but I hadn't touched on my adventures with Jack or Anne. He noticed my disgruntlement and smiled.
"Apologies. Your midshipman—well, actually he's a lieutenant now—from the Resolve said that you were taken by pirates." Without thinking, I readily answered:
"Well, I did it to save our bloody ship…" I paused, my voice trailing as I came to realize a very important fact that I had overlooked in Kenneth's comment. He had said "your midshipman."
My heart stopped and I choked on my own spit, gripping the edge of the table with a sweaty palm as the words bounced against my ears. Your midshipman from the Resolve. Bloody, bloody hell.
"You m-must mean M-Mr. B-Bennett?" I quaked, grabbing my napkin and twisting it with my fingers. Oh, dear Lord.
"Yes," replied Kenneth, not heeding my apprehension. "He stayed with us a good few weeks after the Battle of the Nile."
"A very charming gentleman," enclosed Meredith, smirking thinly behind her tea cup. "The lad loved to talk about you."
"Really?" was all I could manage to say, still abusing the napkin in my hands to no end as I twitched and flinched within the boundaries of my sticky, perspiring skin.
Kenneth replied, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. My mind had drifted as I analyzed the situation. I had come to the Murray residence with every intent of confronting Adam, and now there was no doubt that I could never perform the task. If Murray had met Bennett, then Adam had also, and there'd be no debate over his discovering that I loved Bennett; and I knew what would result from my lieutenant gaining such insight. Adam had caught me being unfaithful once and his reaction to that one instance was unbearable. I was not prepared to face it again.
Meredith suddenly perked up as she heard the front doors shut, and I was jolted out of my musings as well.
"Ah, he must be here. He's always a bit late. The admiral up at Lord Pemberton's always keeps him too long," she complained.
I stood up immediately and tossed my napkin on the table.
"Where are you going?" asked Kenneth, confused. "You can't leave now. He's only just arrived!" I looked at him, hating the sadness already present in his eyes. Oh, dear God, please do not look at me that way.
"I… I'm not leaving, Kenny," I replied, trying to remain cheerful. "I just want to pay a visit to the head—I mean, privy—to spruce up a little. I must look a wreck, don't I?" I fiddled with my hair and pulled on my dress.
Kenneth reassured me that I looked fine, but I demanded directions and release to the privy, and the lad, after a few trials, gave in to my whines. I locked myself in the room, desperately trying to collect my waning breath as I leaned against the door frame. Come on, Astrid. You must get out of here.
I managed to calm myself after a good half hour, and I smoothed out the skirt of my dress before unlocking the door, and as soon as I turned the knob, I heard him, out of all people, say, "Astrid!" and I shut the door and locked it so quickly that I couldn't even see my hands complete the task. Adam had been leaning on the privy door the entire time! I had shut it in time for him to avoid seeing my face because I didn't see his, and my heart had leapt up into my throat while Indian butterflies beat their pulsing wings sporadically in my gut.
I scanned my options for escape in the privy—there were none. There was no window to scramble out of or another door to go through. I was stuck in the bathroom for the rest of eternity.
Unless…
Deciding to risk my pride, I went over to the privy door and knocked on it.
"Are you still there?" I asked through the wooden barrier separating me from my lieutenant.
"Yes." There was a pause. "My God, it's really you! I feel like I haven't heard your voice in ages!"
As soon as he spoke, my heart pined for him, and I pressed my face into the door, imagining myself burrowing my face into his chest just as I had done so long ago. I shook my head.
"Could you please get Kenneth for me?"
Another pause.
"Why?"
"He has my reticule and I need its contents if I am to meet an effeminate need of mine right now." I could picture him blushing at my request.
"Very well. I shall inform him." He never issued a proper farewell, and so I assumed he was still there, and I was right. Moments later, he added: "Astrid, I have to talk to you. Please, don't do anything stupid and try to elude me. I won't…" I stopped listening. I couldn't bear to hear him make such a plea especially because I had already made up my mind not to see him, and it tore me apart, it did. I stood against the door, trembling from the ache of not being able to hold him, my hand gripping the doorknob tightly and wanting to tear down the barrier between us so that I could finally have some peace.
Shortly after, I heard Murray tap on the door. "What is it, Astrid? What do you need?" And I opened the door and grabbed him by the collar, hauling him into the room before slamming the door back shut.
He stared at me bewildered, most likely wondering why the hell I had been so aggressive with him.
"You need to help me get out of here without seeing Adam," I begged, coming up to him and tugging on his naval jacket. "Please, Murray. I need you to help me."
"But… But he… you… you can't keep running away from him, Astrid!" he countered, unhooking my fingers from his jacket and holding my hands in his. "Just talk to him. He'll listen."
"No!" I screamed, ripping my hands out of his grasp and accidentally beating him on the chest. "I can't, Kenneth. I can't. Just the thought of it makes me so sick that I… I…"
He must have noticed me faltering and he grabbed my arms and shook me a bit.
"Astrid, he's not going to be angry with you. I promise. He's delighted to even know you're here! Why would he be angry?"
"Because of… Bennett… and, well… he's… he's not the only one." I pushed Kenneth away from me. "Oh! You just don't understand, do you? I can't meet Adam, Kenny. I can't. I can't! I won't!"
"Calm down, Astrid," he said, attempting to tame me by holding me in his arms. "I'll let you go this time, but you have to promise me that you'll talk to him. If you can merit it, he'll be at Lord Pemberton's tonight, attending an important gathering for the maharaja and Admiral Mardling. An engagement is going to be announced between an Arab princess and the maharaja's son. He's likely not to have anything to do because Mardling busies him with stupid orders, so he'll have every opportunity to listen to what you have to say." He looked at the door of the privy. "Adam will be wondering what's taking so long. I'll tell him you'll be out shortly and you exit and make a run for the bedroom at the end of the hall. There's a window you can climb out of there."
I nodded, wiping the water from my eyes and acknowledging the tears that had splashed onto his uniform with a timid smile.
"Remember your promise to me, Astrid," he reminded, letting me go.
"Thank you, Kenny. I'll make it up to you somehow." He smiled and headed for the door, and as soon as he exited, I fled from the privy and sprinted down the hall, reaching the bedroom in time and opening the window. It was a short drop to the ground and I landed on the grass easily enough before speeding down to the street, where I happened to run into Roland, Sefu and Tom.
My Irishman took one look at me in my wispy English dress and scooped me up in his arms before bellowing:
"Where the hell have you been! You've been driving Jack crazy with your absence!"
"I'll explain it on the way." And before Tom could utter another word, I hooked arms with Roland and flooded his ears with all of my worries.
"A certain someone is going to be at the dinner tonight," I told him. "We need to be on our guard."
"I could've seen that coming," he replied, smirking. "This is going to be a very interesting night, sister."
Cord and I were putting on the finishing touches to both of our costumes. We were stuck in Jack's cabin on the Pearl, asking each other if we looked all right, which might have been an interesting scene to witness—a girl of eighteen (I think) asking a girl of ten whether or not she looked her part. And after a few more strokes of the kohl stick around our eyes, Cord and I were ready as we ever would be.
"Bien," beamed Cord, adding her jeweled veil over her pretty face. "You may come in now!" she yelled to the cabin doors, and after a brief pause, the doors hesitantly gave way with a soft creak, and Hernán and Guerra stood on the other side, their Spanish eyes enlarged at our sights.
But after their amazement ebbed, their faces pinched in pensive frowns, and while Guerra stroked his mustache, Hernán took a step forward, meant to reach out to Cord, and then drew back.
"Qué?" questioned Delia. "What's wrong?"
"I don't know how we're going to get you off the boat," said Guerra. "I'm afraid to touch you both." Cordelia humphed under her veil and placed her hands on her hips.
"I know our garments are lavish, heavy and decorated with many golden artifacts, but you need to carry Astrid and me off this ship. You're supposed to treat us like royalty."
"As if we don't already," Guerra grumbled under his breath as he motioned for Hernán to go through with the plan. He'd have to carry Cord because of his healing leg, and I'd be left to Guerra's arms, which were surprisingly toned.
"Don't get too cozy with her, Guerra," I heard Tom threaten as we were brought down into the little rowboats that would carry us to land. He only received the Spaniard's happy laughter and I elbowed Guerra slightly in the ribs, grinning beneath my veil.
Upon reaching land, we found Jack and, shockingly, a very large congregation of people—natives, that is—waiting on the beach for us, a gaudy palanquin festooned with flowers and golden ornaments ready to take us all the way to Lord Pemberton's home.
"What the hell are all these people for, Jack?" I asked as Hernán placed Cord in the litter first.
"Mon Dieu!" cried Cord from inside the palanquin. "Look at these cushions, Astrid!" I peered through the gossamer curtains of the thing and saw Cord flouncing about in the opulence.
"And how the hell did ye get yer hands on such fanciful stuff?" I added, keeping Guerra from dumping me onto the litter. I wanted my questions answered first.
Captain Sparrow only smiled and gestured for me to get into the palanquin with Cord, which Guerra promptly completed. "You two sit in there and once we get moving, you'll understand why." And then the curtain fell, cutting Cord and me from the outside world. We exchanged glances before looking at the bright satin cushions and silky sheets around us before screaming with delight and engaging in a small little pillow fight.
The crowd hired to walk with us steadily grew in number as we made way towards our destination, and by the time we actually arrived at Pemberton's home, the mass of people with us had to be kept at bay by some of the soldiers who patrolled the area. Jack certainly knew how to make a grand appearance.
The maharaja and his son were waiting for us at the footstep of the house, a series of naval officers and Lord Pemberton by their sides. Our arrivals were announced and Cord was the first to exit, a loud and jarring cheer rising up from the mouths of our followers, I came out soon after and stood beside Cord, both of our heads bowed before our hosts.
"Welcome," greeted the Indian prince. He brought over his adolescent son to introduce, and he exchanged mild looks with Cord before acknowledging me with a slight nod. Delia and I bowed with our hands together, fingertips pointing up and said not a word in reply. Jack, who was acting as our "ambassador" came forward in gaudy blue and red silken robes, a matching turban placed atop his unruly hair.
"Princess Fatima and her attendants have taken a vow of silence in response to the raids against her father's sultanate. They will only speak when the bloodshed has ended."
"Well, then I suppose we'd better get on to making marriage arrangements, eh?" voiced Mardling, sending me a wink and crushing any hope I had of him forgetting about me. "Your Highness," he began, gesturing for the maharaja and his son to go back inside with Cord and I following after them. Afterwards, the rest of our supposed "attendants" entered, which consisted of our "guards" (Tom, Roland, Sefu and Guerra), and our accompanying "advisors" (Jack, Gibbs, Baudin, and Hernán). The rest of the crew remained at specific stations along the city and on our ships, prepared to execute emergency procedures should our plan go horribly awry.
There was some conversational mingling to take place in the courtyard again before dinner was announced, but Cord and I, and the rest of our party had to remain silent, except for our "advisors" who were given permission to speak.
I glanced among the officers present for the event and could not find Adam anywhere. However, there was Admiral Mardling, and his fleeting looks in my direction were frequent and growing more intense by the second. Good Lord, what a rake.
"That cove keeps lookin' at ye," Tom murmured from behind me agitatedly. I smiled behind my mask of cloth. "If he looks at ye one more time, I swear I'll—"
"You're supposed to be mute," came Roland's low growl. "If anyone hears you speaking, we're done for." My protective Irishman shut up at that but gave my arm a slight pinch to remind me to behave, and after silently giggling to myself at Tom's blatant jealousy, Adam entered the congregation and immediately sought out Admiral Mardling, hardly greeting anyone who honored him with a 'hello.' He hadn't changed. He was still devoted to his duty.
"Ah, did you make all the arrangements, Lieutenant?" asked Mardling as soon as Adam approached.
"Aye, sir," he answered tonelessly. "Anything else you'd like me to do?" he added, heavily impatient.
"Yes, I'd like for you to pour me two glasses of sherry," commanded Mardling. "And bring one of the glasses to…" His voice trailed and he whispered the rest of his order to Adam, who unexpectedly looked in my direction and almost made me yelp. Adam looked away and sent his stormy blue eyes on Mardling, who deflected such a petty act of defiance with a satisfied grin. "Well, get on it, boy. I don't have all day."
Adam bristled but went to complete the order, obligated to serve his superior officer. He came towards Cord and me, the frown on his face a clear indication of how much he loathed being where he was. He offered the glass to me and said, dully:
"Admiral Mardling sends his greetings and he'd be honored if you sat next to him during the evening meal." He handed me the glass of sherry which I stared at dumbly. He said nothing more and just stood there, as if waiting for a reaction from me; and then as if he suddenly realized something, Adam groaned and corrected himself.
"Apologies. He told me you're not allowed to speak. Will you allow me to take you to him?"
He offered me his arm and I had difficulty restraining myself. I latched onto him before he expected it, and although I had my arm circled around his, I decided to take a calculated risk and hold his hand briefly. I felt him flinch when my fingers glided down his palm, intertwining with his own, and he turned his head to look at me, his eyes brightly amazed and puzzled. I smiled at him widely beneath my veil, daring to make use of such freedom because of the protective yashmak that covered my face.
His mouth worked to utter a reply, his calloused hand responding to mine and holding it tightly, his thumb beginning to caress my skin as he tried to remind his sense of touch of the identity of the lady who was in his company. But he only gawked at me wordlessly before noting Mardling's distant, but demanding presence. He looked back at me and let go of my hand, seeming a bit shaken afterwards.
"He's the man in the flashy uniform," he said at last, pointing Mardling out of the crowd. "After dinner, if he asks you to meet him somewhere, say yes to him. He plans on you coming to him on your own will, and that gives you liberty. Instead of going to his chambers, make as if you are going to the prince's." And then he stepped aside, bowed to me and then departed, leaving me open to Mardling's booming welcome and his subsequent slobbery kiss on the back of my hand.
Dinner commenced smoothly, with Cord and the maharaja's son interacting silently, but promisingly, at the center of the low banquet table, both of them kneeling on the satin cushions supporting their bottoms as they exchanged silly glances and shyly made attempts at concealed physical interaction. Mardling made no attempt to hide his prurient nature, his hand laying possessively on my thigh and occasionally moving dangerously upward during the meal. Eating proved to be a tricky task because of the cloth covering the lower half of my face, and I had to delicately insert my food into my mouth under my veil, and Mardling had tried more than once to remove my yashmak from my face.
"Damn," he muttered after I succeeded in preserving my secret identity. His hand withdrew, defeated, from the circumference of my head. "No matter. I'll see your pretty face soon."
Adam was not allowed to dine with us, at Mardling's order. The maharaja had even prepared a seat for him, but Mardling had declined Adam's invitation. "He won't mind," was the admiral's sorry excuse.
As Adam had predicted, as dinner came to a close, the admiral requested for me to meet him in his chambers later that evening, giving me clear directions and a definite time to join him in his slumber.
"If you want payment, I'll give it to you," he offered, believing that it would make what he was asking of me to be more appealing. Of course, I could say nothing, but he needed to be distracted. He was the head of the main authority guarding the house and if he wasn't there to give orders when orders needed to be given, then we'd have no opposition if we somehow got caught.
I nodded at his proposal before returning to the side of our "Arab Princess Fatima" who needed her maid to help her get ready for the night.
We traveled to our guest chambers as a group, Cord and I surrounded by our attendees, and once we reached Cord's room, we all entered, locked the door and hurriedly went over our procedures again.
As usual, I voiced my disagreements against the role I had to play, but the issue, obviously, was not important enough to be settled.
My complaint was the last to be uttered and we all went our separate ways, Cord to visit the maharaja's son, me to go to the admiral, and the rest of them on alert. I remembered Adam's advice and made way to the prince's chambers with Cordelia, but when we got there, the prince was not present.
"I'll look for him," said Cord. "You should stay here should he come." I agreed and she hurried off, and I waited in front of the prince's chamber doors, counting the seconds in my head before I had to meet Admiral Mardling in his dreaded quarters.
The hall the prince's lodgings were in was large, and his bed chamber wasn't the only one lining the corridor. No one was present, and so I found it safe to open some of the other doors to see if he or one of his servants was in one of them. My search concluded with empty results, and I returned to my spot at the front of the hall, surprised to find that Adam was waiting for me, his hat tucked neatly under his arm.
My feet immediately became rooted to the ground and I refused to take a step further, leaving a good six feet between me and my lovely lieutenant. His gaze hadn't lifted from my face, and what made it worse was that I could not read the look on his countenance. Not a drop of any emotion was present on his visage, and I was left standing dumbly in place, silently stammering behind my veil.
"What are you doing?" he asked me, his voice monotone. I would have answered, but his manner of speaking did not exactly portray itself as welcoming, and I decided to hold my tongue until he gave me a full invitation to respond.
However, he interpreted my silence differently, and he coughed awkwardly, his fingers beginning to drum the rim of his hat.
"Apologies. I forgot that you couldn't speak." He lifted his chin a little, straightening his stature as if he was trying to impress me, and he came forward without warning, making my knees quake and my heart pound mercilessly between my heaving lungs.
In my state of near panic, he bent his head, reached for my hand and kissed it, almost in a mechanical approach, and I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from bursting out in laughter at his formality.
"Mardling expects you in an estimated hour or so," he said softly, still clinging to my hand. "That gives me enough time to speak to you, if you are willing to speak to me in return."
I nodded countless times before he led me into an empty room and shut the door, and somehow knowing that seclusion would prompt me to release my voice, he stood against the door panel, waiting for me to say something; only, I didn't know where to begin.
"K-Kenneth said that—"
"I know what Murray said," he interrupted, seemingly impatient, but nonetheless pleased to hear my talking. But he still kept a large gap between us that drove me crazy. I didn't understand why he was distancing himself from me.
"You're angry with me, aren't you?" I questioned, feeling that that was the matter at hand because if I knew anything about Adam, I knew that he hardly cut anyone's speech short.
He relaxed considerably and came near again, tossing his hat carelessly onto the ground and coming up to me. "I wouldn't say that," he answered, refusing to elaborate. "Why would I be angry? I only expected you to come back yesterday only to have to order Kenneth to tell me why he had allowed you to go. I only had to wait—again—as if I haven't waited nearly two years for a word from you, and now here you are, in disguise. You couldn't even come to me as yourself." His sarcasm was biting. "No, no, Miss. I'm not angry at all."
My tongue was frozen, prohibiting me from giving any adequate response. How could I? His anger was justified, and I had nothing to say in my defense.
"What shall I see next?" he continued, visibly frustrated. "I've seen you as what? A child? A lady? A sailor? A midshipman? And now what are you? An Arab? Who are you?"
I looked down, feebly reaching up to remove my veil, but he drew rather close and laid his hands on my own, peeling the cloth away from my face. "Who are you?" he repeated, releasing my fingers from his grip and letting his hands gently take hold of my face. He was so close. So close. I swallowed hard to keep myself from latching onto him and weeping a heap of apologies.
My voice cracked as the achy sobs rose up throat.
"I'm Astrid," I told him, already crying pitifully.
"Truly?" he replied, chuckling lightly as he rubbed the tears off of my face. "It's odd, because the woman I love is named Astrid." I managed a smile at his jest. "Could you possibly be her? She has blue eyes and brown curly hair and a dazzling smile. But now she has a few scars on her pretty face, but I still love her. God, do I love her. If she were here right in front of me, I'd kiss her so passionately that she wouldn't have the opportunity to breathe."
I sputtered out a laugh while pinching his face. Silly boy.
"Then kiss me, dammit," I ordered, already looking at his mouth.
"I don't know…" he replied skeptically. "Astrid would never say something like tha—"
He was instantly cut off as I pressed my lips against his own, our mouths parting as soon as we recognized each other; and it was only when I was in his arms again did I realize how much I had truly missed him.
"It's a good thing you closed the door," I exhaled as I broke our kiss. I became a firm believer that Adam was a man of his word for his kiss had, indeed, left me entirely breathless.
He only laughed and closed the distance between our faces again, but his refusal to reply to my observation moved more questions to pop from my lips before he could kiss them again.
"Wait a minute, love," I said, pushing him back a bit. Easy there, Adam. "Whose room is this? Is it yours?" He only smiled cheekily and I pinched his chin with my fingers. "Did you plan all of this the moment you realized it was me under this veil?" I demanded.
"Possibly," he answered, electing to remain mysterious in his methods and coming for my mouth again. I recoiled for a bit longer, which issued a soft but still noticeable growl to vibrate in Adam's throat.
"That quickly?" I asked, knowing that I was pushing his nerves.
My inquisitions did exactly what I wanted them to, and Adam, aggravated with my persistence, lifted me up and set me on his bed, his body hovering but a few inches over mine. "I've been taught to be a master tactician, Astrid," he stated. "Does that give you enough information to know my answer?"
"Yes," I smiled, tugging on his collar.
It was all fun and games after that, and I was fine with it all until Adam slipped his hand under my skirt, causing me to give an unanticipated shriek. Only, before I could scold him for being such a naughty boy, he looked at me and asked, with utmost surprise:
"Are you wearing undergarments, Astrid?"
I bit my lip and sat up, but Adam's hand was still on my naked knee.
"O-Of course I am," I lied. I hadn't forgotten what Roland and Hernán observed the other day when they noticed my bare ankles.
He chuckled and slid his hand up further, and I gasped at his boldness. I was about ready to slap him for it, too.
"No, you're not," he chortled. "If you were, your knee wouldn't be bare… and neither would your thigh," he added wryly.
"You… you…" I tried to find a fitting word to relate his rakish manners to, but failed to locate any. "You stop that, now," was all I could manage, weakly, I must admit, but my dear lieutenant was enough of a gentleman to grant my request, and he took his hand off my leg… only to bend over and kiss my shin before re-covering my lower limbs.
I gave him a small kick for the indecency, and he replied with a laugh which I did not appreciate; and so I jabbed him again with my foot, and the sly and quick rascal grabbed my ankle without warning. I shrieked at the abrupt impulse and he only laughed all the harder, refusing to let go of my leg as I tried to wrench it free. Release was finally given after he had teased me some more, and I attacked him with soft, loving punches, winding up sitting on his lap and rubbing noses together after a few more additional antics.
We had only vaulted back into more heated interaction when the door to Adam's room had suddenly burst open and there "Princess" Fatima stood, her face unveiled, her eyes magnified, and her face turning a deep shade of scarlet.
"Ma soeur?" she gasped, doubting in her little head that the lady involved in the witnessed amorous embrace was indeed her half-sister.
Adam and I, both startled and tremendously embarrassed, separated without delay, and he played the gentleman and carefully covered my shins with my skirt, for he had (yet again) slid his hand beneath my dress. There was a short expanse of awkward silence before Adam suddenly became enlivened and he turned to me, and said:
"Did she just speak French?"
"It's…" I looked to the ceiling for answers. "It's the language we use to speak to each other. It allows us to keep some confidentiality."
Adam furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes narrowing in on my innocent gaze. If I knew anything, I knew that he didn't believe my lies for a second. Yet, what astonished me was that he said nothing about it, and he simply got up from the bed and put his fine blue jacket back on, buttoning it up and pulling on the cuffs.
"I'll leave you two sisters alone," he said directly, sending me a look that was nothing but suspicious.
"Adam, wait," I implored, pursuing him. I fastened my arms around him again, tilting my head up towards his face as I fluttered my eyelids pleadingly at him.
My pity-me scheme worked to some effect, making my lieutenant smile briefly as he tapped my nose with a finger.
"I'll see you again soon, Astrid," he told me, his voice sounding so sure. Our parting of ways was certainly far different from the first time we had to separate from each other back in Port Royal. "Mardling's expecting you. You wouldn't want to be late."
"But—"
It was Adam that time who pulled a spontaneity, and he kissed me without warning, exiting the room shortly after, almost exactly attired as he was when he entered the room with me. The minute difference was that he had forgotten his hat, and upon his very swift and, lamentably, brusque departure, I turned to Cordelia, my eyes burning and demanding a reason for her intrusion. I had only one moment to be with Adam and there it ended at her off the cuff entrance.
"The maharaja's son is waiting for me," she squeaked apologetically, the sniffles already spurting out of her nose. She began to sway on the soles of her feet, and I rolled my eyes and let out a moan.
Fine. I forgive you.
"I suppose you'll find out where Jack's treasure is, and I have to be with Mardling so that you can do it, aye?"
"Oui," she agreed meekly. I nodded several times, readying myself for my ultimate doom, but I was also doing it to get my mind off of Adam. It wasn't like him to be the aloof character and leave so abruptly. Either he was angry or bothered (or both) or he knew something that I didn't know. But what could he possibly know when I hadn't told him anything? And he couldn't have been steamed about an innocent girl barging in on our most intimate of moments… unless he knew that it would be his last chance to be with me.
I shook my head and let out a perturbed breath, letting my mind focus on my mission. After replacing the veil over my face, I walked over to Cord, took her hand and looked down at her.
"Are you ready, sister?" I asked, needing her encouragement and steady nerves.
"Oui, ma soeur. Allons-y!"
"It's about time you arrived!" boomed Mardling when he opened his bedroom door to find me standing on the other side, displaying my frail and feminine mien behind my silken, billowy robes. "What hindered you? We could have started so much sooner. I have to be on watch, you know."
Oh, I know, Admiral Libertine. I know.
I let him lead me into his lavish chambers, and he never kept himself more than a foot away from me. As soon as I entered that room, he adhered to my body like sweat. The first thing he did was reach out to snatch away my yashmak, and with a twinkle in my smiling eyes, I turned my head just in time to avoid his clutch, and after calling me a "shrewd, tantalizing vixen" he rammed me against a wall and slid his hand below my thigh, hauling my leg up so that he could get into a more comfortable position standing up.
I circled his leg with mine and tightened the grip, pushing him into me, and excited by my sense of urgency, he once again tried to take away the cloth covering my face. I turned my head to the side, and he muttered a curse under his breath. I knew I was pushing his patience with my teases, but it was all to buy time. If his only aim at that moment was to see my face, then whatever he wanted to do down below wouldn't come until later. Though, judging by what I felt, later would arrive much sooner than I expected whether he saw my face or not.
"Just a peek," he exhaled, his fingers extending towards my mask. "I just want a little peek." I taunted him further with a smile under my veil, and he repaid my cheekiness by shooting his hand very far up my inner thigh.
Christ!
I decided to be more careful, and I managed to pry him off me despite his advances, and found a more controllable spot on the admiral's bed, sitting cross-legged on the smooth sheets while beckoning him with a finger. He pounced on me without hesitation.
So much for being careful, Astrid, you idiot.
In whatever time he allowed me, I tried to estimate how much time had already elapsed. Jack had warned Cord and I that it would take approximately fifteen minutes to steal the diamond and begin an escape, which meant that I had fifteen minutes to distract Mardling. I judged that only about five had passed so far, which was not good. Mardling was moving fast.
However, it seemed that if I didn't allow the admiral to see my face, the only way he'd content himself would be to violate me further down below instead of choking me with kisses. The latter option obviously seemed the safer, and I did not turn away the next time he tried to take off my veil.
"Finally!" he cheered, flinging the stupid cloth away. Only, upon seeing my face, he backed up a little, his countenance awash with awe.
"My God!" he bellowed. "You're more beautiful than I thought! Who would have thought that an Arab girl would end up being so pretty!"
He bent low to plant a kiss on my tightly closed lips, but I spoke before he reached them. Perhaps more shocking discoveries would stun him long enough to keep me from playing the whore.
"I'm sure you were expecting an authentic Arabian maid, but alas, I'm not at all what you wanted."
My accent kept him submerged in unblinking silence, and I curled my lips into a toothy smile at his wonderment.
"Wot?" I teased. "Do ye not like English dames?"
"English?" he echoed, almost disgusted. "What the hell is a lass like you doin' in Arab attire?"
I tittered and picked at the buttons on his uniform.
"Well… 'tis a long story, dearie," I chimed. "Would ye like to hear it? Or would ye rather continue what ye were plannin' to do?" I looked south to remind him of what he originally had in mind, but Mardling didn't budge. Nor was he amused with my coquettish schemes.
"English?" he still scowled, trapped in his disbelief. "I can't bed you! You're probably some poxed harlot reduced to hiding behind foreign clothing to trick men like me!"
Well, aren't you the egoist.
"Possibly," I said, refusing to clarify whether his assumption was correct or not. The element of mystery was a wonderful tool to work with. "Then again, I possibly could not. Are you willing to take the risk, Admiral?"
I pulled his chin towards my mouth.
Just five more minutes. Five.
His mouth was close. I could feel his breath bounce off my parted mouth, warm and moist. He was coming down for the kill, and then…
BANG!
The knobs on his locked door were shot away and in burst Lieutenant Adam Locke, pistol and sword in hand and a smile on his face.
"DAMMIT, LOCKE!" Mardling burst, his opportune moment once again ruined by his inferior. "Can't you see I'm busy!"
"Yes," Adam retorted. "Busy being distracted from your duties! The palace is being raided and you're here bedding some lass, you selfish git!"
I sat dumb in my place on the bed, still beneath Mardling's body and fully vulnerable. Only now I was finally comprehending why Adam had let me go so easily. The clever little knave figured everything out the moment Cord interrupted our embrace and spoke her French words. He knew when something was suspicious, and he always had be right.
Damn him.
I took one glance at Adam and made up my mind. He had his orders and I had mine, and I was not about to let Mardling loose into the fray only to get my father arrested and hanged. Being sure to flick a glare at Adam under my eyelids, I grabbed Mardling's face and kissed him full on the mouth, which only provoked Adam to scream all the harder.
"Sir!" he cried. "The palace is under raid! Damn you! Sir!"
But I had Mardling in a genuine, certified Astrid Sparrow embrace, and there was no way he'd be able to return to his normal doings afterwards. Oh, no. And Adam knew that very well. Oh, yes, he did.
Arrogance, however, was not the best trait to possess at that time, for Mardling broke the kiss sooner than I had hoped and, pleased, smiled at me.
"We'll finish this later," he whispered before leaping out of bed and heading for the door.
Oh, dammit!
I flew after him despite Adam and his supreme dedication to the navy. Neither of you are going to leave this room until I receive the signal for me to leave, damn you!
"Don't leave, please! You can't leave me alone in here! What if the pirates come and get me?" I wailed, pretending to feel a swoon coming on.
Mardling looked uneasily at Adam while I peeked from under a shut eyelid. Adam was not falling for it. Of course, he wouldn't.
"She'll be safe. Don't worry about her. Your main concern is the protection of the maharaja and his possessions, and both are under attack at this instant!" Adam reasoned.
"Oh, oh, oh!" I wept. "How cruel can you be, good lieutenant? To leave me all alone in this room? If I'm found, the pirates'll know that I'd make a good profit, selling me off to be the slave of some rich, fat sultan! Oh, I can't be treated as such! Please, sir, have mercy!"
I fell to my knees and begged at Adam's feet, pawing at his white britches and gradually standing up as my hands gripped his fine, strong arms.
The boy was flabbergasted, gawking at me and likely wondering why the hell I was playing such a cheap act. Mardling answered for us both as we stared into each other's eyes.
"Just stay with the tramp!"
"N-No!" Adam protested, wrenching himself from me and following after Mardling. "It's a trap, can't you see it?"
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" blew off Mardling, chuckling afterwards. "I've had years of experience, boy, and I know a scam when I see one. I've pulled a couple myself."
"But, sir!"
"You stay here, Locke. And that's an order!" The Admiral strutted out of his room then, muttering something about how whiny new officers were those days. As soon as he left, Adam whirled on me, his eyes ablaze.
"What the hell are you thinking!" he shouted, venting his frustration out on me.
"What the hell am I thinking, what the hell are you thinking? You're the one who barged in on my business!"
He scoffed and threw down his sword and pistol. They were useless in his hands while stuck in a room with a vexatious girl.
"I know you to be many things, Astrid, but you're not a whore! When you told me you had to meet Mardling, I didn't think you'd actually do it!"
"I wasn't planning to! It's only just a—"
"Distraction?" he finished, outraged. "For what, hmm? Tell me, love, why are you trying to distract the head of all security in this godforsaken palace?"
I stood up on my feet and gave him a push for mocking me.
"I don't much care for your tone, sir," I seethed, grabbing my fallen veil and wrapping it back around my face. I figured that enough time had passed, and I sent many glances over at Mardling's window for my signal. "If you wish to part ways in such a manner, so be it. I'm not going to see you again."
It was a brutal thing to say, but I had to say it. Otherwise, Adam wouldn't soften and let me leave the room. The ploy worked and Adam let down his guard and came after me, his arms at his sides and the creases on his brow smoothing out.
"Astrid, please. I'm sorry. I—"
"It's too late for that now, Adam dear," I snapped, catching a glimpse of my signal and inching towards my exit. "First you call me a whore, and then you doubt my honesty, when all I'm really trying to do is survive. How dare you, you filthy sorry man. How… dare… you!"
"Astrid—" He came close and I slapped him on the face, immediately regretting doing so.
Oh, God, Adam. If only I could tell you that I don't mean a bloody thing I'm saying.
"Don't follow after me, Adam. You've chosen your side, and I've chosen mine. It's obvious that you love the navy more than you love me, so why can't I love my ocean more than I love you?"
He said nothing. He only down at me, his stormy blue eyes greyer than ever and the hurt present in them was maddening. I had to look away. And after taking in a shaky breath, I clenched my fists and exited the room, but I felt Adam grab hold of my skirt, trying to stop me. And as soon as I turned around, a fist made contact with my poor lieutenant's face, knocking him down on the floor and into unconsciousness.
Horrified, I looked around me and saw Roland standing dumbly, his fist still up in the air.
"Bloody hell, Astrid!" he screamed. "I thought I was going to punch Mardling, not Adam!"
"You'd better pray to God that he doesn't remember any of this," I trembled, not knowing what to do. I couldn't just leave my lieutenant lying on the floor like that with a bloody nose, so I hauled him back into Mardling's room, gave him a quick kiss (despite how ludicrous it was) and sprinted out of there with my brother.
"How'd the theft go?" I asked during the run. Roland shook his head.
"Not as we planned at all. Somehow they were ready for us, and Cord barely snuck out of the maharaja's room alive." My mind drifted back to Adam. He knew. The little rascal knew.
We had to dodge a few soldiers who were busy searching for the "damned crew of pirates" and after a cutting it close a couple of times, Roland and I managed to make it out of the palace and back onto the dirt-road streets of Chennai, meeting up with my Irishman (carrying an exhausted Cordelia), Guerra, Hernán and Ana Maria along the way.
"Hey, bonnie," Tom greeted, kissing me unexpectedly on the cheek. "You all right? That damn navy scum didn't do anything to ye, aye?"
Before I could expel my first dreamy sigh, Roland butted in.
"She made me punch the wrong man! I ended up punching her ex-lover instead of the Admiral!"
"What!" roared Tom. "That means the admiral is still out there and searching for us?"
"Aye," allowed my brother, weakly, to acknowledge the Irishman's ire.
"We have to get out of here, fast. Jack's waitin' for us at the docks. We have to run like there's no tomorrow. We'll be caught at this rate."
"All too well," said Ana Maria, her eyes widening as she looked behind us. I could see the spikes of marine bayonets, and specks of the blue and red uniforms were visible through the clouds of dust their rapid march was throwing up into the air. I seized Roland's arm.
Tom cursed.
"Run!"
Fleeing hand-in-hand with Roland, we tore through the crowded streets, dodging street vendors and passer-bys and knocking down food stands and tripping over passing carts, goats and, unfortunately, even people.
I fell down more than once, losing a shoe in one instance and dragging Roland down with me. We lost track where the rest of the others went, on account of the fact that we had gotten split up as we tried to weave our way around the flood of people flowing in and out of the streets. Brother and I had hoped to take a breather as soon as we reached the docks, but the band of soldiers following our trail were trained and prepared to pursue us until the ends of the earth, and while Roland and I were nearly gasping for breath by the time we reached the docking yards, we couldn't stop. We had to keep going until we reached the safety of our captain and ships.
The problem with passing through the docks was that about a quarter of the navy's personnel were on watch there, meaning that they could easily capture us if they had received word of our newly released criminal records. I knew word was known to travel fast, but I did not expect it to travel faster than we did.
"Oh, bugger," griped Roland, when we had run smack into a troop of marines patrolling the planks of the Paramount. And who else was leading them but Lieutenant Kenneth Murray?
"Fix your bayonets!" he ordered, unaware of the identities of the "Arabs" who were about to be shot at his command. I glanced at Roland beneath my veil. Both of our faces were covered, leaving only our eyes visible to our opponents, but he read my look and agreed to it with a subtle eye roll.
I took off my veil and approached Kenny.
"Don't shoot!" I cried, and Murray, astounded, came forward stammering like an idiot in front of me and his marines.
"Astrid?" he squawked. "W-What are you doing here?"
"I'm running away from the pirates. They are being chased and I found my chance to escape. Please let us go."
"Then who's that?" he questioned, gesturing at Roland.
"An old friend," said Roland behind his head covering. "I know I look like a bloody Moor, but ye have to let us go, Kenneth. We're only keeping you from catching the real pirates who are still coming down from Lord Pemberton's home."
"Dear God, my mistake," said Kenneth ordering his marines to stand down. "We could protect you two if you'd like. Take you back to England."
"Thanks, Murray, but you'd only be endangering yourselves. These pirates would track us down. We don't want you to get caught in the crossfire." Kenneth consented with a little bit of hesitation and once again joining hands, brother and I took flight and raced through the rest of the harbor. But I made sure to reward Mr. Murray for being gullible and trusting, and I made sure to leave him with a warm kiss on the cheek before waving him goodbye, laughing joyously behind my veil.
By sunset, our crew was safely aboard the ships again. All of us were heavily fatigued from running desperately for our lives, but in all truth, we were content and happy with the way things turned out. Jack was exceptionally pleased, clinging to his prize with a resilient hold. Tom couldn't separate diamond from pirate no matter how hard he tried.
"So, we have your diamond. Now what do we do?" asked the grumpy Irishman.
"Evidently, the task now at hand is to find the next diamond."
"And how are we going to that?" asked Cordelia, her tired frame leaning against the reclining body of her Spaniard, Hernán.
"Simple." Jack set the diamond and its golden encasing on the top of the ship's binnacle, and with a unified moan, we all got up off of our bums and trudged over to the wooden box by the wheel. Cordelia managed to squeeze her way through to the very front, right beside her pirate father, looking at the golden box with wide, eager eyes.
Jack opened the contraption and pulled out the diamond, handing it to the little sparrow behind him with a strict warning.
"Don't. Drop. It."
With the diamond in Cord's hands, he pulled a slip of paper out of the case and set it flat against the top of the binnacle, revealing a drawing of a little boy dressed in blue blowing a horn.
"Care to interpret, Captain Sparrow?" voiced Roland, looking at the picture with a heap of skepticism.
"Well," began Jack, seemingly unsure himself. "It looks like a page from a book. There's text below the picture… in a language I can't read," he added, confused as always.
"That is Afrikaans," said Sefu, amazing the entire crew with his random input.
"Can you read it?" asked Cordelia.
"No, but I know Afrikaans when I see it. We had a lot of foreigners come to our village to trade. Their notes—money—had this language on it."
"Well, that solves everything," beamed Jack. "We're off to South Africa. All hands, set sail! Movement, ye slubberdeguillons! I want movement!"
"Wonderful," I heard Roland mutter. "More English to face. It was bad enough having to escape your own kin here in India." He continued to complain as he crawled up the ratlines to prepare the sails.
The rest of us pulled away from the binnacle and went to our appropriate posts as we prepared to set sail. Tom jumped down into a boat and rowed himself back to his own ship, along with half of our crew. And I took the time to mosey about, wasting a few more minutes before Jack scolded me for being idle.
I spotted the Spaniard and Cordelia sitting on the deck and leaning against the rail, sharing my ideal of sloth. After some consideration, I decided to join them in their laziness and sat next to the Spaniard, raising an eyebrow at Cord who was happily resting her head against Hernán's arm.
"So…" I began, picking at my teeth. "How's that leg of yours fairing, Dago?"
"Hurts like a—"
"Uh huh," I cut off, reminding him to mind his mouth around the youngest member of our crew. "Let me take a look."
I prodded the flesh of his leg with a finger, noting that it was bruising in random splotches.
"The muscles are tight," he added, anticipating my question of 'Can you move your leg?' "Ergo, I can't make it budge unless you want me to curse."
"You can't make it budge, but I could," I grinned, positioning my hands on his leg so that with applied force, I could bend his leg against the cramps and pain.
"Astrid, be nice," chided Cordelia.
"Fine. I will. Cord, boil me some hot water and bring me a few sheets of linen. I'll treat him the nice way." Upset that I was driving her away from her Spaniard, but obedient nonetheless, she got up and went underhatches to complete the order. I turned to Hernán.
"I took your advice," I confessed, appearing nonchalant.
"About what to do with your man?" he snickered.
"Yes. And he's not really mine. I'm quite sure that after what I've done he wouldn't want me anymore."
"I'm guessing it didn't turn out too well," he deduced, taking off his keffiyah and running his hand vigorously through his sweaty hair.
"Well, at first, it went very well. Only, as soon as I had to actually do my part in our grand plan, things got a bit… unwell."
Cord marched up from belowdecks and dropped a pot of hot water and a pile of clean sheets next to me. I looked down at the items and then looked at her.
"You know I can't dip my fragile hands into boiling hot water, Delia. Could you fetch me some tongs?" She shot a breath through her nostrils and then stormed away, hating every minute of separation from her favorite crewmember. Of course, if Hernán was occupied, she'd simply cling around Roland. But Roland was busy being a good sailor, unlike the rest of us.
"Do you think you'll see him again to explain everything to him?" asked the Spaniard, out of mild curiosity. I had no reason to assume he was asking it because of other reasons. I heard my share of stories from his shipmates about how harlots fought over him in port. Whether he was proud of such a reputation or not, I did not know. I hadn't exactly asked for his perspective on the subject yet.
"Not likely. I plan on staying with Jack for a very long time. And chances are, my lieutenant will plan on staying with his blasted navy for a very long time as well. We won't cross paths any time soon."
Cord returned with the tongs and I used them to dip the linens into the hot water before carefully wrapping them around Hernán's healing leg. He grimaced as the heat seared his skin, but the warmth eventually became a comfort and he relaxed considerably.
"You're safe for now, I'd assume," was his reply. He was getting bored, I could tell.
"Guerra says you were getting a bit friendly with one of the maharaja's female attendees," I brought up, hoping to keep him awake. As relaxing as his treatment was, he had to stay awake so that his blood flow didn't slow down. That would only result in more cramps in his leg.
"Guerra sees what he wants to see. That man likes to live vicariously through me."
"Now why would he do that?" I asked, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from smiling. I didn't know Guerra had trouble with the ladies. Cord turned to Hernán for his answer to my question. He smiled, aware of our inquisitiveness and shrugged.
"It's a matter of opinion, I think. So I'll leave the answer up to you."
I looked down and continued wrapping the linens around his leg.
"You obviously have some history in that area," I allowed, causing him to release a puzzled, 'Qué?' I returned his cheeky smile. "Otherwise, your advice wouldn't have worked so well."