Despite Melinda's efforts to make him eat breakfast first, he could not stomach anything with Rick on his mind and rose from the table. Jim pressed a kiss to her forehead and left the room without another word. There wasn't anything to say. She knew where he was going and what he was going to do.
He walked through the rocking hallways and down to the dungeons quickly and slowed when he could hear the commotion from the cell he was headed towards. It was Daniel, he soon realized when the steel cell door opened. His brother was beating the pirate senseless and he had no reason to stop him. The man deserved far worse, but once he was knocked unconscious Jim stopped him.
"Enough. He's not worth hurting yourself and he can't feel it right now anyway," he said, but Daniel shook his hand off his shoulder and kicked Rick one last time. "Go. He's mine now. Get the crew together. They can have him when I'm finished."
His brother nodded and then rinsed his hands off in the bucket of drinking water before pouring it over Rick to wake him up. "Wake up," Daniel muttered, grabbing him by his hair before slamming his face back down on the ground. "No more rest for you until you die, remember?"
The pirate groaned and coughed, then raised his head to see Jim standing there. "Ah, hello there," Rick chuckled and spat out blood and saliva in his direction, though it didn't bother him much at this point. "Come to visit me have you? How nice."
Before Rick could speak again, he thrust his foot against the man's face twice, knocking him over onto his back and then punching him in the face. After another moment, he kicked him again and when the pirate didn't move, he scoffed, "Get the fuck up. Unless you can't stand, fight me like a goddamn man," he said. "I don't enjoy beating a man when he is down and unguarded, even you. Yous should know that."
Rick struggled for a second, but after a moment the man stood in front of him. "What is it that you want? I can barely stand, you know that from the beating you had your brother give me."
"That was all Daniel. I never said a word to him," he said. "He holds his grudge for you killing our brother Robert. Mine is different."
"Of course. That bastard brother of yours. I remember, but Melinda? I'll never forget her," Rick smiled as he said her name, and then threw a weak first punch. "Does she miss me?"
Jim dodged the slow blow, catching Rick's arm and twisting it. He quickly overpowered him, having been beaten over the twelve hours left little strength in the pirate when he kicked him to the ground again. "What's that? I didn't quite hear you." Instead of letting him get up, he quickly kneeled beside him and then punched him in the face over and over. "Did you think I would leave you here to rot? You took my wife and maybe we could've just let it be, but then you tried to claim her and our daughter as yours. How dare you."
Rick had tried his best and got to his feet again, rushing him and even getting a few blows in, but he took them in stride. It was nothing he couldn't handle, but when the pirate soon ran out of energy, he shoved him back to the ground and gave up to lay chuckling on the ground. "I do as I please, Clancy, even now. I always have." Rick sighed and spat on the ground again. "Just like how I sat outside and listened to what Lom did to your pretty wife. She's quite the ride. Fought him the whole time. Until she didn't. The only regret I truly have was that I didn't go in right then and take her too. It's what you both deserve."
All the pirate had left were his words and Jim knew that when he landed his final blow that knocked him unconscious again. He couldn't hear any more of it. It was done. He slung Rick over his shoulders and carried up to the top deck and dropped him before the feet of the crew gathered together. "I don't care what you do with him. Just clean it up and get it over it with by dusk." He muttered and threw him down onto the deck.
At least now Rick would be taken care of and they would have no one else to worry about.
Waking up that next morning, Melinda found that Jim had still not returned. She knew that Rick was dead and dealt with when she'd gone to check his cell the night before, but still, her husband was gone. She dressed and went to his study, finding him asleep at his desk with an empty whiskey bottle, and that worried her. He looked disheveled and like he'd barely slept, not to mention his bloodied fists or any other injuries he might still have from the ruckus of the last few days.
She wanted to wake him, to yell at him for making her so worried over probably nothing, but she didn't. Instead, she cleaned up the mess around the room and sent for breakfast to be brought to them. Papers were scattered everywhere and she tossed the empty bottle by the time his head rose and the food arrived.
"Morning," she said, peeking up at him as she spread honey across the bannock in her hand. "Rough night? You didn't come to bed."
She could instantly tell he was tense when he gave no reply and wiped his face the best he could to rid himself of looking drowsy. It didn't do much. He was no doubt thinking about Rick or worse, the burials for the crewmen they'd had lost.
Francis, Henry, and George.
Melinda placed her free hand on top of his when she finish spreading the honey around her bread, gently squeezing the back of his hand with her fingers. "Is something wrong? I mean other than the obvious." She asked.
Jim sighed and turned his hand to hold hers properly. "No, no. Nothing's wrong," he said. "I didn't want to burden you last night with the terrible mood Rick put me in. I'm sorry if I worried you."
She nodded. "I thought as much. You should eat and if you want to talk about it, I'm here," she said and age his hand another squeeze, taking a bite into her honeyed bannock.
He didn't say anything more as they ate and if she were honest with herself, she was deeply worried about him. She knew he tended to carry the weight of things that weren't his fault on his shoulders, a trait that he's pointed out several times that she shares. So she gave him a break just this once until they had a chance to be alone again and remained by his side the whole time, leaving with him to stand close by at the helm when they finished their meal, and even as the crew prepared to bury the fallen men at sea.
"Are you ready?" she asked him as they watched the crew laid out the three bodies, covered in their shrouds by the gunwale, and large wooden boards resting beside them. The ship gently rocked on the waves as it stopped to let them perform the burial.
"Yeah," he told her in a heavy voice, drawing her hand from where it was nestled in her cloak. She squeezed his hand, relieved when he returned the pressure.
He led her to where most of the men had gathered around, the few that weren't setting the crimson flag at half-mast. As soon as they had stepped forward, they began the final prayers for the deceased, but Melinda didn't hear a word of it.
She kept her eyes on the shrouds, feeling Jim's hand in hers. Her imagination running wild, she saw the images of some of the other crew members under the shrouds, their weapons placed on top of the coverings. She fought against each image, imagining Katherine, Ned, or Jim, still and cold, until the worst of them came, and she thought of their daughter.
She felt her husband's hand tighten around hers to calm her down, grounding her to him, sensing her becoming more and more upset. She returned the pressure when he discretely brushed his lips over the top of her hair.
The knell of the funeral bell rang through the air, making Melinda focus on the funeral in time to see Francis, Henry and George lifted and placed in the water, the atmosphere around the crew solemn.
Before the crew could disperse, Jim called their attention. "As we all know, Rick attacked us two nights ago," he said in an authoritative voice. "We just buried three of our own. We all know that the threat Payne posed is gone, but that could easily be filled again. Most of you are men returning home with me to Scotland, so I can assure you and your families will be safe, but those of you that aren't should be wary of any enemies we might've made last night."
She gently squeezed his hand, offering him her full support. Her eyes scanned the crew, watching for their reactions. Various emotions crossed the men's faces, but none said anything just yet.
He took a breath before going on. "I don't wish for any more of the blood of my crew to be spilled. This is why I'm offering everyone the chance to leave. We are to stop at Port Bellamy, and any man who wishes to leave is free to. They will not be thought a coward or a deserter in any way, and there will be no harsh feelings. Whatever your choices are, they will be respected. We will arrive within a week, so you have until then to decide if you wish to leave. Then we head back for Scotland."
After one last glance at the crew, he gently squeezed her hand before releasing it and turning to leave, going to the hatch on the quarter deck and descending into the cabin. Melinda waited and watched as the crew slowly recovered from their shock. Daniel approached her first.
"Is he serious?" he asked her.
"Yeah," she answered in a heavy tone. "Jim thinks it's his fault that Francis, Henry, and George are dead, and doesn't want to risk anyone else."
Daniel gave her a look of disbelief. "But it was Rick's men that killed them."
"I know," she responded and sighed. "I'm going to go down with him, make sure he's okay."
He nodded. "Of course, lass. I've got it handled up here."
"Thanks," she replied, giving him a small smile as she turned to follow Jim's path to their cabin. Upon entering, she found him slumped in the armchair, his coat thrown carelessly on the bunk and his flask in hand. His hair was mussed from him running his hand through it. "Hey," she greeted. "You left rather quickly."
He looked up at her. "Hey. Sorry, love. I just..."
She shook her head, her voice was soft as she moved next to him. "No, it's okay. I'm pretty sure of everyone here that you're entitled to get upset." He offered her a weak smile in return. "The crew was pretty surprised at your offer," she told him.
He nodded, "I expected as much, but it was the right thing to do." He sighed, taking a swig before offering her the flask.
Taking the flask, she eyed him and took a small drink. "What did he say to you that has you so out of your mind?" She asked before handing it back to him.
Instead of taking the flask, he drew her to him, letting her nestle on his lap in the chair. She undid her cloak, draping it over the back of the chair as she leaned into him and he draped his arm over her shoulders. They were mostly quiet, just taking comfort in each other's presence, exchanging the flask between them, but she knew something was troubling him with the avoidance of her question.
Instead of prying, she decided to let him talk about it when he was ready. As soon as she rested her head back on its spot on Jim's shoulder, Daniel stopped by to deliver their midday meals. He remained quiet through their meal, and Melinda's nerves rose with each passing second. Finally, when they had both finished, her resolve broke.
"Jim, what's wrong?" she asked him in a worried tone. "You've been quiet all day and are avoiding my questions."
He rose, beginning to pace, running his hand through his hair. "You were right. He said things and they made me so angry I nearly choked the life out of him before I decided to just give him to the crew, but I don't think you'll want to hear them." He sighed, telling her all of this.
It didn't surprise her. Rick was a charismatic parasite that was eating him alive even after death. Feeling like all of the air had been taken from her lungs, she looked at him, stunned. "What did he say?" She asked, anger beginning to creep into her voice.
"When you were attacked, Rick stood outside and listened, and it was just... it was the way he talked about it," he responded, pain in his eyes, and shaking his head. "I can't get it out of my head."
She shook her head, biting her lip as she felt the sting in her eyes of tears threatening to spill over. Her quiet voice was shaky. "That changes everything about what I think about him and nothing about how you need to forgive yourself for what happened. He's only trying to tear us apart and you're letting him win right now." Giving him one last glance, she turned and walked out of their quarters into the corridor of the ship. She blinked away the tears that threatened to spill, not wanting to cry. She wanted to go to where she felt the safest, in his arms, but she knew that wasn't an option right now.
Not paying attention to where she was going, she found herself at the galley. Pushing the door open, she expected it to have completely cleared out at the late hour, but spotted Daniel and William sitting in their spots at the benches having a conversation, their teasing arguments absent as they talked about what sounded like Jim's offer for leave. They looked up when she opened the door, their expressions worried when they saw her.
"Milady, is everything all right?" William asked urgently, moving to rise from his seat.
"Yes, it's fine," she said, waving him off. "I'm sorry, I thought the galley would be empty. I'll leave you two alone."
"Lass, you're more than welcome in here whenever you wish," Daniel told her. "You don't have to leave." Watching as she stood in the doorway, Jim's brother motioned for her to join them. "You're welcome to join us, Melinda. We were just having a drink. I can get some wine for you if you wish."
Huffing out a breath, she stalked to her spot on the bench, settling down. She decided she could use a drink. "That would be wonderful. Thank you." She said as Daniel set out a glass for her, which William filled from the flagon of wine resting beside them.
"Now, what brings you seeking the solitude of the galley at this hour?" Daniel asked after he poured himself some more whiskey.
She sighed, grabbing her glass and taking a drink, her brow furrowed. Her voice was low when she spoke. "I don't know why I ever thought Rick Payne was misunderstood or trapped in his life. He was a piece of work." Melinda blew out a hard breath through her nose before taking a large sip of wine. "And Jim is taunted by the last thing he said to him so he can't even bear to look at me without guilt or pain in his eyes right now. It's asinine."
Daniel nodded, his face growing pensive. "William, you should go. This conversation isn't for you." His tone was gentle, and once his son left, he turned to her. "Melinda, what did Rick say?"
"I don't know exactly what he said, but something along the lines of him listening in on what happened to me below his ship that first day. And it changes everything I ever thought about Rick. I'd thought he'd beaten that... other pirate because he thought what happened was wrong but I'm pretty sure now he was just angry it wasn't him, and that he did it to earn my trust. It all worked perfectly for him." She sighed, feeling guilty. "I just wish Jim would talk to me. I can't let him face this on his own."
"I think you two have some things to talk about," Daniel told her, encouragingly. "My brother is stubborn, but he loves you. He'll tell you eventually."
Offering him a weak smile, she felt defeated. "You're right." She glanced at her glass, quickly downing the remaining wine before rising. "Thank you and I'm sorry if I interrupted your time with your son," she said, gratefully.
"Any time, lass. Don't worry about it," Daniel responded. "Just remember you can talk to me whenever you need to. I am your brother by law after all. Would you like me to walk you back to your cabin?"
"I'll be fine. Finish your drink," she said before turning, exiting into the dark maze of the ship. She quietly made her way back, careful not to disturb any of the sleeping crew. She knew she'd been harsh, but just like he didn't want to hurt her, she didn't want to be shut out by him. She couldn't leave him alone, she loved him too much.
Reaching the door to their quarters, she drew in a deep breath before pushing open the door carefully. The cabin was dark, all lights extinguished. She quickly spied Jim in bed, turned away from her. She knew he was awake, seeing his timed breaths. Was he waiting up for her?
Melinda felt her heart flutter, both touched and nervous. She quickly undressed until she was just in her underclothes. Careful not to expose him to the chilled air, she carefully slid into their small bed, moving until her front was pressed against his back. She pressed her lips to his shoulder blade. "I'm sorry," she said softly into his skin. "I was angry and I'm sorry."
He shifted away from her and she felt a pang of rejection until he rolled over so that he was facing her. "Melinda, love, you do not need to apologize," he whispered, his hand moving to caress her cheek. "What you said was true."
She shook her head, resting her hand on his side. "No, what I said was harsh and cruel."
"But still true," he responded slowly. "And I'm sorry, too. You were right. I was only thinking about myself and letting Rick destroy me, and... it is time that I learn to begin to forgive myself."
She smiled, hopeful. "Good," she said, leaning towards him to bring her lips to his, pouring all the love she could into the kiss, which Jim eagerly returned. "You deserve to be happy. I haven't seen you happy in a long time."
"I'm just afraid I'll lose you," he told her, leaning his head against hers. "I've already lost my mother and father, and my brother too. I can't lose you or Ella, Melinda."
"You won't," she promised him. "As long as we're together, you won't lose us." She bit her lip before she continued. "And I can't lose you either. I love you, more than anything. I won't leave your side. Ever."
Jim reached forward, capturing her lips in another searing kiss, whispering his love for her. She held him close and laid her head on his chest, not wanting to let go of him even when they parted from their kiss. Melinda drifted to sleep hoping that things would be better tomorrow.
In the morning, however, she woke to find him on his back staring at the ceiling again. One look at the lines under his eyes and she knew he had not slept at all.
She placed a hand to his cheek but he shifted to sit up, "There's work to be done." He said without feeling.
"Jim…" She began, concern and worry evident in the cadence of her voice but he continued to get up and start getting ready for the day.
"The sooner we can get home, the sooner we can return to normal." He said with finality to his words.
Melinda sat silently while he quickly dressed and left the room. He never left her without a kiss to her forehead, or nose, or lips. Today, he barely looked back at her as he left. She tried not to take his distance personally. She knew that he was in an unimaginable amount of pain and wanted to support his grief, no matter how or when he chose to express it. But she had not been expecting this. She expected him to pull her in closer, not push her away. This reaction worried her.
After a moment, she pulled herself up as well. Perhaps Jim had a point. As soon as they got back to Scotland and their daughter, they could go back to normal. She got dressed and went on her way.
Once again, she barely saw her husband throughout the day. Brief sightings of him showed that he was intent on focusing only on the work to be done. While drawing the picture she wanted to send to Ella and eating lunch, he made an appearance to share a quiet meal with her and she appreciated it. Unsure what mood he was in, she laid her hand gently on his arm.
"Is that the one for Ella?" He asked quickly, clearly feeling it was only proper to have some conversation.
"Yes," she said. "Do you like it?" She slid the parchment over to him and the stoic look on his face broke as he chuckled.
"She will love it. Butterflies are her favorite," he said, sliding the picture back and then going back to eating his meal quietly. "It's beautiful."
When Jim finished his meal, he stood and this time kissed her cheek goodbye, but before he could move she stood and tugged on his arm to try and get him to stay.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed his face into her neck quite suddenly. He didn't say or do anything, just breathed her scent into his lungs and she wrapped her arms gently around his back. Kissing his hairline, she whispered gently to him, "Are you okay?"
"Yes. Well, not really, but I'm just—" He tried to speak but couldn't find the words and waved his hand haphazardly in the direction of the hallway.
Melinda gave him a small smile, "I know. You have things to do." She said understandingly. "Just promise me you will come to bed tonight."
He nodded in response and then got up to make his way back to the top deck.