George felt a hand tug at his cape, and turned around to meet the earnest green eyes of Princess Marie Louise, who smiled and requested sweetly, "Please, I'd like to speak with you for a moment, George...I'm sorry, Comte de Sand." George distractedly returned her smile with a half-hearted one of his own, his mind too crowded with the information that had been revealed to him only a week earlier to really register anything around him.
"Of course, Princess Marie Louise--anything for you," he agreed, sweeping down in a polite bow even as his mind lingered on his imminent marriage. Marie Louise clutched his arm and slowly led him away from the courtyard and toward her favorite rose garden, beginning hesitantly as though she were carefully choosing her words, "I, er...Congratulations on your engagement, Comte."
"Thank you," George replied automatically, trying to remember his bride's name. Was it Allison? Ellen-something? No, that wasn't it..."Allenby," he murmured out loud, then repeated her name as though to confirm it: "Allenby Beardsley." A quick flash of resentment darted across Marie Louise's face, as she leaned back in surprise and asked in a rising voice that poorly concealed her jealousy, "Excuse me, George--Comte? Who are you thinking about?" George snapped back to the present, realizing he'd been ignoring her all this time and feeling a wave of shame wash over him at his ungentlemanly conduct--and around the princess of all people!
"I am terribly sorry, Princess." He knelt down in a respectful bow, as if to demonstrate his apology with action as well as words. "Please, is there anything you need?" Marie Louise took a deep breath. Now was the time to tell him how she truly felt about him--before his new bride arrived from Sweden and he would forever be lost to her. But what was she supposed to do after she confessed her love for him? She'd never quite planned that far ahead...Perhaps they could elope...
"Um," Marie Louise stammered, fervently avoiding eye contact while she bought some time. "Um, I...I have to tell you something...something important--"

Before the princess of France could continue, a soldier came rushing toward the pair, running breathlessly so that his saber clanged against his knees with each sprint and hastily dipping down in a sloppy bow in Marie Louise's direction.
"Princess Marie Louise, please forgive my rude interruption, but I must speak to Comte de Sand at once," he requested shortly, causing the petite blonde to bite down on her lower lip in disappointment.
"But--" she started to protest, quieting down as she thought over what exactly she could say to this impersonal cadet. That she was on the verge of spilling her heart out to the Comte? That she merely wanted a moment alone with him? George turned toward her, sweeping down in a more proper bow and requesting courteously, "If you'll forgive me, I have some matters to discuss with the good monsieur. Perhaps another time." Marie Louise hesitated, distress fighting with her devotion to the handsome young count in front of her, and devotion won when she curtsied and obediently walked a respectful distance away from the two men so that they could talk in private.

She was barely a couple of yards away from George and the cadet when she heard the former gasp a single word.
"Kidnapped?!"
Marie Louise froze in her steps, before twisting around abruptly and rushing back toward the two men, even as the cadet made frantic gestures as he further explained the situation, while George listened with a growing frown on his aristocratic features.
"Her ship was seized by pirates during the voyage from Sweden to France; we believe she's being held for ransom," the cadet explained helplessly, failing to notice when Marie Louise scuttled up to them and asked, "I don't understand. Has Princess Allenby been kidnapped?" George turned to meet Marie Louise's anxious green eyes, reproving gently but sternly, "Princess Marie Louise, you should go elsewhere. This type of conversation isn't fit for ladies." The fair-haired princess set her mouth in a firm line, only her curiosity for more details pressing a defiance against him from her as she replied stubbornly, "No, I won't go. I'll find out about this sooner or later, anyway, and I'd rather hear the information straight from the source, rather than settle for embellished gossip passed down third-hand amongst the court ladies." George leaned back, stunned by her determination, as he started to stammer a protest, "Miss Marie Louise..." before something in her eyes told him she could handle the truth, and he disclosed reluctantly, "Very well, then. Your suspicions are right, Princess Allenby has been kidnapped--her ship was overtaken while sailing toward France by a gang of pirates under the leadership of an American named Chibodee Crockett." Marie Louise leaned back, genuinely shocked and sympathetic.
"Why...that's terrible," she whispered, having been sheltered all her short life and now stunned in the face of evil. George nodded grimly.
"Yes, it is--which is why I'll be setting sail immediately to rescue her." His words stabbed a fresh needle of shock into Marie Louise, and she gasped, "You'll be doing what? Oh, George, can't you let the French royal navy take care of this?" As soon as the words were out of her mouth and she saw the frown tug at the corners of George's mouth, she knew she'd said the wrong thing and injured his honor.
"You know I can't do that, Miss Marie Louise," he reminded her quietly. "After all, Princess Allenby is to be my wife...what kind of message will I be sending her if I care so little about her that I won't even risk my life to save hers?" But you don't love her enough to risk dying for her, Marie Louise wanted to shout stubbornly, biting down on her lip until it hurt to prevent the heated words from escaping. George, meanwhile, had turned to the cadet and was requesting, "Please, assemble a rescue crew immediately. We'll be leaving on my ship, The Rose."
"Right away, sir." The cadet saluted, before twisting on his heel and running off to spread the news. George was about to leave as well, when a quiet request from the princess stopped him in his tracks.
"Can I come with you?" Marie Louise asked sincerely, hope shining in her green eyes. George's response was immediate, as he nearly snapped, "Of course not! That's the most absurd idea I've ever heard in situations like this!" Regaining his composure, he quickly gave a short bow while murmuring apologetically, "Forgive me, Princess. I'm ashamed to have lost my temper like that, but you have to understand, this journey is far too dangerous for you to go."
"I'm not afraid of danger," the princess replied stubbornly, lifting her chin with pride as if to demonstrate her gallantry. "And I'm sure I can help you--the pirates will attack without hesitation any man dressed in the attire of the French royal court, but they would never suspect a lady, especially not one so young as myself, and besides--" George quietly cut her off before she could spout any further justifications as to why she should go.
"Please don't, Miss Marie Louise," he requested softly. "I can't let you senselessly risk your life like this, even if it is for a noble cause." Marie Louise opened her lips, as though to fight his words, when an unreadable look suddenly flashed across her eyes and she backed off, closing her mouth and nodding demurely.
"All right," she agreed in a deceptively quiet voice, turning around quickly so that he couldn't read her eyes. "I won't press you any further, Comte de Sand. I wish you the best of luck on your rescue mission." And she lifted her skirts from where they'd been trailing on the ground and daintily walked away, leaving George behind to stare after her retreating back with a puzzled frown on his face.


The johns! Allenby nearly swelled with rage and indignation each time she thought of where Chibodee had carelessly set up her temporary prison, even as Rain beside her tried to make the best of the situation and untied her sachet from her rustling skirts to hang up above them and combat the smell. The fragrances of lilies-of-the-valley mixed with the stuffily unpleasant odors of the toilets, creating a peculiar rank that made an already outraged Allenby want to rip up the chains restraining her and run as far away from the ship as she possibly could. Somehow, the Swedish princess thought darkly to herself, she had a nagging feeling that Chibodee had purposely chosen to hold them prisoner by the johns as all part of some grand and distasteful joke. He'd certainly seen to it that at least two or three of his men came to do their business every five minutes, and once when Allenby had exploded at him and snapped in a whirlwind of fury and injured vanity that this was no way to treat gentlewomen, he'd simply quirked one eyebrow in her direction before pointing out with exaggerated innocence that there was a screen set up to block out indelicate sights unfit for ladies' eyes.
"I'd never have thought men of your kind even bothered with toilets," she'd replied after a moment of indignant silence while she'd smarted under his jibe and tried to think of a comeback. "Don't you people just...er, conduct your business into the ocean?" Despite herself, Allenby was blushing by the end of her sentence, wondering why she'd even bothered to bring up that subject around him. He'd be sure to smirk and flip some off-hand jeering remark at her. She was right, when Chibodee replied laughingly, "Well we would, but then what would the little fishies in the sea do?" Allenby scowled.
"Oh, stop it," she grumbled crossly. "You sound like an even bigger fool than you already are." Chibodee swept down in a grand gesture, as if to tip his hat at her.
"Why, thank you," he drawled. "I'd take my hat off to you, but as you can see, I'm not wearing one."

Even now, two days after that particular conversation, Allenby couldn't help but seethe whenever she thought of his insolence.
"A fine swashbuckler he is," she growled darkly to herself as she remembered his arrogance. "I'll bet that if I could just find the proper attire and sword, I can easily defeat him, fair and square, in a duel." Rain glanced over at her mistress when she heard her bitter diatribe, hastening to remind her, "Miss Allenby, you shouldn't say such things. It's not ladylike for a woman of your class to talk of outfighting a man--especially when he's a pirate and you're going to marry France's Comte de Sand."
"Thank you so very much for reminding me how two-faced our society is," Allenby remarked dryly. "But I think I'll keep my pride and prove my words, if I can just find a way to convincingly challenge that nasty, low-class American to a proper duel without getting laughed at to my face."

"Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't be terribly hard--Chibodee Crockett's notorious for never backing down from a challenge," that dismayingly familiar masculine voice spoke up languidly from the doorway, as both women turned around and saw the dark-haired American leaning against the door frame, his ever-present leaf dangling from a corner of his mouth. Chibodee grinned when he saw that he had the princess's attention, and proceeded to continue, "But you can't tell me you've already forgotten our agreement there, little missy--you won't give me any troubles, and I'll see to it that you and your chaperone over there don't get hurt. Remember, I'm not too keen on ransoming damaged cargo."
"How could I forget?" Allenby spat out, bristling at being referred to as some sort of object that could be traded for money. "When someone insinuates a woman is merely some sort of over-decorated property to get money out of, it kind of stays in my memory for quite a while!" Chibodee flashed a lopsided grin at her remark, flicking out his green leaf and leaning down to match her height. Allenby quickly turned her head in the other direction so that she wouldn't have to meet his eyes, but from her position she could still hear the smirk in his voice as he drawled, "I see, so you're the type who holds grudges." His next words surprised her so much, she actually whipped around and found herself looking him face-to-face with her mouth hanging slightly ajar, when he spoke pleasantly enough, "However, I can understand your frustrations over having to conform to society's biased ideas of a woman's role and value. Good for you, having a mind of your own--no matter how stubborn and childish it may be."
"You actually appreciate women's minds?" she gasped with a tinge of genuine admiration in her voice. "Guess you're not such a ruffian after all. And I'm not stubborn or childish!" Chibodee grinned carelessly.
"Sure you are," he taunted, enjoying the burst of anger and loathing that immediately flared over Allenby's features at his words. He went on, adding with a playful wink, "Moreso than you'd like to admit. If you didn't have your mind so stubbornly set on the idea that I'm an ill-mannered rogue with no respect for ladies, you'd have seen long ago how charming yours truly actually is." Allenby tilted back her slender neck and laughed, not out of scorn or resentment but of genuine mirth, causing him to lean back with a curious look on his face.
"Hey," Chibodee spoke up with mock apprehension, but the curiosity in his eyes betrayed his true feelings, "should I take that as an insult or a compliment that you're finally beginning to discover my wit?" A flicker of satisfaction lightened Allenby's mood, as she realized that she now held a degree of control over the American--the very first since she'd been on his ship.
"Oh, it's no compliment," she assured him in a deliberately saccharine voice, enjoying the flash of confusion--and another emotion that she couldn't quite read--that darted across his face. "I just couldn't help but find highly amusing the thought of a renegade and an American like yourself as anything near charming or gallant."
"There goes the childish side of you," Chibodee countered. "Aristocrats equal refined, buccaneers equal vulgar." Allenby glared at him, feeling the control she'd held over him just a while ago beginning to slip. She fought for an equally snappy comeback, but, unable to think of anything vicious enough, settled for retorting sullenly, "I retract anything I might have said about you being less ill-mannered when you lied about actually respecting women who could think for themselves. You're still a cad."
"And you're still a child, pouting about not getting your way and talking big," Chibodee taunted.

Only one thing kept Allenby from breaking through her restraints and punching his lights out for his remark, and that was the arrival of whom she would later learn was the ship's first mate, a rugged-looking Japanese man named Domon Kasshu. His features were more hardy than handsome, Allenby decided...unless, of course, women found his hardy appeal to be handsome, as Rain apparently did by the look on her face. Allenby grinned to herself, studying Domon more closely to see which of his features had attracted her waiting gentlewoman.
"Hey, Chibodee, the navigator's spotted a British merchant ship dead ahead," Domon spoke up carelessly, sparing a brief look at the two women before focusing his attention back on the American.
"Hn, you know me," Chibodee laughed easily, and while the two men went over the attack plan, Allenby decided that if it weren't for the scars, Domon could actually be fairly good-looking.

"Handsome fellow, isn't he?"
Chibodee's teasing remark brought Allenby's mind back to the present, and she snapped up and stammered, flustered and blushing, "Wh--what are you talking about?" Chibodee jerked his head toward the general direction where Domon was now leaving, adding, "He'll have a hell of a time getting used to the idea of not one but two ladies chasing after him."
"Oh," Allenby stumbled, her face flaming bright red, "it's just like you to spread distasteful rumors of gentlewomen falling for ugly, battle-scarred pirates such as the likes of you and your men!"
"I don't see any gentlewomen before me," Chibodee whistled innocently. "All I see is a stubborn little girl playing dress-up in ladies' gowns and trying to act like a demure and sophisticated gentlewoman...even though a few minutes ago she was going on about matching swords with a pirate." Allenby scowled, still angry but now tired of these senseless arguments with him of which she couldn't seem to ever emerge the victor, so she decided to change the subject.
"He called you by your first name," she spoke up, referring to Domon. "Shouldn't he be referring to you as captain or at least leader? You can never expect to command respect among your men if you allow them to treat you like one of their own."
"Another charming concept you picked up in the Swedish royal court, I'm sure," Chibodee replied breezily. "And as for your question, I let my men call me by my name rather than by any title because I don't want their respect--I want their friendship, which can prove to invoke more loyalty than mere admiration. Besides," he added with a cheeky grin, "being respected makes me feel old and distinguished--and we can't have that, can we?" He straightened up before she could reply, drawing himself to his full height and beginning to walk out of the room, tossing a few parting words over his shoulder.
"Well, little lady, since you've been yearning to get out of your lovely prison so much, I'll grant it."

Allenby started up at his words, shocked at the possibility that he might be offering her freedom when he'd gone through such troubles to capture her.
"You will?" she asked in a small voice, not daring to hope for too much. Chibodee turned around and grinned, and when she saw the amused smirk hidden behind his carefree gesture, she knew he hadn't been talking about releasing her.
"Of course--ever been present at the plundering of a galleon before?" he teased.
"Be serious, American," she snapped irritably, her head dropping in disappointment that he'd only been joking about taking her out of her jail. Chibodee retraced his steps, leaning over her and grinning.
"I am serious--it's quite the excitement really; I figured you deserved at least that before you went from one boring lifestyle to another," he said.
"You're telling me that you'll just drag me along while you and your ruffians assault and ransack some other ship?" Allenby tried to make her voice as indignant as possible, but couldn't deny the secret thrill that went through her at the prospect of witnessing anything other than the finest royal decorum.
"What do you say?" Chibodee hovered above her, waiting for an answer and cocking one eyebrow questioningly in her direction.
"Miss Allenby, that is the most ridiculous and vulgar proposition--" Rain started to remind her warningly, but Allenby paid no attention to her words.
"I say...perhaps you aren't such a cad after all," she replied, returning his grin with an impish one of her own.