Moonlight on the Caribbean

Chapter Seven

It was an awkward situation, to say the least, simply sitting there staring at each other with nothing to say.  Jason silently cursed Brady for this overly cautious provision.  Nothing was going to happen to Lord Black aboard the Vengeance.  And in the meantime, Jason had to spend a third of his day stuck in this abominably hot makeshift dungeon with a man with whom he shared nothing in common.

For his part, John Black seemed to have reached a state where the presence of another man in the room barely registered with him.  He might be staring straight at Jason; but Jase had the distinct feeling he was looking right through him.  His thoughts were focused inward and elsewhere, and Jason couldn't help but wonder what they involved. 

Jason frowned as he reflected on the events starting with the day they had returned to Jamaica and learned of the ill-fated voyage of the Dolphin and culminating in yesterday's abduction.  Something about it simply didn't sit right with him, and he had to diagnose what it was, lest it drive him insane.  Brady's behavior was probably the oddest thing so far.  He'd been erratic, moody, on the entire trip to sea; and he refused to voice his concerns with Jason.  While the two men rarely discussed their inner thoughts with each other, preferring instead to keep most of their painful pasts locked away behind bars of iron, they had always shared a camaraderie that until now had never been broken. 

But from the moment Jason had told Brady about the Spanish plot on the life of Lord Black, Brady had withdrawn entirely into himself.  Even this rescue had been entirely out of character for the pirate who was generally regarded as completely heartless.  Granted, Jase had never completely agreed with that assumption; but he had never thought he'd see the day when anything managed to breach the armor surrounding his captain's emotions.  This had certainly done that.

Yet more confusing was Brady's insistence on wearing that bloody mask all the time.  They would be lucky to make it out of this debacle alive, and he was worrying about the remote possibility of being recognized once they got back to shore.  Stranger still, Brady had called Kev and Jase to him just the day before they took the ship to tell them never to call him by his given name during the rest of the journey.  They had both learned long ago not to question their captain's orders, but Jason at least went away wondering what the hell Brady was trying to hide.  None of the rest of the crew even knew Brady's Christian name; and on shore, he went by his alias.  So what game was he playing with all of this?

Jason needed answers; and if he wasn't going to get them from Brady, he'd have to look elsewhere.  With that in mind, he studied their captive more fully.  Lord John Black was a man whose strength and power could be felt even contained by iron bars.  He might have been born to the aristocracy, but a man would have to be a fool to think of him as coddled in any way.  Lord Black was a man of action, of vigorous energy; and Jason knew with certainty that somehow he was the key to unraveling the mystery of Brady.

"Does your lordship need anything?" Jason asked with diffident politeness, as a way of beginning the conversation he hoped would lead him nearer to the truth. 

John was suddenly so alert, without seeming to have come out of a daze of any sort that Jason began to wonder if he hadn't been studying him the entire time.  The viscount frowned as he sized up the pirate through slit-like eyes under raised brows.  "I've had my bread and water.  That's all a prisoner is entitled to, isn't it?"

Jason chuckled wryly.  "I wouldn't know, sir.  I've never had the privilege of being a captive, though I'm sure that's an honor which will shortly be granted to me.  But in the meantime, you are not a prisoner, not in the true sense of the word at any rate."

"I'm locked in a cell with a guard watching over me.  What exactly is that if not a prisoner?" John spat out violently.  He hated being in the position of weakness, and he hated even more being told he wasn't by those who held all the power.

"As you've been told before, your lordship, this is merely for your protection.  Believe it or not, there are other things I'd rather be doing with my time than sitting here with you.  But as we both have to be here, we might as well make ourselves as comfortable as possible.  To that end, I ask you again.  Do you need anything?  More food, more water, a bottle of rum, a change of clothes?  I can't do anything for you at the moment, but I'll be sure to attend to it as soon as I'm relieved." 

John fought back the urge to laugh.  Here he was, the right honorable Lord John Black, imprisoned in the hull of a pirate ship and still being waited on with all the deference he would have expected from his servants at the manor house.  He found himself inspecting the young man before him with more curiosity than previously.  Jason Masters certainly didn't fit his preconceived notions of a pirate, any more than that bloody Captain Blackheart did.  Both intelligent, both cultured, both born to something better than this.  What cruel twist of fate had brought them so low?

"Since you're offering, I would not object to a fresh set of clothes."  He cocked an eyebrow as he surveyed Jason's blood-stained clothes.  "That is if you have anything available that hasn't been corrupted with the pirate stench."

Jason smirked at the lord's haughty assertion.  "As a matter of fact, we do, Lord Black.  Whole trunks full of confiscated Spanish finery.  But for some reason, we would rather wear our foul rags than disgrace ourselves with the clothes of cowardly slaughterers." 

John's eyebrow seemed to rise even further on his impossibly high forehead at Jason's words.  "This, coming from a self-professed murderer?"

Jason didn't respond immediately.  Rather he abruptly pulled his cutlass out of the leather baldric that hung constantly round his shoulder and waist.  The polished steel glinted as it caught the light from the one small porthole.  In the hands of the pirate, it looked exactly like what it was…a tool of vengeance, an instrument of justice.  Jason's face hardened beyond his young years as he moved it slowly through the air.  He didn't see the bright metal as it was, rather a vision of what it looked like dripping with the blood of every man he'd ever killed.

"When I kill," he said finally, his voice as deadly cold as the weapon in his hands, "it's face to face.  When I kill, it's with my own hands, against men my own size and strength.  When I kill, I'm punishing the guilty.  When I kill, I stand there and I watch it happen.  The Spanish rarely see their victims die.  They die in the dark tunnels below the earth, mining for silver that they will never use.  It's so dark down there, you begin to wonder if there's even such a thing as the sun.  They die of the dirt and the work and cave-ins, and the Spanish don't care.  Not as long as the silver gets mined and carted and sent back to Madrid with His Majesty's seal.  When the Inquisitors kill, the victims die in dungeons below churches.  They die screaming to God to save them.  They die crying for their mothers, and their wives, and their children.  And when the Spanish kill, they kill the innocent…children, women…It doesn't matter.  So if you expect me to feel guilt over the men I've killed, you wait in vain.  As long as this arm can wield this sword, I'll kill; and I'll never regret it."

John shuddered at the horrible words.  The idea that one so young could be so heartless both appalled and frightened him.  And yet he saw still in the deep emerald eyes some spark of hurt and sorrow that seemed almost like a little boy lost.  "How old are you?" he asked suddenly, his thoughts wandering to his son.  Perhaps if Brady had lived, he would have been this man's age.

Lord Black's words sparked Jason out of his reverie.  He shrugged carelessly as he slipped the cutlass back into its place.  "I've forgotten," he said lightly.  "It's easy to do out here."  It was true.  Even upon reflection, Jason couldn't recall his precise age, or even his birth date.  Nor even, come to think of it, the date it was now.  Time didn't matter quite so much at sea.  Other things took precedence.

"Do you have any family?  A mother, father, wife?" John pried.  He felt a strange pity for the admitted murderer.  He looked like he hadn't known a home in a very long time.  "Surely they must wonder what's become of you."

It was as though a curtain had fallen in front of the pirate's face, and everything he felt or thought was abruptly wiped away behind a mask of iron.  "I have no one."  The icy tone of his voice refused to allow any more questions, and John respected that.  Realizing that they'd gotten nowhere near what he wished to discuss with the lord, Jason turned the tables around.  "What of you, your lordship?  I've had the pleasure of meeting your lovely daughter, but have you any other family?"

John abruptly shot up, livid fury painted on his face.  "Don't you dare lay a finger on my daughter!  Bars or not, I'll kill you, you son of a bitch!"  The staunch protective nature that was ingrained in John Black rose quickly at the merest mention of Belle.  All pity for the ruffian in front of him vanished as he pictured his dirty hands hurting the most precious treasure John had left.

Jason laughed at his vehemence, raising his hands in surrender.  "I promise, your lordship, I meant no offense.  I would not even think of going near the Lady Isabelle."  He reflected ruefully that such could not be said for his feelings towards Belle's pretty little maid.  But he figured such thoughts were better left unspoken.  "I merely meant to pay her a compliment; but I assure you, your daughter's honor is considered nothing short of sacred by the men aboard this ship."

Lord Black practically growled his discontent at this situation that kept his daughter so far from his protection.  "It had better damn well stay that way," he muttered darkly, "or I'll personally make sure that each and every one of you dangles from a rope at Execution Dock.  And that's a fact."

"That may yet be arranged, your lordship; but not for the reason you mentioned."  Jason's sardonic grin remained firmly in place through the whole interchange, and he was glad to see some sense of reason seemed to have returned to the viscount, who settled back down upon his cot.  "But I believe the topic of discussion was your family.  Is Lady Isabelle the extent of your relations?"

John eyed him shrewdly, as if trying to discern his reasons for asking.  Then, assessing the fact that he was in no position to argue, he answered through clenched teeth, "I have a wife at home in England."  He would say no more, for fear of putting Marlena in any form of danger.  Perhaps ransom was all these pirates wanted after all.

"But no other children?" Jason pressed.  He couldn't explain quite when the idea had come to him, but he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that Brady was in some way connected to the Blacks.  He wouldn't feel at ease until he'd discovered exactly what that correlation was.

A fleeting image of a pudgy little boy with sun kissed golden hair and laughing blue eyes passed through John's vision, before he shook it away. "No," he bit out, with the same flinty note Jason had used when questioned on his family.  Certain things were better left buried, like the dead.  Again, the mental portrait of the child appeared to him, joined this time by the dark-haired beauty who had been John's first love…the love he still yearned for.  "No.  There's no one."

And Jason let the silence fall on them again.  It was better that way.  In silence, one could sit next to another for hours and still be completely alone.

~~*~~

Chloe was shocked that morning to open her eyes and find herself confronted not only with a mouthwatering tray of fresh tropical fruits laid out on the captain's desk, but also an open trunk filled with several beautiful gowns.  Moving silently, so as not to wake the still sleeping Belle, she made her way across the room and began sifting through the dresses.  She found herself thinking that they were quite curious in design, until she realized they were Spanish made.  She abruptly dropped the soft blue fabric she'd been holding as her face paled.  These had obviously been stolen from some ship the Vengeance had taken.  Pirate booty.  He had sent her pirate booty to wear!

An even more appalling thought occurred to her, causing her usual color—and quite a bit more—to come back into her cheeks.  He had been in her room!  He had watched her sleeping, seen her in a state of undress no man ever had, not even her father.  It was indecent!  She cursed herself for the faint thrill it gave her.  What was wrong with her?  She was sure that if Belle had realized all this, she'd have flown into hysterics and bemoaned her humiliation.  That was what Chloe should be doing, should be feeling.  And yet, she felt her heart begin to quicken with an emotion other than anger or embarrassment.

A soft knock on the door mercifully intruded on her thoughts.  Stealing a quick glance at Belle, who was just beginning to stir restlessly from sleep, Chloe crossed the few steps to the door and whispered quietly through it, "Who's there?"

"It's Mimi, my lady."  Chloe pushed aside the small prick of disappointment as she opened the door to let in Belle's maid.  Mimi entered, fussing uncomfortably with her dress as her cheeks turned red.  It seemed wrong somehow to be dressed in this finery in front of Lady Chloe Wesley, especially considering the lady was clad in little more than her chemise.  Mimi would much rather have been in her simple brown frock and would probably still have worn the dirty smock, if she hadn't noticed the large tear in the skirt. 

So here she stood, feeling like a damn fool, in a dress that seemed bigger than she was, a dress made of satin and lace and formed of a rich green color that made her feel almost gaudy.  She couldn't even walk in the gown.  It felt like every step was a chore and getting through doorways and down passageways took far too much maneuvering.  Mimi held her breath, simply waiting for Chloe to berate her or laugh at her or somehow make her feel even more ridiculous.  She waited and she waited.  Finally gathering her courage, she met the lady's eyes and was surprised by the admiration she saw there.

"Mimi, you look lovely," Chloe said with a smile, seeing the servant's embarrassment and confusion.  "Why haven't you ever worn green before?  It brings out your eyes.  Granted, the Spanish style is a bit…shall we say, ostentatious?  But really, you're a beautiful girl."  It had never occurred to her before to see Mimi as anything more than the background scenery.  Her presence was simply a part of everyday life that Chloe took for granted.  Somehow, it had taken seeing the girl out of her traditional uniform to realize that Mimi was a girl much as she and Belle were, with beauty and dreams of her own.  Chloe's smile widened into a welcoming grin as she decided then and there to shove all rules of social convention out the window and befriend the maid.  After all, everything else had changed.  Why not this as well?

Mimi flushed, unsure how to respond to Chloe's friendliness.  It was completely out of character for the normally aloof lady.  But, she reasoned internally, perhaps Chloe was feeling as bewildered, terrified and yet enthralled by this whole situation as she was.  It would seem natural in that case for the two to bond, especially considering that Belle couldn't possibly comprehend the invigorating feeling of Life that flowed through their veins as the sea air entered their lungs.  Slowly, Mimi began to smile back, a small giggle escaping her lips.  "Thank you, my lady.  But I feel as big as a boat in these skirts."

Chloe grimaced a little as she reflected on the sheer volume of the material in the dresses.  And she had cursed the layers she had been forced to wear as an English lady.  "Yes, well, it doesn't appear we have much choice, do we?  At least until we can get our own dresses cleaned; and who knows when that may be."

Mimi frowned speculatively as she picked up the blue gown Chloe had recently discarded.  "I suppose so, my lady, at least for today.  But I might be able to speak to Jase about getting hold of some sewing supplies.  After all, he brought the dresses this morning.  Perhaps I can make some alterations to render these gowns more comfortable."

Chloe raised an eyebrow at Mimi's familiar use of the pirate's name but chose not to mention it.  She felt another wave of disappointment as the awareness that the captain hadn't been there flooded in on her, before she forced herself to ignore it.  "Oh, so he brought in this trunk and food then?" she asked with seeming casualness, which fooled neither herself nor Mimi, but kept up appearances.

"No, m'lady.  He stopped by my cabin quite early this morning, before he was to take his shift guarding Lord Black.  He left the breakfast trays with me, as well as telling me about the trunks.  They were already placed here for our convenience."  Mimi related the information tonelessly, letting no hint of her own emotions about the encounter seep through.  She had been severely disappointed by Jason's cool manner this morning, even though she tried to deny it to herself.  He had simply dropped off the food, told her about the clothes, and walked away.  Not a hint of emotion in any of his gestures or words.  And Mimi had to lie to herself and say she didn't care.

"Oh," Chloe replied stupidly, for lack of anything else to say.  Suddenly realizing how hungry she was and the fact that she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, she abruptly sat down at the captain's desk and picked up one of the succulent slices of fruit.  She looked at the foreign object curiously before turning to Mimi.  "Have you eaten yet?"

"Yes, m'lady.  I've been awake for hours.  I heard you stirring from the next cabin and knew my services would soon be needed."

Chloe shook her head in amazement.  She had thought she was so quiet and yet Mimi had heard her through a wall.  She turned to the bed to see Belle finally blinking her heavy lidded eyes against the sun.  Knowing her friend's penchant for waking slowly, Chloe turned back to her breakfast, taking one cautious bite of the new food substance.  The fruit had barely to touch her lips when her eyes rolled back in ecstasy and a small moan of contentment escaped her lips.  "This is heaven!  What is this?"

Mimi grinned, only too aware of how good the exotic fruits tasted, especially on a starved stomach.  "It's papaya, Lady Chloe, one of the fruits common in this part of the world."  She tried not to think of Jason's lips saying the same words to her just the night before, tried not to think of the deep sound of his voice, or the strange tremors he was able to inspire in her body with no effort at all. 

"Belle, you've got to try this!" Chloe squealed, all thoughts of letting Belle wake as best pleased her friend forgotten in the face of her new discovery.  She grabbed another piece of the fruit for herself and one for Belle and darted across the room to wave it temptingly in front of Belle's still drowsy face. 

Belle only blinked in confusion, as if trying to process where she was and what was going on.  Then, with a flash, the whole nightmarish experience settled in on her once more; and she buried her head back in the pillow miserably.  "I'm not hungry," she murmured, though her words were muffled.

"Yes, you are, Belle," Chloe insisted, in a softer tone as she saw her friend's depressed state.  "Come on, Belle.  Just a taste.  You must be starving by now.  You've barely eaten this whole voyage."  When Belle still refused with only a shake of her head, Chloe looked over to Mimi for help. 

Without a word, Mimi came and took Chloe's place by her mistress's side.  "Lady Isabelle, you must eat.  You'll need your strength."  She spoke in soothing tones, as if to a child, while she stroked back the baby fine blonde hair.  "It will all be all right.  But you have to eat."

Belle turned her face back to the light, clinging to her maid's hand as if to life itself.  "I'll eat, Mimi.  But first, I want to know where Papa is.  Where is he, Mimi?  Can you take me to him?"  Her angelic face reflected her honest fear that something horrible had happened to the father who was her last link with the safety she had always known.

"I'll find out where he is, my lady," Mimi promised.  "But first, you both need to eat and dress.  Then, I'll have Jan attend to you while I find out where his lordship is.  Don't worry, my lady.  Your father will be fine, just fine."

~~*~~

Lady Chloe Wesley was feeling more than a little restless.  Being stuck in a practically airless cabin with a friend who was incapable of any conversation not bemoaning the state of their lives and an indolent, disrespectful maid wasn't exactly her idea of a great time.  She thought enviously of Mimi, who was out making a full tour of the ship in an effort to discover where Lord Black was being held.  She wished she had thought to go with her.

Belle released a sigh of frustration as she watched her tall, elegant friend pacing furiously back and forth across the small cabin.  Belle couldn't understand how Chloe could even bear to walk in one of those awful dresses.  She smoothed down the pile of blue satin surrounding her, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in the odd gown.  Chloe barely seemed to register the fact that she was wearing at least twenty pounds of extra weight in that Spanish gown of deep purple.  She simply scowled her boredom at no one in general, while Belle looked on with tear-stained eyes and Jan occupied herself with intently studying her reflection in the scarlet dress of a Spanish Infantata through a small mirror on the captain's wall. 

Chloe suddenly stopped her frantic walk to gaze speculatively at her oldest, dearest friend.  "Belle, wouldn't you like to go up on deck for a while to get some air?  It will be so good for you.  The sea air is the most strengthening substance I've ever encountered.  Besides, it will give us both a distraction."

Baby blue eyes widened in horror as Belle listened to the outrageous suggestion.  "But…but Chloe, there are pirates out there!  What if they attack us?  Besides, aren't we supposed to stay in the cabin?  That's what Mr. Masters told us yesterday." 

Chloe barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Belle's childish fears.  "No one will touch us, Belle.  The captain promised your father we'd be safe, remember?  And I've been given permission to go wherever I like on the ship."  She sat down next to Belle on the bed, forming a veritable wave of material around them both.  "Come on, Belle.  Let's have an adventure!"

Belle only shook her head in dismay at Chloe's rebellious streak.  She'd seen slight evidences of it before.  Times at school when Chloe wasn't above sneaking out after hours simply to run in the moor, or playing a nasty joke on fellow students she didn't much care for.  But this was the first time she would classify that streak of wildness as dangerous.  And it was the first time she'd known Chloe not to try and keep it hidden.  Never having had an ounce of rebellion in her, Belle answered quite calmly.  "I've had more than enough of an adventure for one lifetime, Chloe.  All I want now is to make it to Jamaica…and Shawn…in one piece, and I think the chances of that happening are much better if I simply stay in this room."

"Belle, I'm telling you, nothing will happen to us," Chloe pressed on, confident in her ability to make Belle come around.  The two girls were used to being able to convince the other of anything if they had their mind set on it.  "We'll all go in a group and simply take a turn around the ship's deck.  Think of it, Belle.  The wind in your hair, breathing in the fresh sea air, listening to the lapping of the water, feeling the sun on your back…"

"Don't mention the sun to me!" Belle interrupted fiercely, with a pointed touch to her red nose.  In the time she'd spent outdoors the day before, she'd managed to turn the color of a ripe apple.  Her milk white skin had been much more susceptible to the sun's rays than her darker complexioned friends. 

Chloe groaned in defeat.  "Fine," she huffed, flouncing back farther against the bed.  "What shall we do then?  There's absolutely nothing to occupy us down here."

"Why don't you go then?" Belle snapped irritably.  If Chloe refused to see sense and wouldn't sympathize with Belle in their captivity, then Lady Isabelle didn't much care to have her around.  "But I'm staying here."

"Fine," Chloe remarked again, with effort pushing back the folds of her dress enough to stand.  Seeing her mistress about to leave, Jan immediately got to her feet as well, also dying to escape the oppressive cabin.  Chloe glared at her.  Her patience already having been tried by Belle, she was in no mood to deal with a maid she knew hated her.  "You may stay with Lady Black, Jan.  She'll need you in case she gets sick again."

"You can't mean to go wandering about a ship of murderers by yourself, my lady?" Jan asked, in an appalled voice, more horrified by the idea of being forced to spend an afternoon in the company of the hopelessly bland Belle Black than by Chloe's breaking of social etiquette. 

Chloe lifted her chin haughtily and graced her maid with a withering stare that clearly showed what she thought of Jan's impertinence.  "I'll do as I please, Jan.  I'm going above.  You're staying here. The matter is closed."  She threw one last glance over her shoulder at Belle, who once again had wells of tears in her eyes.  Pity tugged at Chloe's heart, but she'd never been good at comforting people, not like Mimi.  "I'll see if I can find some more pineapple for you, Belle," she offered, as her way of making up.  That had been Belle's favorite of the fruits. 

Belle graced her friend with a watery smile in gratitude.  They never could stay angry with each other for very long, especially not in a situation like this.  "Thank you, Chloe.  I think I'll take a nap while you and Mimi are both gone anyway.  Maybe I'll feel better after I get some sleep."

"Sweet dreams," Chloe returned softly before making her way out of the cabin.  She felt better the moment the door shut behind her.  She had never done well with confinement, even in school.  Chloe needed freedom of movement to make up for the restraints she always placed around her spirit.  Of course, even those restraints seemed to be fading the farther away she got from the shores of England.  It was easy to forget about the rules that had always bound her when whichever way she looked she saw nothing but the endless ocean.

With that image floating before her brain, she once again made her way to the deck, eager to feast her eyes again on the blue depths that had so completely captured her imagination and her heart.  On her way, she passed several members of the pirate crew, but none she recognized, and not the one she told herself she didn't want to see.  These were the rabble that had so offended her eyes and nostrils the first moment she stepped aboard deck.  They didn't improve upon closer inspection. 

A dart of fear passed through her the first time she had to pass by one of them.  Despite herself, she felt a wave of nausea at the leering look in his eyes.  But evidently, the captain hadn't lied about the pirates leaving them alone, for the man simply bobbed his head in an awkward sign of deference and let her go on her way unmolested.  She encountered similar reactions from practically every man she went by.  Some even went so far as to attempt a sweeping bow or a greeting of "G'day, lady." 

After a few minutes, Chloe forgot to be afraid and simply made her way to the rail to look out on the relatively calm seas that stretched to the horizon.  She didn't know how long she'd stood there until a slight commotion among the crew made her turn to observe them.  It didn't take her long to notice they were all looking up at one particular tower of rigging. 

Shielding her eyes against the sun, Chloe followed their line of vision to the man making his way deftly up the treacherous ropes.  Bare feet allowed him better grip on the rigging, and his black leather breeches clung to the powerful muscles in his legs.  He wore no shirt, and his bronzed, muscled chest was exposed to the lady's shocked yet captivated eyes.  The black bandana wrapped around his hair and the upper half of the face would have given away his identity, even if the sudden increase of her heart rate hadn't.  An occasional glint around his face confused her, until she realized that he was carrying a knife in his mouth. 

Breathless, she looked beyond his progress to see the reason for his climb.  At the very height of the ship's reach, a gull was trapped and fluttering helplessly against the ropes.  "All this for a bird," she muttered ungraciously, fear for his safety making her even more ill-tempered. 

"He has to let it out, miss," a wizened old one-legged pirate by her side informed her after overhearing her statement.  The ropes could tear if it struggles too much, and the rigging would come crashing down.  Not to mention, it's not too good for the bird either."  He chuckled a little at his own joke.  But Chloe barely heard a word out of his mouth, so intent was she on watching Captain Blackheart's every move.  Her heart was in her throat as she watched him ascend to the top and begin untangling the animal.  A sudden cheer went up among the crew as the gull took flight. 

The captain turned to grin and wave down at his men, his motions stilling as his eyes encountered the lady watching him, with her hand to her breast.  He grinned as he took hold of one of the ropes and slid back down to the ground effortlessly.  Ignoring the congratulations of the men gathered round he made his way towards the rail where his lady awaited, her rapid pulse clearly visible in the lines of her throat.  He smirked down at her.  "You weren't worried now, were you, my lady?"

Confronted with the gleaming, solid chest, the laughingly glowing crystal eyes behind the black mask, the irresistible curve of his perfect mouth, any clever retort Chloe might have made died on her lips; and she stood there gawking at him, forgetting all thoughts forever of what was expected of her.  Nothing mattered beyond the man before her and the feelings he alone could inspire.

~~*~~

Mimi was quickly becoming familiar with every facet and area of the ship, but she had yet to find any trace of Belle's father…or of Jase Masters, though she refused to admit that she was more eager to see him than she could ever be to encounter Lord Black.  She justified any thoughts of him as the knowledge that he would be guarding Lord Black, and she'd have to face him again. 

Not that this was something she was dreading, she reflected, angry at herself.  She knew better than to let her fancy be taken by a rogue like him.  She wanted more from her life.  And as long as she kept telling herself this, she felt there was some small chance of keeping her virtue and her heart intact.  Of course, that voice in her head tended to be drowned out whenever she was in his presence.  That could be problematic.

Finally encountering a door she didn't think she'd been through before, Mimi stopped her rambling thoughts and feet.  "This had better be it," she mumbled under her breath, more than ready to have this search over with.  With that thought in mind, her hands fumbled for the catch of the door and shoved it open. 

A small gasp escaped her lips as she felt sharp, cold steel pressed against the fine line of her throat.