Moonlight on the Caribbean
Chapter Fourteen
Fortutos and guamos, sea shell trumpets, let out welcoming blasts as the vessel entered the bay. People lined the tropical shoreline, waving frantically in welcome. Equal excitement was evident aboard ship, where it was all the crew could do to restrain the natives on deck from jumping off and swimming to land. The pirates kept gesturing to the smaller boats which would be used to transport everyone to shore, but to no avail. To people so long at sea—mostly in captivity—the gleaming golden sand seemed like paradise. The strangers calling to them had become as dear as family, through their brown skin and familiar language. One after another the men on deck made the perilous half-mile swim to land. The pirates gave up trying to forestall them once they saw them arrive safely on terra firma. They began to laugh and shout encouragements to the men in the water.
Brady and Jason watched the scene with a mixture of amusement and relief. Yet again, they had successfully brought slaves to freedom. This was by no means their first journey to this island. Ever since purchasing the Vengeance, they had made periodic stops here, to this small, mountainous, previously uninhabited island, until a large colony of escaped Spanish captives from all over the globe had gathered here. English pirates, tortured as heretics, intermingled freely with Caribbean natives deprived of their homeland and African slaves, sold away from theirs. If there was one thing the two hardened men were proud of, it was this haven they had created.
"They'll want to have a banquet as usual," Jason remarked, as the ship dropped anchor just outside the coral reef surrounding the island. The smaller dinghies and canoas from shore would be used to carry the remaining natives—mainly those too weak to swim—the rest of the way to land. "Are we going to attend?"
"Why not?" shrugged Brady, the first genuine smile in weeks crossing over his face. "Consider it our own last supper, Jase."
Jason shot his captain a guarded, searching look out of the corner of his eye. "You think Shawn is closing in on us?"
"Unless I've underestimated him all these years, I'm sure of it. He's a good soldier, Jase. Not to mention we have abducted his fiancé. He'll feel betrayed and angry and determined to prove himself. Yes, I would be very surprised if he didn't catch up to us within the week—and that's if we didn't stop here."
"But we are going to make things easier on him." Jason finished Brady's unspoken reasoning before looking grimly out to sea. He had known before they took the Dolphin it would be his death warrant, but then he had been unafraid of death. He had nothing to live for. Now, he had found one overwhelming reason to hold onto life.
Brady and Jason were as close as brothers, so it came as no surprise when Brady read his thoughts. "You know, Jase, I've been thinking," the captain began slowly, not bothering to look at his friend. "There's really no reason for you to come with us when we leave here tonight. You could stay on this island with Mimi and start a whole new life for yourself. At least some good should come of all this."
"Some good already has," Jason replied, nodding towards the first boat headed to shore. Hawk and Ty were rowing a pregnant woman and her four children to their new home. "But I won't leave you. You know that. We started together. We'll end together."
Brady tried not to show how moved he was by his first mate's loyalty. "And Mimi?" he asked gruffly, to cover.
Jason's eyes narrowed as he tried to block out some of the glaring Caribbean midday sun. All the men had removed their shirts, but they were still sweltering under its unforgiving heat. "Mimi will live a long, safe, happy life without me…or at least that's what I keep telling myself."
"Yeah," Brady grunted in reply, his thoughts immediately going to Chloe. He had been trying to convince himself of the same logic regarding her for days now, but all he had to do was picture Philip Kiriakis' smarmy, arrogant face, and his theories fell to pieces. How could Chloe, full of such fire and passion, ever be happy with such a flaccid husband?
"Are we going to take them to the feast as well?" Jason was asking when Brady forced himself back to attention.
Brady considered the safety aspects for a moment before chuckling as he pictured Chloe's reaction to being left behind. "I think we'll have to, if we want a ship to return to. Besides, I don't think there is much to worry about here, do you?"
"Nah," Jason returned flippantly. "Considering we saved the lives of all the people there, we're pretty safe. You could probably even take your—Lord Black." He quickly checked his speech as Winters walked past.
"Not a bad idea. That way Kev can go too. I think he's tired of playing nanny to a fifty year old man." He grinned, remembering the raucousness of previous island celebrations. It might satiate even Chloe's thirst for excitement. "I'll get them now."
Jason waited for his captain to leave before traveling to the railing, watching the progress of the disembarking Ara'guacu'. Boat after boat made trips to the shore and back, joined by canoes from the island, as they rowed the natives to freedom. It was a familiar scene to him, from previous ventures, but this time, he received a feeling of contentment from it he hadn't before. Something had always been missing.
"Does it bother you?" The soft voice spoke up, disrupting Jason's reverie.
He didn't turn from the rail, as she took her place beside him. He studied the joyful celebrations taking place on shore, even caught shouts of Taino wafting to the boat. A wistful smile crossed his face. "It used to, seeing them all so happy when I couldn't save her." He didn't explain further but wrapped his arm around Mimi's waist, still watching the shoreline. "But I'm at peace now. Everyone is entitled to grab their measure of happiness while they can."
His last words settled heavily on Mimi. She understood what he left unsaid. Their time was ending. She wanted to scream like a child at the unfairness of it. Surely, after all they'd been through to find each other, they deserved more than a scant few weeks. Almost unconsciously, she moved closer to him, leaning her head against his broad shoulders. Her gaze drifted along the miles of sand, the waves rolling over it in reckless abandon. "It's beautiful here. A pity we can't stay."
Jason's eyes closed heavily. He couldn't handle her lightly-spoken words. They brought to life tantalizing temptations he had to turn away from. He could not—would not—betray his friend. He couldn't live with himself, even on an island paradise with the girl of his dreams, if it came at the cost of Brady's life. "Well, you'll get to set foot on it at least. The captain went to get Lord Black and the ladies. We are all going ashore for a guake'te, a celebratory festival."
Mimi pulled away to look up at him, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, Belle will be so pleased! I've been so worried about how she would react when the last of the natives disembark. This will ease the parting for her. And I must admit I'm not opposed to setting foot on solid ground again."
The pirate chuckled at her excitement, allowing her bright smile to send his dark mood away. "I'll warn you in advance, it takes a moment to get your balance again. If you try to run on that sand, you'll fall flat on your pretty little face."
Mimi wrinkled her nose. "I might welcome even that right now. Anything for a change."
Their conversation was disrupted by the sound of footsteps climbing the ladder, and the emergence of their companions. Mimi abruptly jumped away from Jason, fearing another dressing down from Lord Black. She needn't have worried. The viscount was far too occupied in blinking his way back to recognition of sunlight and walking again after so long in cramped quarters. Belle and the captain had assumed supportive positions to either side of him, ready to aid him at a moment's notice, while Kevin and Jan stayed a few steps behind. Chloe, on the other hand, glanced immediately over to the couple upon ascending the deck. She grinned knowingly, and Mimi felt the telltale blush rise in her cheeks.
A bustle of activity ensued, and Mimi thought it hours—though in reality, no more than twenty minutes—before they were settled in two small canoas and being rowed to shore. She sat behind Jason and watched the smooth, rippling motion of the muscles in his back as he brought the oars up and down in a never-ceasing rhythm. The boat seemed barely to move, so streamlined was its shape and so fluid and sure were Jason's strokes. Mimi tried not to gawk, but it was impossible as a drop of perspiration made its slow, sultry way down the indentation at the center of his spine. She licked her lips hungrily, trying to suppress the urge to do everything she had forbidden herself to do long before she met him.
Watching him move was doing nothing for her self-control, so she forced her eyes to consider other things. First, she directed them to the paddles as they made their flowing motion through the clear water, leaving white bubbles in their wake. But looking at the path the canoe was cutting only brought her mind—and eyes—back to the person responsible for their progress. No, she must regain her poise. She glanced over at the other boat, thinking perhaps a glimpse of Belle's angelic face would be enough to remind her of her dignity. Unfortunately, she noticed Lady Chloe instead, whose attention was raptly focused on Captain Blackheart's own tan, chiseled physique. With a sigh of surrender, Mimi returned to her fixated study of Jason. Truly, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon.
~~*~~
It was with regret Chloe felt the boat strike land. She had been enjoying her uninterrupted view of Brady's body. It had been remarkably easy to tune out John and Belle's conversation; the hundred or more people pulling the canoe inland and swarming them were another matter entirely. Belle looked happier than Chloe had ever seen her as native women anointed her with shell necklaces and wreaths of flowers. Before Chloe had even put a foot on shore, her friend was being dragged to the village amongst a gaggle of giggling girls.
"Is she going to be all right?" Chloe asked Brady, almost shouting to be heard over the noise of the crowd. "Shouldn't we go with her?"
Brady laughed, and Chloe reflected with a queer sort of churning in her stomach that it was the first time she had heard him laugh without the customary tinge of bitterness. "She'll be fine. They love her, remember?" Without seeming effort, he jumped to his feet and out of the boat, extending his hand down to Chloe. "My lady." Only the mischievous glint in his eyes belied his formality.
Chloe accepted the gesture, permitting him to help her onto the beach. She felt the sand sink beneath her feet and marveled at its strange texture. She was seized by a desire to tear off her shoes and stockings and run barefoot through it. Quickly fighting this urge—as she generally did with the whisperings of her rebellious spirit—she docilely waited for Lord Black to join them. Her first steps proved to be a mistake however, as she felt her legs give way.
Brady's arms were around her almost before she began to falter. He chuckled, the sound low and throaty, and Chloe knew again the disquieting, intoxicating warmth of his presence. "Still making you weak in the knees, am I?" he whispered, so only she could hear.
She flushed, pushing away from his loose hold on her body. "I'm going to go find Belle," she announced, more for Lord Black's benefit than his son's.
John looked more amused than anything else. "You do that, my dear," he drawled with deceptive innocence.
Without daring another glance at Brady, Chloe marched across the sand to pull Mimi—despite her protests—away from Jason, on the search for their friend.
John was still trying to stifle his laughter when Brady turned towards him. "You certainly have a way with her, Captain. I don't think I have seen Chloe display so much emotion since…well, ever."
A sardonic half-smile curved Brady's lips as he watched her retreat into the safety of the eracra, the village's women's quarters. "No, she's always had fire in her. She always will too." Unless Philip bores it out of her, he added silently.
The viscount graced him with a searching look. Granted, the mask made it difficult, but he was developing a capacity for reading this self-contained young man—his son. "You…care for her then?" It was barely a question.
His jaw was made of flint, and his eyes as well, as he turned to fully face his father. "It hardly matters what I feel, Your Lordship."
Lord Black wanted to press the matter further, but Jason came over to them, inviting them to join the other men in a game of batey, a sacred ball game played in a plaza of the same name. Blackheart set off at once. Reluctantly, the older man followed.
~~*~~
They would not all meet again until feast time. While the men took part in ceremonial activities—including the cohoba smoking ceremony—the women prepared the feast. Chloe, Mimi, Belle, and Jan watched as a fire was lit under the barbacoa, a four-legged stand, set up for roasting. The smell of barbicu' pig wafted through the village, making them ravenous. The local women then demonstrated the precise art of making casabi bread, and before long, the English girls were learning to extract the poison from the precious Yuca brava with the aid of the cibuca'n.
Before long, they were hot, miserable, and sweaty in their thirty pounds of clothes. Even Mimi's alterations could not save them from having to wear dresses, petticoats, corsets, stockings, and thick, narrow-toed boots. They watched the native girls enviously, as they moved lightly and unfettered in their white cotton inaguas. What they wouldn't give for such luxury!
But their sweltering agony came to an end when some of the women noticed their red faces and sweat-soaked bodies. They were dragged away from the preparations and led to a roundhouse, with cool baths and a soap called digo. They could hardly wait to take turns to clean themselves; it had been so long since they had been granted the privilege. Aboard ship, they had had to content themselves with using part of their daily water rations to wash their faces, necks, and hands. They were also each gifted with their own thin, white dress and pair of sandals. It was proof of how hot she was that even Belle couldn't be bothered to worry about the propriety of the revealing garment and slipped into hers with a sigh of relief.
Chloe thought no gown of satin could compare to the luxurious feel of this homespun garb against her skin. It fell only to her knees, gently hugging all the curves of her body. She felt the breeze brush against her skin and shivered with delight. Emboldened, she released her hair, allowing it to hang wild and free down her back as the natives did. She wove an aromatic purple flower into her hair behind her ear, and her liberation was complete. Any last trace of Lady Chloe Wesley, affianced wife of Philip Kiriakis, was dead and gone. She was someone new now, someone wild and free, who didn't have to ignore the pull of her heart.
Mimi saw the familiar gleam enter Chloe's eyes and shook her head. What was the point of all her words of wisdom if Chloe was not even making an attempt to heed them? Though, she reflected with chagrin, she had not been making any effort to stay pure these past few weeks. Jason could take more credit for her virtue than she could, by never pushing for more. She wasn't sure she could have said no if he had.
She knew she couldn't when she met him again at the feast that night. Her eyes met his over the blazing light of the bonfire, and she felt heat flood her entire body. The way he looked at her was more intense than anything she had ever dreamed. She had made a special effort to look lovely. She felt fresh and clean from her bath, and her hair rested gingerly on her shoulders in thick, sun-bleached waves. Her head was wreathed in delicate white blooms, giving her an almost regal appearance, like some Greek goddess, or the famed Helen of Troy, whose beauty launched a thousand ships and brought down an empire. And he was looking at her like that. The flush to her cheeks most definitely had nothing to do with the fire.
Her breath caught as he rose slowly, deliberately from his seat. With the shadow and flame flickering against his painted skin, he looked almost primal. Her feet seemed frozen to the spot, as she thought he would come to her. But he did not. Rather, he moved to the table where the feast was laid out and piled one of the wooden plates with fruits and delicacies. He made another stop to retrieve a bowl of something, and all Mimi could do was watch, breathless, every move he made. He was beautiful to look at. She had never thought of men as beautiful before, but he was. Something about his virile presence was going to her head, making her feel dizzy. She longed for nothing more than to escape the raucous noise of the crowd and let more cooling thoughts come to her fevered brain.
She almost thought Jason had sensed her thoughts as he finally approached her. Balancing the tray and cup in one hand, he used his other to close around her elbow and usher her away from the festivities. "Come," was all he said, and Mimi, her arm tingling from his touch, was helpless to do anything but obey.
He ushered her to one of the roundhouses, empty as everyone else was celebrating. The one-room house was dark, except for the rays of the fire which sometimes reached even here. It was silent, as well, so silent that Mimi could hear her own accelerated breathing. She felt she was on the brink of something, something she had been running from her entire life but now could find no desire to flee. All her thoughts and emotions were focused only on Jason, watching as he put the plate down on the solitary table in the hut, moistening her lips as she observed him drink deeply from the bowl.
Jason noticed that gesture and smiled. He closed the distance between them, cradling the bowl in both hands. Mimi inhaled deeply of the liquor's sweet scent. "It's mabi'. Would you like some?"
The best Mimi could manage was a weak nod. Rather than handing the bowl to her, Jason lifted it gently to her lips. Her eyes widened as the first refreshing drops entered her mouth. It caused a slight burning sensation on the way down, but it made Mimi's whole body seem to come alive with fire. She felt her toes tingle. She would have urgently lapped more of the intoxicating brew, but Jason laughed and pulled it away from her.
"That's enough, Mimi. I want to be the one to put that look in your eyes, not alcohol." Before she could even process the full weight of that statement, Jason had backed away from her. As though distantly, she heard the music begin, the drums, and the strings, and the chanting. It was exotic and bewitching, and it made her heart start beating in its wild rhythm. She barely heard the clunk as Jason set down the bowl and reached for something on the plate. She noticed it was the fruit he had introduced her to on their first night aboard the Vengeance. She remembered well the sour, tangy juice of pineapple. Her mouth watered merely staring at it.
Jason appeared in no hurry to satisfy her craving. He laughed huskily, sending shivers down her spine that did indeed rival those produced by the mabi'. "I didn't forget your fondness for anana."
Mimi could only assume that was the Taino word for pineapple. She didn't care anymore what it meant. She was too enchanted with the way the word ruled off his tongue, smooth as butter, sweet as candy. Her mouth dropped open a little, giving Jason just the opportunity he wanted. The gap between them once again melted away, as he inserted the rich fruit into her mouth. The slice was too big, and while she savored the sensation of her bite, the juice of it trickled down onto her lips and chin.
Embarrassed, she raised her hand to wipe it off, but Jason caught her hand mid-air and brought it back down to her side. "Allow me," he said smoothly and dropped his grip on her hand to raise his fingers to her face. She inhaled sharply as his thumb reached out to wipe away every last trace of the fruit from her lips. He took his time, leisurely teasing her lips with his touch. Mimi's eyes closed and unwillingly a small moan escaped her lips.
This action apparently only encouraged him, because she felt another piece of anana enter her mouth. Slowly, she turned it over and over in her mouth, digesting the heavenly taste. It was impossible to keep the juice from leaking out, and this time, Jason found a new way to torture her. His tongue swept over her lips, bit by bit, one at a time, licking up the sweet drops of moisture on her mouth. Mimi's body was betraying her; her knees felt weak, and she wanted to collapse into his arms. But instead, she pulled away, resisting.
Jason looked surprised at her withdrawal. She smiled reassuringly at him, and then looked beyond him, an unknowingly feline curve coming to her mouth. Barely knowing what she was doing, unwilling to question her motives or consider her virtue, she had been swept away into the very situation she had warned Chloe so strenuously against. The drums seemed to beat louder, rattling her very bones, as she stepped around Jason and crossed to the table. It was her turn to tease.
Feigning a nonchalance she didn't feel, she picked up the bowl of mabi' and turned to face him again. Jason merely raised an eyebrow in question. Mimi smiled, offering him the drink in the same manner he had, lifting it with both hands to his face. She allowed him to sip from it, although his eyes never left hers. As she pulled it away, however, she poured a trickle down the contoured lines of his chest. Jason appeared shocked, but she merely giggled and echoed his words back to him. "Allow me."
Her boldness came from someplace deep inside her, someplace she had tried to deny she even had. It was base instinct that brought her head down to slowly trail her lips along the path the liquor was taking. She bent and swirled her tongue around his nipple and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure. Mimi was smiling as she moved her ministrations to his other side, and then down along the well-defined rows of his abdomen. His skin was hot and solid, and he tasted like fire and fruit and desire.
She was unprepared for the suddenness with which he yanked her to her feet. "Do you know what you do to me?" he cried almost viciously, right before his lips claimed hers with bruising force. He had kissed her many times over the past few weeks, but never had he seemed to conquer her as he did now. Mimi's moan was captured by his greedy mouth as he violently plunged his tongue inside hers. She felt herself being pushed backwards into the wall and stumbled, only to have his hands close around her upper thighs and pull her off the ground. Still acting on instinct, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, startled by the feeling of him hard and ready beneath her. It prompted another moan from her lips, and an answering one from his own.
There was something almost frantic in their heated exchange. They both knew that time was running short for them, that this night might be the only one they would ever have. Perhaps it was this fear that made Mimi succumb to forces she spent her whole life fighting. Her hands worked themselves deep into his sandy hair, digging into his scalp, as she matched his tongue, stroke for stroke. Her back was against the wall, her head a few inches above his as he pinned her there seemingly effortlessly. Jason's hands had traveled even higher, dragging her dress with them, and still she had no objections to make. His hips bucked against her in simulation of what was to come, and she tore her mouth away from his with a whimper of desire.
He buried his face in her neck, his teeth gently nipping at her sensitive skin. She trembled against him, the ache within her growing, making her wet. She didn't care anymore about her mother's history, about all she had learned of men growing up on the docks. All that mattered was Jason, and this need inside her, a need only he could fill. Jason's mouth reclaimed hers, and she was lost to all else but him. Until…
"Mimi?" Belle's voice called from the doorway, and then she froze. Her always pale face drained of color and her mouth dropped open, as she saw her maid pressed up against the wall of a reed hut, her dress pushed nearly to her waist, and a pirate in her arms. Mimi and Jason broke apart almost at once. Mimi's feet touched the ground, as she tried to smooth her dress down. But it was too late. The damage had been done.
"E-excuse me," the lady stammered, as the color climbed again into her cheeks, turning them a brilliant crimson. "I…I d-didn't know." There was so much she didn't know, obviously. "I'll leave now." Woodenly, she made herself turn around and exit the house.
"Lady Black, wait!" Mimi cried, sense returning to her, as she tried to take after her mistress. Jason caught her arm, and she turned back to him, fury radiating from her eyes.
"Let her go, Mimi. You have to let her go."
Mimi stood defiant for a few moments more, before reality set in, and she crumpled into his arms, weeping tears of humiliation and misery. Belle would never understand.
~~*~~
Belle's mind was numb as she ran unseeing through the crowd and down to the beach. She couldn't think. She couldn't see. All there was for her was the emblazoned image of Mimi and Jason as they had been, of her trusted maid and friend willingly and passionately returning the embraces of one of their captors. She thought she was going to be ill as she stumbled and fell onto the sand, bitter salt tears stinging her eyes. Her hands dug deep into the ground, while her eyes rose to stare at the vast shimmering sky, as if she would find the answers written in the stars.
Nothing in her sheltered lifetime had prepared Lady Belle Black for what she had just seen. She had heard all the vicars preaching from their pulpits of the evils of fornication. She had been taught from birth that a woman's most priceless possession was her virtue. She had believed it all, every last word, and had looked on the inevitability of marital relations as something not to be thought about, to be pushed from one's mind in order to stay pure. To her, marriage had meant a sort of playing house, with Shawn as her adoring admirer. She had never thought it would entail…that.
What struck her as most wrong about what she had seen was that Mimi didn't seem to be in pain, was not frightened by the loss of virtue. Indeed, until she had seen Belle and become embarrassed, she had been—dare Belle think it?—enjoying the pirate's caresses. He wasn't even her husband!
The world had gone insane. That was all there was to it, Belle decided. Ever since they had left the predictable safety of England, everyone around her had been slowly going mad. Or was everyone else sane, while she was the misguided one? She didn't know. Once she would have known. When her world made sense, she would have been able to denounce her maid with absolute certainty as a fallen woman, an evil harlot. But this was Mimi; her best friend, the person who took care of her when she was sick, and held her while she cried. Mimi wasn't evil. But then, was everything she had learned on her mother's knee wrong? She couldn't make herself believe that either. It would shatter the whole system her life was built upon…and that system was all she had left.
"Lady Black?" came a concerned voice, as she heard footsteps behind her on the beach. "Are you all right?"
Angrily, she brushed away the remnants of her tears and forced herself to her feet. She turned around to face him, her normally kind face ablaze with fury. "This is all your fault! If it weren't for you and your…men," she spat out the last word, "none of this would be happening. I would still have my best friends. They would still have their…this is your fault!!"
The captain took a step backwards from the force of her fury. He had seen in Belle's care of the people on ship that she was not the fragile doll they had originally assumed her to be. But this…where was this anger coming from? "Is something wrong, my lady?"
She hated that his voice was so gentle, that his body language spoke of concern rather than affront, that he seemed comforting, not intimidating. She hated that she liked and trusted him, with no logical reason for it. It would be so much easier to hate him, to blame him for everything that was topsy-turvy in her life, but she could not. Deep inside, she knew whatever was happening with Mimi and Chloe, it was because they wanted it to. They wanted to be the very thing that frightened Belle most. She was losing them because of it.
"No, nothing's wrong," she answered dully, her shoulders sagging in defeat, as the last of her anger left her. "Nothing is wrong. I'm fine. I'll be fine."
She saw Blackheart's frown, and it was consoling somehow. He seemed to actually care about her. "Are you sure, m'lady? You seemed angry just now."
Belle could not find the heart to reply. For perhaps the first time in her life, she committed the sin of not answering a direct question. She shrugged her shoulders, as any common girl would do and didn't care.
His expression grew even darker. "You said it was my fault," he commented, when it became clear she was not going to answer. "You said you were losing your friends, and it was my fault. I fail to understand, my lady."
"Don't tell me that," Belle uncharacteristically snapped at him. "I'm not as blind as everyone likes to think. I'm not stupid, Captain. I know something is going on between you and Chloe, and Mimi and Mr. Masters. Don't you see? Don't you understand it will ruin them?"
Even in the night, she could see his jaw tense. The waning moon cast strange shadows on his face, and his eyes seemed a queer silvery blue. "Your worry is unjustified, Lady. Soon, both you and your friends will be safely on your way to Jamaica…and with your own fiancé, I am sure."
She blanched at his mention of Shawn. "How do you know that? How do you even know about Shawn? You know nothing! You don't know that he's coming for me; you don't even know if he loves me."
The masked man chuckled, the sound making her jump in its suddenness. "There may not be many things I can say with certainty, Lady Black, but I can tell you without a doubt that Shawn Douglas Brady loves you. I've heard it from his own lips."
Belle started again, her eyes raking over him suspiciously. "How do you know Shawn?"
He waved her question away, as though it were a mosquito bothering him. "I have no doubt he will explain when you see him again." He took a step closer to her, and strangely, she felt no fear as he placed strong hands on her shoulders and lowered his head to meet her gaze. The gesture was strangely reminiscent of her father. "And you will see him again, my lady. I promise you. All of this will soon be no more than a memory. You need not worry for yourself or your friends. Everything will be as it was."
Listening to the calm certainty of Blackheart's voice, she wanted to believe him, but the image of Mimi and Jason flashed again before her eyes. Belle stepped away, shaking her head. "You're wrong, Captain. Even if, as you say, we go on with our journey as planned, nothing will ever go back to the way it was. You've changed all that was supposed to be…for all of us."
Before he even had time to try deciphering her cryptic statement, Belle had taken off again, back to the safety of the crowded feast. People were dancing now, around the fire, to the beat of the drums, but she did not notice. Her eyes combed the gathering for her father, and when she saw him, she rushed to throw herself in his arms. John, shocked momentarily, nevertheless held her to him. "Are you all right, Izzy?"
Chloe, who had been sitting beside him, looked even more distressed. What had happened to make her normally upbeat friend so upset? She nervously reached out a hand to stroked back Belle's blonde hair. "Belle, tell us what happened. Did someone hurt you?"
Belle pulled away from her friend's touch and back from her father's shoulder. She wiped away the tears which had sprung unwillingly to her eyes. Her eyes pleaded with her father, and he seemed to understand her need to be alone with him.
"Chloe, would you mind allowing Belle and I a chance to talk?" he asked smoothly.
The young Lady Wesley looked from one to the other for a few seconds before shaking her head. "Of course not, Lord Black." She turned to her friend, pity in her eyes. "I'm here if you need me, Belle." She barely waited for Belle's nod of acknowledgement, before walking to the other side of the crowd and disappearing from sight.
Belle moved away from her father to take the seat Chloe had vacated, but she still kept a tight grip on his hand. He studied the worry lines on her face, the tense look in her eyes. "What's the matter, Izzy?" he asked again, in his cajoling way.
She shook her head, trying to find words for everything weighing on her mind. Finally, she had to look away, into the depths of the bonfire, before she could speak the words. "Everything's changing."
John thought he began to see what was bothering his daughter, but he allowed her to figure it out for herself. "Such as…?"
"Such as Mimi and Chloe," Belle ranted bitterly.
"Ah," was her father's knowing reply. "Are you sure they have changed so much, Izzy? I think perhaps you are rather beginning to notice that your friends are not like you, and they want different things from their lives than you want from yours."
"I don't know what I want anymore," Belle murmured so softly John had to lean forward to hear her.
He looked surprised. This he had not expected. "What do you mean, Izzy?"
The lady's gaze traveled the length of the village, seeing recognized faces from their journey intermingled with villagers. She was silent for a long time, and when she finally spoke, Lord Black had the distinct feeling she was not talking to him. "For the first time in my life, I felt useful. I helped these people, Papa. I don't…I don't want to leave them. What am I leaving them for anyway? For friends who don't need me, for a future husband I barely know, for a life I'm not even sure about. What is the point of it all?"
John gazed at his little girl in shock. With blinding clarity, he realized she was a little girl no longer. She was a woman now, but she was still his daughter, and she was hurting. Gently, he prodded her chin until she looked up at him. He saw tears in her baby blue eyes, and they almost broke him. "Do you love Shawn, my girl?"
"I…" Belle bit her lip, then looked down at the ruby ring on her finger, absently twisting it. She remembered Shawn's nervousness as he asked her, and his delight when she said yes. She remembered the sweet boyishness of his smile, and the blissful feeling of his kiss. "Yes, Papa, I love him," she declared, with increased confidence.
Lord Black breathed a sigh of relief. To have come all this way, only to face such a horrifying truth would have been devastating indeed. "Then, the rest will sort itself out as you go. I know…I know your mother and I never set you much of an example, but I do know what it is to love—"
"I know, I know. You loved Isabella and Brady," Belle snapped, causing her father to flinch. She took a calming breath. "I'm sorry, Papa, but I don't think I can handle hearing about them tonight. I know that I…that I never…"
Horrified, John pulled her to him in a fierce hug. "Izzy, I love you. I have always loved you. I'm sorry if I was not capable of telling you as much as I should have, but I do." He pulled away, and flicked her chin. "I only had one true love, and I only had one son, but I also only had one daughter, and you are as precious to me as either of them."
Tears flickered momentarily in Belle's eyes as she heard the words of validation she had waited her entire life for. Suddenly, the rest didn't seem so unbearable.
~~*~~
Chloe was at a loss what to do with herself when she left the Blacks. Her eyes searched the crowd for Mimi, but she caught her in a rather intense conversation with Jason and decided it was best not to interrupt. The frenzied crowd was beginning to wear on her nerves. How long could a celebration go on after all? Looking up, she caught the light of the moon and the fire of the stars. It drew her as always, and she found herself following the sound of the waves out to the beach. She wanted to lose herself in the wind and the water and the moonlight. The sounds of the banquet only reached here as a low rumbling in the background. The dominant sound was the rhythmic crash of the waves on the shore. Chloe found she liked it even more than the gentle lapping of water against the boat hull.
She was not surprised when she found Brady standing on the beach, looking out at the waves. It seemed natural that she would be drawn to where he was. It was being apart from him that was unnatural. His arms were crossed in front of him, and he seemed to be searching the horizon. She could feel the tension radiating out from him. Every well-defined muscle in his back, neck, and shoulders was strung to the breaking point.
She knew he heard her behind him, but he didn't turn around, even when she laid her gentle, soothing hands onto the taut muscles in his upper arms. In an effort to sooth him, she pressed her lips against the fevered skin of his back shoulder. "What are you thinking about?" Her tone was light and coaxing, as she tried to penetrate beneath his shell.
His right hand came up to close over her left hand, still on his arm. He gave it a squeeze. "You." He let his hand drop with a heavy sigh. "Belle. Shawn. My father. How much I want the sun not to come up tomorrow morning."
"Why?" The lightness was gone from her voice. It had acquired much of Brady's tension, plus a hint of her own fear. "What's going to happen tomorrow?"
"Nothing," Brady reassured her. "We are going to leave this island, that's all."
Chloe frowned. His reply was too smooth, too quick. "What else happens tomorrow, Brady? What aren't you telling me?"
He finally dragged his eyes away from the sea and turned to her. Her hands slipped down to rest on his lower back, while he reached up to cup her face. He kissed her lightly. "I'm just looking ahead, Chloe. I'm sure nothing will happen tomorrow…but after tomorrow, comes the next day, and the next, and the next." His fingers absentmindedly stroked the smooth surface of her skin. "I shouldn't dread it so much. Belle needs to be back with Shawn. That's the only way she'll feel safe."
His dark-haired lady watched him in silence for long moments, taking stock of his emotions as well as her own. Finally, she turned her face in order to kiss his palm. "What about what we need, Brady?" she whispered.
The pirate's whole façade of strength seemed to crumble with her softly spoken words. His hands dropped from her face, and he turned away again, trying to shut her out. "We knew it would be like this, Chloe. I told you—I warned you."
She couldn't bear to see him like this. In a moment, she had her arms wrapped about him from behind again. "I know. I know, Brady. I know what you're going to do, and why you're doing it." She brought her hands to his shoulders, exerting gentle pressure to turn him towards her, to make him see that she was still there and wasn't going anywhere. "You think you're not noble. You think I idealize you. But whatever you may have done in the past, this is noble. You are sacrificing yourself for your father and sister, even though you never knew them before now, even though they don't know who you are. I'm not trying to stop you. I would never stand in the way of what you think is right. But there's something you have to understand…whatever happens tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, I…I love you, Brady Black. That's what I need. I need you to know that."
He watched her in silence for a long time, so long that Chloe began to get nervous. She dropped her hand, and her gaze began to settle on the sand, which glowed white in the moonlight. "I…I didn't…don't expect you to—"
The rest of her attempt to backtrack would never be uttered, as Brady swept her close to him and rained showers of kisses upon her face. She felt the gentle love in him, more than the passion that had swept them away on the deck of the Vengeance so many weeks ago, and she returned his embrace with a longing that had nothing to do with her fiery spirit. It was rebellion no longer. It was…right.
Finally, he broke away, her face still cradled in his hands, their foreheads resting close together. "Chloe, I won't say those words to you," he said hoarsely, bringing Chloe's eye rushing to his in surprise. "I feel them, but I won't say them. You are not going to be bound to me in any way; do you understand? Once I am gone, you are free."
A sad, almost bitter, twist curved Chloe's naturally full lips. "I am free already, Brady, but I am bound to you in every way. I don't need your permission to feel what I feel—or not feel what I don't. I don't need you to protect my virtue either." There was a heavy, telling weight on her last sentence, as her eyes sparked their determination.
He read her intent and tried to intervene. "Chloe, I—"
She hushed him with a finger to his lips, which she quickly covered with her mouth. The gentle pressure increased, as she entwined her arms around him, pulling her body into contact with his. Her kiss became demanding. Chloe had always been passionate; tonight, she was desperate, desperate for one last chance to experience love.
He could feel every curve of her body through the thin dress she had been given, and it was affecting him in all the wrong ways in all the wrong places. His brain told him to push her away, while his heart and body were united in their mutiny. Without consent, his arms wrapped about her, pulling her even tighter, tight enough no one would ever be able to take her away from him. His Siren had called, and all around him might perish on the rocks, but he would survive.
Chloe pulled away suddenly, a soft smile crossing her lips. "Now, was that really so difficult?"
Try as he might, he couldn't manage an answering grin. "We're making a mistake, Chloe. I promised my father—"
"I know what you promised your father," she cut him off shortly. "But it was a promise respecting me. Your father, much as I respect and admire him, has no control over my life. I release you from your vow, Brady. I want you to love me. I need you to love me."
She pressed eager lips to his again, and it was no point trying to fight her. It was only as she began her exploration of his chest, as fingers and mouth began to trail across his skin, Brady was able to struggle for sanity again. He grabbed her gently and put her away from him. "Not here, Chloe," he muttered hoarsely. It was taking all his strength not to ravish her right here on the sand. He cast a look back at the village where the fire was waning, and people were beginning to settle down for the night. "Not now."
"If not here and now, then when?" Chloe protested. "You and I both know we don't have forever. We may not even have beyond tomorrow. And I want this, Brady. It's a memory I can treasure forever."
Brady was spared the necessity of answering by the sound of a sea shell trumpet in the harbor. He pulled away from her, in order to make out who was coming. Four canoas were pulling to shore, returning from a fishing trip, laden with food. The blast they had sent out was soon answered by one from shore, and those still awake and sober enough to stagger to the beach came to greet them. Jason, Mimi, John, and Belle were among the first to arrive. They joined Brady and Chloe in waiting for the boats to be pulled in.
Jason and Brady stepped forward along with the village elders to greet them and ask questions of their journey. The others couldn't help moving a bit closer to eavesdrop on what was being said. Chloe and Mimi relied on Belle, who had picked up her share of Taino, to translate what was being said for them. "Jason just asked them if they saw any other ships while they were out," Belle whispered.
Mimi and Chloe exchanged a look of dread, as they waited for the reply. Unconsciously, they grabbed for the other's hand, as if to support each other when the blow they knew was coming fell. "What did he say?" Chloe forced herself to ask, when the fisherman stopped speaking.
Lady Black turned to her friends, a smile on her face which quickly died when she saw their distressed looks. "He said an English naval boat is two days behind them and headed on course after us."
Mimi thought her hand would break from how tightly Chloe squeezed it. Her eyes met Jason's. He shook his head, and she knew it was all coming to its inevitable end. Everything she had foreseen would come true.
