Moonlight on the Caribbean

Chapter Sixteen

Lady Chloe Wesley felt as though she never wanted to face another human being again as long as she lived.  They would make her feel guilty for what she had done, and at the moment, she felt anything but guilty.  She felt…exhilarated, stunned, alive.  And sore.  Very sore.  But she could ignore pain, given that she could not wipe that strange smile off her face.  She felt like singing or running through the rain or—actually, lying in Brady's arms was a perfect feeling. 

They were dressed now, still lingering by the side of the waterfall, and he was trailing his fingers along her arm.  It was the lightest of touches, but she felt it all the way to her bones.  All she seemed to be doing now was feeling.  Feeling pain and contentment and a million emotions she couldn't even begin to describe.  Everything seemed so much more real now.  Colors seemed brighter.  The rushing of the waterfall seemed more melodic.  His touch was reaching through her skin.  Chloe definitely did not want to leave this place.

As if to spoil her unvoiced wish, Brady spoke for what seemed the first time in hours.  "Jason and Mimi will be wondering where we are."

"Let them wonder," Chloe returned petulantly, turning to wrap her arms around his waist and snuggle closer.

"They might come looking for us," he hinted in return, though he was planting soft kisses on her brow.

"I'd like to see how they make it through that jungle.  Those insects nearly ate me alive.  I'm in no hurry to go back again."  She sounded like the pampered, spoiled little girl he had once accused her of being, but she didn't care.  This moment was precious to them.  Returning to the beach meant returning to reality, and she was enjoying this fantasy.

"All right.  So we'll just stay here until we die, then?" he asked.  Chloe could hear the laughter in his voice.

She lifted her face to smile beguilingly at him.  "Would that really be so terrible?"

Brady groaned then leaned down to give her a lingering kiss.  He pulled back, her smile now plastered across his face as well.  "Living in paradise with a goddess by my side?  Oh, I think I could get used to it."

"Good.  Then it's settled," Chloe murmured, settling back against his chest. 

They lay there for a moment longer, drinking in the stillness and peace of the place, before Brady continued, "Of course, there is the little matter of the Royal Navy, but never mind; let them shoot me here, better than hanging somewhere else."

His words had the desired effect.  Chloe shot out of his arms, glaring down at him.  "Don't even joke about things like that!  You're not going to die.  You told me yourself, your father is going to intercede for you."

"Well, he can hardly do that if I'm here, can he?" Brady pointed out.

Chloe scowled down at him.  "Oh you and your…logic."  She sighed, finally giving the point up as a lost one.  "Fine.  Have it your way.  Let's go."

Brady laughed, pulling her back down and giving her a kiss that wiped her mind of all vexed thoughts and struggling simply to remember her name.  "Believe me, Chloe, if I had it my way, we would never be leaving here, but we have to face the world sometime."

Chloe grimaced, trying to imagine Mimi's reaction when she emerged in her damp and rumpled dress.  It would not be pretty.

~~*~~

Mimi listened to the pounding of the waves against the shore and smiled.  She was wrapped between Jason's legs, her head against his chest, and the sound of the waves mixed with the beating of his heart to create a soothing rhythm.  So this was what it felt like to be completely happy.  She had never had this sweet security before.  She was going to marry the man she loved.  It was more than she had ever dared to dream.

"What are you thinking about?" Jason breathed against her ear, his arms pulling her tighter.

She smiled and turned to give him a light peck on the lips.  "You.  What else?"

Jason chuckled, the throaty sound tickling the back of her neck.  "I'm flattered."

"You should be.  It's not often I can stop worrying about Belle and Chloe long enough to think of anyone else," Mimi drawled.  "But somehow, you always manage to send them straight out of my head."

"Good," the pirate returned, a note of steel in his voice.  "There should be more to your life than worrying about a couple of spoiled—"

Mimi yanked herself out of his arms; her eyes were green fire as she glared at him.  "I'm going to warn you of this one time only, Jase.  You do not speak a word against those girls.  You have no idea what they mean to me."

Jason could see clearly he had overstepped his bounds.  He gazed at her with new eyes.  "I wonder at your vehemence in defending them, is all, Mimi.  You are Lady Black's maid.  That hardly makes her your responsibility, and Lady Wesley is nothing to you."

Her manner became suddenly, frighteningly frigid.  "I am so much more than just the maid to them, and they are everything to me.  You don't understand…you can't understand what we've all been to each other."

"Then explain it to me," he soothed, as he placed gentle hands on her shoulders.

Mimi sighed, trying to figure out how to put their strange bond into words.  "I've told you a bit about what my life was like with my mother, but that is nothing compared to the day to day living with it.  The shame was horrific, but worse than that, it was like…like she didn't care about me.  She looked at me, and I was always a reminder of how she had come to that in the first place."  She kept her eyes averted as she poured out a little bit more of the hurt to Jason.  Her eyes would reveal every last drop of it, and she wasn't ready even now to be that open.

"Anyway," she continued rapidly, before he could comment, "when I came to serve Belle, it was like entering an entirely different world.  Everything there was so splendid, so different from the squalor in which I had lived.  I was awed by everything and everyone there.  The Blacks were kind to me.  I was an inferior, in their service, but they educated me alongside their own daughter.  For a long time, I was more Belle's playmate than anything else."

Jason nodded his comprehension.  "So you learned to take care of her.  I understand now.  I'm sorry for what I said."

Mimi's mouth turned up in a half-smile.  "I forgive you, but you still don't understand.  You see, I discovered something in all my years in that house.  I am not the only person in the world with problems, and money can only shield you from so much."

"What do you mean?" Jason asked, his brow creasing with concern.

"Do you really think I'm the kind of person who would become overly-protective of spoiled little rich girls?  I love Lady Isabelle and Lady Chloe because they have been through just as much in their own, different ways.  Maybe mine was the more outwardly traumatic of our childhoods, but they had things to deal with too.  They never talk about it, but the scars are still there.  For instance, Belle's parents hate each other.  They've never made any attempt to disguise their mutual loathing of the other's society.  Imagine what that must have been like for their daughter.  You understand.  Your parents' marriage was not pleasant either.  All her life, Belle has felt unloved and unwanted.  She's seen her life as a burden.  Why do you think she goes out of her way to be kind to others?  She is searching for the love and approval she spent her whole childhood lacking."

Jason raised his arms in surrender, silencing her.  "I apologize, Mimi.  I wasn't thinking when I spoke.  I've seen firsthand the love and care your mistress showed the Ara'guacu' aboard ship.  She does have my respect.  When I said what I did, I was thinking instead of the times I've seen Lord Black be harsh with you.  I never want you to be talked down to like that again."

Mimi laughed, her bad mood dissipating as she recalled the occasions Jason mentioned.  "Oh, is that all?  Lord Black was only severe with me because he doesn't like you."

The pirate's frown deepened at the circumstance his new betrothed seemed to find so amusing.  "That should make things difficult when it comes time for me to ask for your hand."

Mimi felt a little shiver run down her spine at Jason's words.  He intended to ask for her, as if she were a real lady.  "Well, you have plenty of time to start earning his favor.  Look how well you've succeeded with me."

"That was different," Jason teased, his arms circling round her waist and drawing her closer.  "You never disliked me."

"Oh really?"  Mimi arched an eyebrow.  "What makes you so confident?"

"The first day I met you I offered to feed Jan to the sharks."

Mimi couldn't withhold her laughter.  She remembered clearly the first conversation she had been witness to between her fiancé and her nemesis.  Obviously, she had not been as adept as she thought at hiding her mirth from him even then.  "All right.  I confess.  You won me over from the beginning.  Now, return the favor, and acknowledge you were fascinated by me as well."

"Never, 'til it is proved against me."  Jason's stalwart denial was shown meaningless by the mischievous glint in his eyes.  "What evidence have you to support your claim?"

"You carried me off the Dolphin yourself."  Mimi let her statement fall with a triumphant smile.

"Mere gallantry, I assure you, Mistress.  I would have done the same for any young lady."

"But you didn't," Mimi returned quietly, her fingers kneading their way into the locks at the nape of his neck.  "You chose me."  All her love and gratitude towards him came out in those few words.  Out of all the women in the world, he had chosen poor, insignificant Mimi Lockhart to love.

Jason's hands swiftly encircled her face, framing it perfectly.  "And you chose me," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her willing lips.

"Uh-hmm."  A throat being cleared in the near vicinity made them start apart.  Mimi looked up to encounter Captain Blackheart staring down bemusedly at the entwined couple, while Lady Black lingered behind, clearly torn between embarrassment and curiosity.

"So sorry to disturb you," the captain continued, in a voice that clearly showed he was anything but apologetic.

Jason got to his feet, dusting off his breeches and helping Mimi to rise.  She looked down ruefully at her sandy, wrinkled dress.  Only a glance at Chloe's own sodden one removed some of her mortification. 

"Not at all, Captain," Jason returned, and Mimi was astonished by his smooth, cool air.  "I take it you have been as…er...agreeably engaged."  He looked the other pair up and down mockingly.

Blackheart merely returned his friend's grin, while the two women looked anywhere but at each other.  "Pity to go back, isn't it?"

"A great pity." 

Much to Mimi's surprise, she felt Jason's arm snake around her waist as he spoke.  Her cheeks flushed, and she could look nowhere but at the gritty sand of the beach.  Her face thus averted, no one could see her smile.

~~*~~

Brady was smiling—no, positively grinning—as he made his way below decks half an hour later.  For the first time in what seemed like years, he had not a single weight upon his shoulders.  Life stretched before him in all its brilliant, wondrous possibilities.  He had deposited the woman of his dreams safely back in her cabin with his charming baby sister and was currently progressing the well-trod track down to converse with the father who he had been reunited with after twenty years.  Life was surprisingly good.

"I'm going to marry Mimi."

Brady jumped, as much shocked by hearing another voice as he was by the announcement made with it.  He had truly forgotten his first mate walked by his side.  He stopped and turned to face the rightfully abashed Masters.  "You're what?" he managed, open-mouthed.

"You heard me," Jason returned evenly.

Brady tried to think of the words appropriate to such a declaration but found he didn't have them.  Marriage, settling down, raising a family—they just weren't the kinds of things people did in their line of work. 

"Look, I'm not asking for your approval," Jase continued, evidently taking Brady's silence for displeasure, "but you're the closest thing to family I've got, so I thought you ought to know.  When all this is over, Mimi and I are getting married."

Brady stood silent for a moment longer, allowing the full weight of the event to settle in on him.  Slowly, that irrepressible grin stole across his face again.  Was there any better proof that life was finally going right for them than this?  "That's wonderful news, mate.  I'm happy for you."  And he held out a hand for his friend to shake.

Jason hesitated a moment, trying to read the sincerity in his captain's expression.  Apparently satisfied, he clasped hands with the man who was like a brother to him.  "Thank you.  Just thought you ought to know."

"Glad you told me," Brady grunted.  With typical masculine brevity, the subject was closed. 

The captain could not be distracted long by Jason's news.  While he was pleased for his friend, his own concerns were much more pressing.  He was filled with a longing to see his father, to talk face to face for the first time with his acknowledged sire.  Unintentionally, he quickened his pace towards the makeshift brig.  It wasn't until he stood before the thick, wooden door that a feeling of foreboding overcame him.

Brady pushed it aside as mere nerves; it was only right he be anxious about this long-awaited event.  He knocked three times, waited, then knocked again, in the appointed code for admittance.  There was no response, not even the shuffling of feet as Kevin moved to answer the door.  Brady's disquiet increased, and he cast a questioning glance at his companion.  Jason shrugged, as though unconcerned, but Brady saw his hand come to rest on his sword hilt. 

Knocking once more and still hearing nothing, Brady pulled his own sword and inched towards the doorway.  He jerked his head, giving a wordless order for Jason to follow him silently.  The pirate prodded the door open.  It creaked on its hinges, but no flash of steel greeted him as he entered the small cabin.  At first glance, the room seemed empty.  Kevin wasn't snoring in his usual seat; Lord Black wasn't impatiently pacing the confines of his cell.

But it took mere seconds for Brady's eyes to land on the prone figure on the solitary cot.  "No," he choked, even while the grisly dark red liquid soaking the blankets and dripping onto the wooden planks beneath proved he had come too late.  He stood frozen, for once in his life incapable of action.  He barely noticed as Jason passed him to kneel beside the gruesome site. 

Jason put two fingers to Lord Black's neck and pulled them hastily away.  They were covered in blood.  He rose again, facing his stricken friend.  "He's dead, Brady."  Only a softening of the emerald eyes showed his pity; his voice was cool and steady.

A spasm of grief struck Brady, causing him to falter, but in its wake came a dizzying numbness and an overpowering fury.  His father was dead.  Someone had murdered him on board his own ship.  His hand tightened on his sword.  "They'll pay for this," he spat.  At the moment, he had no clue who "they" were, but he didn't care.  The whole world would reap vengeance for this dastardly act.

"Yes."  Jason's reply was not an answering cry but a cold statement of fact.  He had always been the more level-headed one.  It would be impossible to decide which man was more dangerous.  "I'll start questioning the crew and looking for Kev.  You had better inform Lady Black of this."

Brady recoiled in horror.  For a moment, he had forgotten about his sister.  What would she feel when he told her of this?  How would she react?  He had promised to protect them all, and he had failed.  Even in this, the one good deed of his life, he had failed.  Bile rose up in his throat and threatened to choke him.  He forced it back down.  Now was no time to be weak.  They had a mission to accomplish.

~~*~~

Belle felt very heavy.  Her brain was muddled, and she felt incapable of moving a muscle.  It wasn't upsetting though.  She was relaxed and lost in a world of oblivion.  At least she had been, until she heard distantly, as through water, the sounds of a door opening and closing and voices calling out to her.  Putting all her strength into listening, she recognized the voices of Chloe and Mimi.  That matter settled, she tried to piece together why they were here, and where "here" was, and if she should bother waking, or if this was merely another dimension of her sleeping state. 

"Belle?  How long has she been sleeping?" she heard Chloe demand.

A third voice, muffled and indistinct, answered, and it took another moment for Belle to place it as that new maid of Chloe's, what's-her-name.

Jan, she realized, pieces starting to come together as she slowly awakened.  They were on a boat, a pirate ship, and she and Jan had stayed behind while Chloe and Mimi went to shore with the pirates.  Yes, she remembered now.  Only the day had passed awfully quickly.  She must have slept through most of it. 

It seemed to take much more effort than usual, but Belle forced her leaden eyelids open and looked blurrily at the worried faces staring down at her.  Mimi was hovering on one side.  Upon seeing her mistress's eyes open, she smiled and placed a hand to feel Belle's forehead.  Belle smiled back, soothed by the cool, tender touch of her maid. 

Chloe hung over the footboard, her blue eyes wide, worried, and fretful.  "Belle, are you all right?  You're not feeling ill again, are you?"

Belle was prepared to answer in the negative, but when she opened her mouth, a giant, unladylike yawn escaped her lips.  She was momentarily horrified at her breach of decorum, but when her friends laughed, she couldn't help smiling sheepishly back at them.  Feeling more alert by the second, she struggled to rise to a sitting position, stretching as she did so.  "I'm fine," she assured them.  "I guess I was more tired than I thought, though."

Mimi and Chloe both seemed to relax after that.  They pulled away slightly.  Belle looked up at them, ready to ask all about their day, but stopped with her mouth still hanging open.  "What on earth happened to you?" she exclaimed, surveying their frightful appearances.

The lady and the maid turned distressed eyes on each other now, as though to gather something of their own state from the other.  They were both wearing those disgraceful garments the native women had given them, and the dresses looked even more unsuitable now.  Mimi's was rumpled and covered in gritty, dark sand.  Her feet were almost black with the same stuff.  Chloe, meanwhile, looked as though she had half-drowned from the wet hair hanging loose down her back and the white dress that clung immodestly to her body.

"I went swimming," Chloe rushed to explain.

At the same moment, Mimi burst out, "I was walking on the beach."

Both their agitated way of speaking and the heightened color of their cheeks gave Belle reason to suspect they were not being completely honest with her, and only the obvious eavesdropping of Jan in the corner stopped her from pressing them for more information.  Then again, considering what she had inadvertently seen on the island, she was not entirely sure she wanted to know any more about Chloe and Mimi's proceedings when out of her presence.

They were all spared the trouble of finding another topic of discussion by a pounding on the door.  Mimi rushed, with unnecessary alacrity, to open it, and Belle had more than a passing suspicion she was eager to be spared any further questioning on the events of her day.  But Belle had no more time to spend on observing her friends, for at that moment Captain Blackheart entered the already crowded room and marched straight to her bedside.

Belle looked up at his imposing figure in some alarm.  While she had grown to have a certain respect for him, and even some gratitude for his nursing her when sick, it would never be within her power to study the black-swathed pirate without some degree of fear.  On this particular occasion, that sensation was heightened by her recognition of his own anxiety in the controlled movements and in the lack of civility with which he had forced himself upon their notice.

All she could manage of the greeting she had planned was a questioning, "Captain, what…?"

Belle saw him start, as if unprepared for her intuition.  Without knowing anything more than she had ten minutes ago, she felt terror seize her heart.  It took all her fortitude to bring the words to her lips.  "My father.  Captain, where's my father?"

Blackheart's shoulders slumped.  He could not meet her gaze.  "I'm sorry, m'lady," he replied in an almost inaudible voice.

She knew.  He didn't need to say more.  Belle knew.  Her hand rose to clutch at her chest, and her already fair complexion took on a ghostlike pallor.  "No.  No." 

Dimly, Belle recognized that Mimi had taken her other hand and was squeezing it sympathetically.  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Chloe looking from her to the captain and back again as if unsure who was most in need of her comfort.  But she was aware of none of it.  Her mind had frozen on the one thought of her father…her father…

"NO!"  She screamed the word this time, causing the whole room to watch her with anxiety.  "No!  No, you're wrong.  You're wrong." 

And before anyone could collect their senses enough to stop her, Belle flung herself out of the bed and out of the cabin.  She raced down the ship's narrow passageways, calling out for her father at the top of her lungs.  "Papa!  Papa!  Come here!  It's Belle. I need you.  Papa!"  She climbed down ladders, stumbling, tearing her petticoat.  She had not even taken time to dress properly; she didn't care.

"Papa!  Papa!"  Belle finally lurched onto the brig door, panting for breath.  She could hear the others only a few steps behind her.

"Belle!  Belle, don't go in there!"

Ignoring the captain's warnings, Belle used what remained of her manic strength to force open the door.  She looked around the room without seeing it, trying to convince herself she would find her father alive and well and waiting for her with open arms.  In such a state of self-delusion, it was not the sight in front of her that brought her back to reality.  It was what she felt beneath her feet.

The sticky, miserable sensation caused her to look down.  Her small, bare feet were surrounded by pools of red liquid, white blurs against a scarlet background.  Horror nearly choked her, but Belle slowly lifted her eyes to stare, seeing this time, the gore-drenched cot.  The still, unmoving, distorted, mutilated being which hours ago had been her loving father.

Hysteria, pursuing her all this while, finally captured her.  "PAPA!" she howled, tearing at her hair.  Unreasoning sobs came pouring out of her; not of grief—it was too soon for that—but of terror, anger, and disbelief.  Choking, screaming, weeping, Lady Black collapsed insensible on the blood-splattered floor.

~~*~~

A tense silence pervaded the deck of the Vengeance while First Mate Jason Masters stalked back and forth across every well-known plank.  He felt for the first time as though he knew nothing of men, of human natured, of anything really.  They had all been dealt a blow today, and he knew not what to make of it.  His first mission had of course been to discover who among the crew might have committed such an offense.  How could it be that a murderer lurked in their midst, unnoticed all this time?

Jason had appealed to Hawk, to Ty, to all the crew.  But there was a general alibi, something he never would have guessed but encompassing every sailor aboard ship.  Unless there was a grand conspiracy to murder Lord Black, which he knew there was not, it only left one possibility.  Only one man was missing.  Only one unaccounted for.

"Kevin Lambert," Jase muttered, not for the first time, while his eyes narrowed with murderous rage.  He never would have believed it.  He didn't believe it.  He had known Kevin for three years, had fought side by side with him, knew all his past wrongs at the hands of Spain.  If Brady was his best friend, he would have still called Kevin his truest.

Kevin Lambert had been a cabin boy on a Dutch merchant vessel, when it was attacked during the war between the Protestant Netherlands and Catholic Spain.  At only thirteen, he had watched as the entire crew was forced to kiss a crucifix or be handed over to the Inquisitors.  Only Kevin had yielded.  He had spent the rest of his life trying to make up for his weakness.  He had found brother warriors in Brady and Jason, found a similar burning hatred against Spain.  Together, the three had cut a swath of murder and revenge straight through the heart of the Main. 

So what could possibly have made him turn traitor now?  Jason had been musing over this question for half an hour without any clear answer.  Again and again, he tried to work out a motive, a plan of action, and repeatedly, he discarded them.  Nothing seemed right.

"Masters?"

Jason whirled around at the reluctant greeting to see Hawk standing before him, looking as though he feared to be the recipient of the other man's wrath.  "What is it?" he snarled.

"The ship's been searched from top to bottom.  No sign of Kev, but one of the dinghies is missing."

A string of the foulest words he knew forced their way through Jason's clenched teeth.  Hawk bore it all in silence, though his eyes showed him searching for more than one escape route should the pirate's anger turn violent.  But Jason, though prone to fits of anger, almost always kept a stern guard on his temper.  He saved his rage for those deserving of it.  He finally stopped swearing long enough to growl at Hawk, "Get lost."

Hawk had no trouble obliging him, and Jason was left to his perplexed thoughts.  The crew knew to avoid him at all costs when he was in a dark mood like this.  Besides, they had their own duties to attend to.  In addition to everything else, there was a body to be prepared and a room to clean.  Jason was not a person to forget about the little matters, even while larger issues pressed in on him.  He knew Brady would be unequal to ordering his father's body set out to sea, and in the sweltering Caribbean, a corpse could not be left to rot even a day.  This was a reality, and Jason did best with realities.

"Jase…"

That whimper of his name was all the warning Jason had before he felt soft arms being wrapped around his neck and a warm body pressed to his.  He instinctively hugged her back, uncaring—for the moment—if a stray crew member or two saw.  "Are you okay?" he asked in Mimi's ear as she buried her face in his neck.

He felt her shake her head against him and soon afterwards felt the hot, stinging sensation of tears falling from her eyes to his skin.  He buried his hand in her hair and tried to soothe her as she cried.  He knew nothing he said could help with the pain she was feeling now.  Jason had known too much loss in his life to be foolish enough to offer platitudes.  He simply held her and let her cry.  It would do her more good than anything else.

Some time later, as he felt her sobs begin to ebb, Jason guided her away towards the rail, keeping his arm firmly planted round her waist.  She rested her head against his shoulder.  "Look at that," he instructed, pointing to the horizon.

Bright hues of red and gold flashed across the sky in all their brilliance as the sun descended beyond their vision.  It was only a few moments, only a brief image of glory, and it was gone.  But that was the point.  As if to complete the unspoken metaphor, the splash of Lord Black's wrapped body being thrown to the sea was heard.  Jason watched it sink slowly into the ocean depths.  He also noticed that Hawk and Ty had taken off their hats and held them to their chests as a sign of respect.  He would have smiled, if he hadn't heard Mimi sigh.  He squeezed her gently, pulling her closer. 

"Thank you," she whispered softly, a moment later.  Her green eyes still sought the distant sky, watching the stars begin to shimmer dimly through the blue.

Jason couldn't think of a suitable response to that.  "You're welcome" seemed too trivial.  He could ask how she was feeling, but he knew that without asking.  He merely let the silence take them.

But it was inevitable that words would find their way back to Mimi.  After a few minutes of restful quiet, she began, "Do you know who did it?"

The pirate stiffened.  In his heart, he still couldn't accept the truth.  "Possibly…yes…I don't know."

Mimi turned towards him then, seeming to read the struggle in his face.  "Who?"

"Kevin Lambert is missing.  So is a dinghy."  That was all the answer he could give.  He could not accuse his friend of murder.  Not yet. 

Mimi appeared to realize that too.  At least, she didn't press him for more answers.  "Belle's not taking it well," she continued, swiftly changing subjects.  "Of course, who would?  Poor thing.  I don't know if you heard, but she went to see…him."  Her speech faltered for a moment, and she stood, fighting for control, before continuing.  This was what he loved about his Mimi.  She was so strong, so much stronger than she knew.

"I heard," Jason replied, giving her time to collect herself.  "Is she any better now?"

"Well, she was when I left, but I don't know about now.  She fainted, you know, and the captain carried her back to her cabin.  I stayed with her until she revived and calmed her when she was on the verge of hysterics again, but as soon as she was calm, Chloe ordered me from the room."  Mimi let out a sigh of displeasure.  "I don't know why she wouldn't let me stay.  If anyone should be with Belle right now, it's me.  But instead, she's down there with Chloe and Captain Blackheart, who I'm sure is the last person in the world she wants to see."

Jason deemed it better not to reply.  It was obvious Mimi knew nothing of Brady's true identity, and he had no right to make his friend's secret known.  If Chloe knew, however, it would explain her eagerness to be alone with the siblings.  "Wasn't it just this afternoon you were defending Lady Wesley to me?" he teased gently.  "You should give her the benefit of the doubt.

Mimi cast a searching look up at him, then shrugged.  Whatever secret he was keeping, she didn't have the strength to go rooting for it tonight.  "If you say so."

"Come here," Jason instructed, holding out his arms to enfold her again.  She made no resistance, snuggling as close to him as she could get, laying her head on his heart.  He wrapped his arms tightly around her, his hands working little relaxing circles on her back.  He wanted to protect her.  She had been through so much, and now, she had to deal with the death of a man she had looked up to as a father.  

Mimi stiffened in his arms, suddenly flying back, her eyes wide.  "Jason, Lord Black is dead."

Jason frowned.  He hadn't thought Mimi was in denial on that point.  Her grief had seemed so natural.  "Yes, Mimi," he said soothingly.  "I'm sorry."

"No, no, no," she returned, wringing her hands in fretful agitation.  "He's dead.  He's dead, and he was the one who was going to save you.  He was going to talk to Commodore Brady, and…he's dead."  She stilled suddenly, looking up at him in both fear and search of confirmation.

Jason felt his throat constrict.  He had realized that the moment he had seen Lord Black's body, but he had forced it to the back of his mind.  There were other things to consider more pressing than his own well-being.  But he had hoped that Mimi would not remember it until much later.  He had hoped she might be spared at least this one grief until it was actually upon her.  "Yes," was all the answer he could manage.

"No!"  Mimi reached out to him, burying her head in his arms, clinging to his neck as though she never meant to let go.  "They can't take you from me," she continued.  Her words were muffled from how close her face was to his skin.  "I won't let you go."

Jason chuckled, though he felt her pain.  It cut him more deeply than his own could ever do.  "I'm sure the British Royal Navy won't have any problems taking orders from you, Mimi."

Her head jerked up, and she glared at him.  "This isn't funny.  They'll hang you."

"Yes."  Jason spoke the word without qualm.  He had grown resigned to death a long time ago.  He had felt all the joy of his unexpected reprieve, lived in this last day as though he had a whole future ahead of him, but deep down, he knew it would always come to this.  "I'm a pirate.  Call it a job hazard."

"Still not funny," Mimi fumed, swatting at him.  "Why don't you go away?  We're still anchored off the island.  Go hide there until we sail away."

"No."  His denial was inflexible.

"Why not?"

"Would you run and hide if you knew Lady Black and Lady Wesley were in trouble?"  Jason turned the full force of his gaze upon her until he saw her blush with shame. 

"No," she muttered finally, once again pressing close to him.  "But it's not fair!  I've only just found you.  We were going to get married, Jase.  You promised me a family, and a life, and without you, I don't have a life at all."

Jason felt the full impact of that last statement.  Her avowal struck him to the heart.  No answer, no reply could laugh that away.  All he could do was say words that would pain her further, but say them he must.  He might never have a chance to say them again.  "I love you."

Mimi didn't answer him.  With a broken cry, she pressed fervent lips to his, her hands twisting into his hair as though she never meant to let him go.  Jason's hands dug into her back, and he held onto her for his suddenly dear life.

~~*~~

"Get out."  The words were spoken calmly, and for that, Chloe was thankful.  Belle did not look likely to go into hysterics again anytime soon.  However, that was all there seemed to be for Chloe to be thankful.  The look on Belle's face as she stared up at her brother was nothing short of murderous.

Of course, she doesn't know he is her brother, Chloe consoled herself.  It was very poor consolation indeed when she saw the shafts of pain that drifted through Brady's crystal eyes.  She wondered if anyone would have seen that pain but herself, and then wondered again how Belle could not see how similar her own blue orbs were to the pirate's. 

"Of course," Brady was mumbling, when Chloe came back to the moment.  "I'm sorry for the intrusion, m'lady."

Chloe, seeing Brady was really about to leave, felt called upon to speak.  Lord Black was dead.  Didn't that make it more important than ever for his children to know each other?  "Intrusion?" she repeated, casually moving to block the exit.  "It's hardly an intrusion to carry back an unconscious woman, Captain, or to wait to assure yourself of her safety.  Lady Black owes you her thanks."  She darted a warning look over at Belle that was entirely lost on her petite friend.

"Thanks?"  It was Belle's turn to sound incredulous.  "Thank him for what?  For being abducted by pirates?  For spending weeks out at sea on this miserable boat?  Or, better yet, thank him for being the cause of my father's…my father's…"

She didn't need to finish that sentence.  Both her listeners knew what she meant.  It was all Chloe could do to restrain herself from throwing her arms around Brady's neck at the look that flashed across his face.  Her own grief for Lord Black receded into nothing compared to his, and only the knowledge that Belle was suffering every bit as acutely stopped her from scolding her for the pain she was causing Brady. 

Chloe took the more diplomatic road instead.  "That wasn't the captain's fault," she interjected softly, more for Brady's benefit than his sister's.

"Oh really?" Belle spat out.  It was clear she was taking refuge from her pain in anger.  Chloe couldn't blame her, but she wished she would direct it at a different source.  "Where was he when all this was happening then?"  She rose off the bed on unsteady legs, and Chloe winced as she saw again the blood on Belle's feet and petticoat.  It was not her own. 

"Perhaps if he had paid more attention to matters on his ship, instead of certain other…pursuits—" Belle cast a scathing look at Chloe, and Chloe felt the flush rising to her cheeks.  "Perhaps my father would still be alive."  Belle stopped mere inches from Brady, and for once seemed entirely unintimidated by him.  The loss of her father had brought her past the point of fear.  She stared him full in the face as she hissed up at him, "You killed him.  You did!  It's your fault he's dead.  You promised to keep us safe, but you killed him."

Chloe, who feared some return of Belle's hysteria, winced at the accusation and its effect on Brady but made no struggle to interfere.  She couldn't think what to do anyway.  Belle was beyond the reach of reason, and Chloe's feet and tongue seemed bound by invisible cords.  All she could do was make a placating gesture with her arm, which Belle steadfastly ignored.

Brady stared down at his half-sister from behind the mask, unblinking, unmoving, unspeaking, for a long time before he answered her charge.  "Yes."  His voice was raw and aching, and Chloe felt tears start into her eyes at the sound of it.  "Yes, m'lady.  It's my fault, and I'm sorry."

Chloe knew his words would have drastic effect on Belle, but she had hoped they would provide the same release of tears they had been responsible for on her part.  She never expected to see Belle's tiny, pale hand reach up and slap the pirate across the face.  Brady did nothing to stop her, and she continued to beat on him, his chest, his face, screaming and crying and using words Chloe didn't think Belle even knew.  She wanted to put a stop to this display, but she knew it wasn't her place.  She could only watch, silent tears streaming from her eyes, as Belle let out all her impotent fury and Brady accepted it as his just fate.

Belle continued to pound against his chest as long as her strength held out and then, surprising Chloe yet again, she seemed to crumple into him.  Her fist would occasionally thump at the solid muscle, but for the most part, she allowed herself to be locked inside Brady's strong arms, as he supported her from falling.  Her first true, real sobs escaped her now, and Brady did all he could to soothe her, stroking her hair, shushing her as if she was a mere child.

Chloe could only watch in awe, as Belle calmed under his ministrations.  Her breathing slowed while she continued to cry, and Chloe believed she fell half-asleep.  Brady noticed the change in her as well.  Gently, as though she would break under his touch, he lifted his sister in his arms and laid her down upon the bed, sinking down to his knees beside her.

There was no sound in the room now besides an occasional hiccupping sob from Belle, as tears flowed unceasing down the cheeks of all three.  Brady held onto his sister's hand, and she grasped it as her last security. 

~~*~~

It was a long time before Belle fell asleep, and Brady was able to flee her room.  He saw Chloe wanted to speak to him, but he waved her away.  He couldn't face her tonight, couldn't face anyone.  He stumbled down to the same storage hold he had once come to bind a wound.  Chloe had followed him then.  Part of him wished she would now.

But the larger part of him cried for relief from her watching, sympathetic eyes.  He felt he would break at any moment if he didn't find some release.  No sooner had he enclosed himself within the walls of his retreat than he screamed with mingled grief and fury and self-loathing.  He had seen Belle do the same when she had come upon the murder scene, and he envied her that freedom to go crazy for a few moments.  It had been a relief when she had hit him.  It would have been better if she could have stabbed a knife in his heart.  At least that would feel better than this tearing, unnamed pain.

Pain he hadn't felt since his mother died.

Brady struck out, uncaring where or what damage he did.  He splintered boxes with his fists.  He kicked walls, he slammed into rafters.  He didn't care.  He could demolish everything in the room, break every bone in his body.  Physical pain was a relief to all this dead weight inside.  He broke glass with his fist.  Whether a mirror, a lamp, or a jug, it was impossible to tell in the darkness.  But he finally felt the release of blood pouring down his skin, his own blood.  Not his father's, warm and spilled long before he got there.  The image appeared to him again, and he couldn't bear it.  He slammed himself into the wall, again and again and again.  He pushed himself until he could no more, and then he slumped onto the floor, utterly defeated.

Brady heard the door creak open and was unsurprised to see Chloe standing there.  She was framed by the light behind her, as well as the dim moonlight streaming in through the porthole—the only light in the room.  Her hair hung still down to her waist, she wore the white dress, and he found it impossible to believe that it was only this afternoon he had been possessing her, reveling in the joy of being with this sweet and innocent beauty.

The lady didn't say a word as she glided into the room.  She made no noise as she slipped down to sit beside him in silence, and Brady knew she would not leave him alone again tonight.  He was grateful.  He couldn't speak, but he was grateful. 

They sat there for a long time, the sounds of their breathing and the gentle lapping of water against the ship's hull the only noise.  Chloe turned to look at him, and to Brady, it seemed a signal.  He brought his hands up to cup her neck, not gently as usual, but trembling with a kind of violent energy that had only been partially expended through his rampage earlier.

Chloe flinched but did not try to draw away, not even when she felt the blood from his hand smearing on her neck.  Brady pulled her face within his reach and pressed his lips upon hers with bruising force.  He crushed her against him, his tongue forcing its way through the barrier of her teeth, assaulting her with its rough possession.  As swiftly as he began, he pulled away, his blue eyes glittering dangerously behind the black mask. 

"Are you sure you want to love a pirate, m'lady?" he demanded, with surprising venom.

Chloe sat quite still under his ruthless gaze.  Then, she pulled his hand to her throat and traced it down along her exposed skin to her left breast, leaving a trail of blood straight to her heart. 

Brady asked no more questions.  She had sealed her fate, and he used her sweet softness to dull his everlasting pain.