Moonlight on the Caribbean
Chapter Eighteen
"Would you stop that pacing? You're making me dizzy."
Shawn stopped walking but glared at his smirking friend. "You know you're the one behind bars here. Don't you think you should burn off a little nervous energy?"
Brady studied him coolly. Shawn had never yet learned how to be philosophical about life. This was the first time he had been caught in a serious ethical dilemma, and it was driving him insane. Brady could see that on the taut lines of his face, even if his frantic movements had not given it away. Surprisingly, he felt more for the Commodore's situation than for his own. Death did not frighten him; he had cheated it once too often.
The pirate leaned back against the wall of his cell, his arms crossing leisurely in front of him. "Why should I? You're expending enough worry for the both of us."
"This is wrong, Brady," Shawn went on, continuing his march round the small confines of the brig of the H.M.S. Miranda. "You didn't kill anyone—"
"Oh no?" Brady interrupted, with every appearance of calm. Inside, images were flashing across his brain, leaving him the urge to be ill. "I doubt the crew of the El Diablo or a dozen ships like her would agree."
Once again, the officer froze, this time with his back to Brady. Brady watched him stiffen. He knew Shawn didn't like hearing the details of his exploits, but facts were facts. Shawn would have to face them sooner or later.
"It won't be those murders you'll be hanged for," Shawn gritted out, still facing the wall.
"Sure it will. You've been to executions before, Commodore. They'll read out a whole long list of charges, and then they'll snap a rope, and in ten minutes, I'll be dead. Not that bad when you think about it. I could have had much worse."
Shawn whirled around, dark eyes flashing with rare anger. "You're being frightfully cavalier about this, Captain. But may I remind you of a few things?"
Brady nodded. He knew what Shawn was about to say and had to let him express it, though nothing could alter his resignation. The information Shawn was about to offer was going to do nothing but pain both of them. Still, he had made Shawn guardian of his secret and owed him a hearing.
"First of all, your actions no longer affect just yourself. You have a sister to think of now, you know. Lady Black's father is dead; her mother is all the way across the Atlantic, and not in any position to be taking care of her. You, and you alone, Lord Black, have the duty to protect her."
"In return, there are some things you need to acknowledge, Commodore Brady. I am not Lord Black. I have admitted my parentage to you, and you believe me, because you are my friend and know I am a man of honor. The world, however, is not so trusting. I have no certificate proving my birth. The two people who could have attested to it are both dead. As far as anyone who matters is concerned, Brady Black died in a shipwreck when he was four years old. Belle has no suspicion of being my sister, and it is best that it remains so. Such a revelation could do nothing more than cause her pain, as I explained to you already."
"And that's it then?" Shawn exclaimed, still fuming on the other side of the iron bars. Brady could see his words had been to some effect, however. Shawn's shoulders began to slump in resignation. "You're just going to turn your back on her, on your obligations to your only living relative?"
Brady's own temper sparked at this implication. "Of course not. I'm thinking of her best interests, don't you see that? And I'm not leaving her unprotected…I'm leaving her with you."
Shawn's remaining anger melted away, as Brady had known it would. He seemed as aware as even Brady could wish him to be of the honor such a claim gave him. "In other words, you give us your blessing?"
"Did you really think I wouldn't? Shawn, I've known you loved my sister since the moment you mentioned her, and I didn't even know she was my sister then. I've seen certain proof that she loves you. Luckily, she's stumbled upon one of the very few men in the world—perhaps the only one—who is worthy of her."
The Commodore looked thrilled under Brady's praise. He held out his hand to shake through the gaps in the cell, and then seemed suddenly aware of them again. In a burst of rage, he kicked them, doing nothing more than hurting his own foot in the process. "You're going to be my brother, damn it. They can't hang you!"
"They can, and they will," Brady returned, in a voice as cold as steel. "That's something you've got to accept, Shawn. I made my own choices; you don't need to feel responsible for this. It was my own doing entirely, and I won't have you lose your career over it. If you feel an obligation to me, then follow my instructions. Take care of my sister, and find our father's murderer. That's all I ask."
"You know I will, Brady. I already swore I would, but this isn't right. You can't be as calm about this as you appear."
Brady's eyes raked over him fleetingly. Shawn was more perceptive than he thought. "I'm not saying I want to die, Shawn…although at this moment, I'm not too pleased with the life I'm living. My father just died; he was murdered because of my negligence. If you think I'm going to start claiming my life is worthy of being spared, when his was not, you're not as smart as I think you are."
"You're grieving right now, Brady," Shawn continued to plead. "You're not in a position to be making life or death decisions. You—"
"I'm not making any decisions here, Shawn. I'm simply telling you to do your job. Your job is to bring me back to Port Royal to face a tribunal. That's what you're going to do. What happens after that is out of your hands…and mine."
"But it's not just your trial! What about your men? Are you really prepared to let all those men die out of loyalty to you?"
Brady let out a slow breath of relief. If Shawn had moved so far, he was finally beginning to accept that Brady's death was unavoidable. "I haven't said a word about them. I won't say a word about them."
Shawn stopped, searching his friend's expression. Brady willed him to understand. He would say no more. He would not put his sister's betrothed at risk.
"All right then," Shawn said, after a long pause. There was something in his voice which conveyed he understood the message. He picked up his hat from the post on the wall. "I must leave you. I shall be expected at supper shortly, but I'll have something brought down for you."
Brady frowned as Shawn left the brig, which was still unguarded, though his cell was locked. There had been something not quite natural in the way he'd spoken that last sentence. It better not mean what he thought it did.
~~*~~
It seemed a lifetime to Mimi since she had last helped her mistress to dress for the evening, though in reality it had only been a few months. The world of Black Hall was a far cry from merchant ships and pirate vessels. When the invitation had come to dine with Commodore Brady and his officers, Chloe, Belle, and Mimi had all looked at each other in complete bewilderment. They all imagined such civility was left behind with the last view of the English shore.
Belle, however, had recovered more quickly than the others. To her, the life she had led before this journey, even with the unhappiness at home, was heaven compared to the hell she'd gone through since she had begun it. She immediately ordered Mimi's assistance in airing out the gowns in her trunk. The Commodore had thoughtfully brought along their luggage, left behind when they'd been abducted from the Dolphin.
Mimi was in awe as she lifted dress after dress from the tightly packed chest. Lady Marlena had ordered Belle's trousseau from London before they set off on their journey, and, with few exceptions, the clothes had not been worn before. She passed by the bridal gown, of purest white, and three ball gowns of the latest fashion, before seeing appropriate evening wear. Reverently, she produced a pale blue creation that epitomized her ethereal mistress. "Would this one do, my lady?" she asked, revealing it to Belle's sight.
Belle looked on it with appreciative eyes for a moment, before her expression resumed the despairing look she had not been without for the past two days. She shook her head and marched past her maid to do her own ransacking of the clothes. Finally, at the bottom of her second trunk, she found what she had been looking for. "This one, Mimi."
Mimi winced at the necessary formality. Black from head to toe, high collar, long sleeves, and layers of heavy silk. A mourning dress. How could she have forgotten?
"Belle," Chloe said softly, as she observed their discussion. "You can't wear that here. I know you want to show respect for your father, but it's too hot and heavy. You'll suffocate. No one here doubts how much you loved Lord Black."
Belle whirled around to face her friend, blue eyes showing pain and rage. Mimi winced. She expected this to come to another fight such as the ones Chloe and Belle had had during the early days of their captivity, but she underestimated how much they both had changed since then.
"I shall wear this dress, Chloe," Belle returned with determined coldness, though her tone was not harsh. "I shall show my father all the honor he deserves, and I shall not allow the unnaturalness of this place interfere with what I know to be my duty."
Chloe appeared momentarily surprised at her friend's forcefulness, but she recovered quickly. "All right, Belle," she responded, with a gentleness that could not fail to touch the other girl. "I'm sorry for my interference."
Belle managed a forgiving nod in return, and Mimi resumed her duties, helping Belle to shed the ruined white dress and beginning the long and laborious process of her toilette. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chloe turn to her own chests with an expression of the utmost distaste, but the lady obediently began searching in her extravagant frocks for something suitable to wear. Even Jan had recovered enough of a sense of duty to help her mistress.
It was while Mimi was styling Belle's hair that she first became aware the rocking of the boat was intensifying. Wind was battering at the windows.
Belle noticed it as well and groaned. "Oh no, not another storm."
Chloe, on the other hand, jumped out of her chair, regardless of the fact that she had absolutely ruined Jan's efforts on her thick, difficult locks. She ran out the cabin and was out of sight before Belle or Jan could do more than sputter at her. She returned a moment later, her cheeks pink from the force of the breeze. "There's a storm coming in from behind us," she announced. "Clouds are rolling in over the island."
"You're pleased about this?" Belle asked, bewildered.
"Oh, I just thought I would tell you, that's all." Chloe's nonchalance might have fooled Belle, but Mimi knew exactly the cause of the lady's joy. She shared in it. Only a fool or a madman would leave a safe harbor to take a boat out in a thunderstorm. Even her short acquaintance with the sea had taught her that. This storm could be what they needed to buy Blackheart and Jason time to escape.
Chloe caught Mimi's eye and smiled.
~~*~~
As Shawn took her arm to lead her into the captain's dining room, Belle let out a gasp of shock. The room, while not ornate, was large and well-furnished. The chairs were padded with ivory-colored cushions; lamps and candles illuminated the long table with the exquisite china place settings. A dozen officers rose and bowed to welcome her. It was like entering another world…or rather disappearing back into the one which she had left.
If the floor would only stay steady beneath her feet, she would think herself attending another dinner party of the London season.
Shawn was introducing all his officers, and Belle curtseyed and greeted them all, though she could not recall their names a moment after they were spoken. Thankfully, the men did not seem to expect much from her. It was enough to have two fine ladies amongst them. As more than one gallant told her once they were seated, there were few enough women of quality in the whole Caribbean, never mind a ship like this.
"But it's such a lovely ship," she exclaimed. "I never knew they made them like this."
"I'm not surprised at that, Your Ladyship," the man to her right remarked. He was rather tall, with a commanding presence and a charming smile. She wondered what color his hair might be beneath the periwig.
It nearly made her giggle to see men wearing the fashionable hairpieces again. Belle had always thought the fashion a trifle silly, and after months seeing men wearing their hair loose, it seemed downright ridiculous. She wished Shawn would take his off. He had dressed for dinner, and she missed his flowing brown hair.
"Why is that?" she responded appropriately, drawing her attention back to the gentleman's conversation rather than his appearance.
"Well, your experience at sea has been rather limited until now. Merchant fleets and pirate ships are no place for a lady like yourself. Now, I trust, you will comprehend the superiority of the Royal Navy to any other ships in the world." He inclined his head slightly towards Belle, as he simultaneously complimented her and himself.
The clatter of silver hitting glass brought Belle's attention to the seat across from her, where Chloe was placed. Her friend was looking furious, and Belle was pleased it was not her who was the source of such anger.
"It is strange you should say so, Lieutenant," she hissed at the man who had just been speaking, "seeing as how there is no earthly way you could have captured the Vengeance if its captain had not permitted it." Her chin lifted with pride at the end of this speech.
Belle could only stare at her, open-mouthed in astonishment. She knew Chloe had been growing…attached to the captain, but that she could sit there and defend pirates to their rescuers! It was unthinkable! "Chloe, I hardly think it is appropriate for you to discuss matters of which you know nothing."
"I know that the Vengeance was able to commandeer a British merchant vessel without a single life being lost. I know that Captain Blackheart pledged himself for our safety, and we are all safely delivered into the care of the magnificent Royal Navy." Her tone dripped sarcasm.
"Not all of us," Belle returned, wincing with pain as she thought of her father.
Shawn cleared his throat. He was seated at the head of the table, directly between the two ladies, and up until this point, he had been silent. Belle looked up at the noise but found, with some surprise, that he was staring at Chloe, instead of herself—and with an expression of satisfied approval. Realizing Belle was watching him, he turned to smile at her and directly said, "Evans, as you have started this argument, it is best you close it by picking a subject less debatable."
"Most willingly, Sir," replied Lieutenant Evans, the man on Belle's right. "I might begin by offering a toast to the health and happiness of your future bride."
Belle blushed and lowered her gaze as the men drank in her name. It was not the compliment that unsettled her, but rather the mention of her upcoming marriage. The idea of it had been pushed aside by her father's sudden death, and while she was glad to be by Shawn's side again, she could not see herself being ready for matrimony any time soon. She needed time to grieve, and yet, with no father to shield her, no mother to guide her, it would appear she had no options but to wed as quickly as possible. To stay in Jamaica without husband or guardian would be scandalous. Her father would never have approved.
But no sooner had the men resumed their seats than Chloe started in again. "I notice one distinct difference between this ship and the one I last left. On the Vengeance, no man would think of sitting down while there were ladies present without seats." Belle could only wonder what evil spirit had control of her friend's mouth that night.
The man called Evans stared at the brunette in confusion. "Your Ladyship, I must beg the privilege of understanding you. Are not you situated comfortably?"
Chloe smiled a smile full of poison, as she tipped her wine glass to him. "Yes, Lieutenant, I am. You, however, need your eyes examined, for from where I sit, I see one lady standing, and I know from yours, you can see another."
Evans choked on his food, as his eyes lifted, and he realized who she meant. He leaned in closely and lowered his voice to the most discreet whisper, before he ventured to say, "The women in question are your servants, are they not?"
"Bravo! Well spotted," returned Chloe, not bothering to modulate the sound of her own voice. "I beg pardon. You have eyes in your head after all. It's a good thing, too; a requisite quality in a sailor, I believe."
Evans continued to stare at Lady Wesley for a moment, puzzled, before turning to his captain. "Sir, I have not the gift of understanding this lady."
Shawn merely smiled. "That's all right, Rex. I believe I'm beginning too." And he again gazed at Chloe with strange pleasure, while ordering chairs to be vacated for the use of Mimi and Jan.
Belle could hardly find such a change in her fiancé promising, and Chloe's comments so far this evening had already distressed her. Addressing herself to Rex, therefore, she replied smoothly, "If you have trouble comprehending Lady Wesley, it is merely because she is of a nature not to be understood by one such as yourself. You see, my friend finds strange pleasure in the company of pirates."
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Belle regretted them. The table fell silent, Shawn shot her a disapproving glance, and Chloe turned red, though with embarrassment or fury, it was impossible to discern.
Lieutenant Evans was the first to speak after this startling declaration. "Is this true, Your Ladyship?" he demanded of Chloe, his eyes screaming disdain. "You have a sympathy for your captors?"
Chloe continued to glance at Belle in the most sadly reproachful manner, as she answered, "Yes, I believe I do, but then, it's hard to hate a man who saves your best friend's life."
Belle winced at the none-too-subtle reminder, but she quickly summoned back all her pride. "I was properly grateful to the Captain at the time, as you no doubt recall, Chloe. Forgive me if my father's death has somewhat swallowed up my gratitude."
"That wasn't his fault!" Chloe protested sharply. "You know it wasn't. Why are you being like this, Belle? If you only knew—" She cut off abruptly, returning her full attention to her meal.
"If I only knew what?" Belle pressed her.
"I do believe it's starting to rain outside," Shawn interposed smoothly. "Quite glad not to be out at sea in that, you know."
The other officers seemed to sense their assistance was required, and the men carried on a general, pleasant conversation throughout the next three courses. Chloe spoke not a word; her head stayed bent over her plate. And Belle, out of humor with herself and all those around her, could scarcely recollect the answers to the commonest inquiries the sailors made of her.
~~*~~
It had been all Shawn could do not to drag Lady Chloe Wesley out of the room during supper and demand to know everything she knew and felt about Captain Blackheart. Only the presence of Belle and his officers had restrained him. His patience, however, was already stretched to the limit, and when the meal was over and the ladies rose, instead of turning to Belle, as everyone expected, he immediately offered his arm to her friend.
He cared naught for the stares of his men. Let them think him fickle if they chose, but he could not look at Belle's wounded expression without pain. He chose not to look at her at all. "I believe you have some interest in the storm, Lady Wesley?" he asked, when she hung back from his proffered attention. "I saw you watching its approach and would be honored if you would allow me to show you Nature in all its fearsome glory."
Chloe's expression of affront turned into one of surprise. He knew it had to be the strangest request anyone had ever made of her, and he prayed she would see it as it really was—an attempt to speak with her alone. She said nothing for a long time, and everyone around them seemed to be awaiting her response with baited breath.
"I would be delighted," she murmured, slipping her arm through his.
Rex stepped forward to block their path. "Commodore," he warned, with an eloquent glance at Belle.
"Lieutenant, escort Lady Black to the cabin." Shawn's authoritative tone left no room for question, and the others parted to allow him through with Chloe at his side.
He still could not look at Belle.
Shawn spoke not a word as he led Chloe to the ship's rail. They were soaked within minutes. The thunder and lightening were still at a distance, but he knew they would be here within an hour at most. The wind clutched at Chloe's skirts, and she struggled for balance. Shawn's hat and wig were lost in the breeze; he didn't care.
"What's this all about, Commodore?" she demanded finally. He knew she was speaking normally, but the wind pulled her words away, so they barely struck his ear. Perfect. Anyone beyond them would never be able to overhear their discourse.
"You have a sympathy for pirates," he began.
The lady's back stiffened, and her eyes flared. He could see the righteous anger pouring off of her as easily as the rain matting the hair to her head. "I hardly believe that is your affair, Sir. There is no connection that entitles you to—"
"No, there is no connection with you," Shawn interrupted hastily. The quicker he got this out, the better. He leaned closer to her and saw her start, though she did not back away. "But for the sake of those we both care about, you must disregard all the formalities and hear me. I have my sympathies, too."
Chloe searched his eyes before inclining her head slowly. "I'm listening."
"I owe Captain Blackheart a life debt. I owe him more than that, but that is enough for now. He has forbidden me from using my influence on his behalf. I know not your relationship to the Captain." Here, Shawn thought he saw her blush. "But if you have any concern for him, I must beg to know it now."
Lady Wesley looked unsettled by his request, but she answered as well she could. "I…that is to say, anything I could do…I would be most happy to help…the Captain in any way within my power."
"Good." Shawn nodded. He cast one glance around the deck. In the distance, two common sailors worked at bringing in the rigging. They were the only people in sight. His hand dove beneath the waistcoat of his uniform, and he pulled something out of the inner pocket by his heart. "If you mean to help, shake my hand," he ordered.
Arching a curious eyebrow, Chloe obediently produced a hand slicked by rain. Shawn abruptly took it and passed the object into her grasp. "I believe you mean what you say, Lady Wesley." He dropped her hand and eyed the foreboding clouds overhead. "Only a fool or a madman would venture out in a storm like this."
With another significant look, Commodore Brady, the pride of His Majesty's Royal Navy, walked away from his act of treason with his head held high against the beating rain.
~~*~~
Heavy footsteps echoed across the decks above them, marching in military precision. Rain splattered against the wood and echoed strangely in the darkness of the cramped hold. Gale-force winds buffeted the Vengeance, causing it to roll frighteningly over the white-capped waves.
But inside the hold, all was quiet activity. With no regard for the approaching storm or the soldiers keeping watch above, pirates were lifting boards in the floor, exposing a cavern only the ship's crew knew about. No word was necessary as weapons were dispersed to each and every man held captive on their own ship.
Jason waited at the foot of the ladder, his eyes never leaving the trapdoor that concealed their rebellion. He stood poised to give the signal at a moment's notice. Finally, he heard the slight heave of the planks being put back in position. He turned as one of the men approached him.
"Here, Jase," Hawk whispered, extending a saber and brace of pistols.
Jason's eyes widened. He had been surprised and pleased when he came to question the men on their whereabouts during Lord Black's murder to discover they were all involved in hiding the majority of their arsenal in the hold. The crew had never known of Brady and Jason's momentary hope of being spared through the Viscount's interference and had taken action of their own.
It was to their credit now.
Jason accepted the proffered weapons. "Whose are these?" he asked almost inaudibly as he fastened the arms to his side. As he had been ashore during their storage, Jason's own weapons had all been confiscated by the British soldiers.
Hawk shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Kevin's," he muttered finally.
Yet again, Jason struggled to hide his shock. If these were Kev's, then he had handed them over before the attack on Lord Black. He would have been unarmed. That made no sense. Perhaps he had carried more than one sword. Many of the men had kept multiple weapons, thus able to hand some over to the soldiers today and leave the rest buried for their use.
Jason pushed thoughts of Lambert and the murder out of his head. There would be time to dwell on them later, when he might come to a reasonable conclusion. For now, he had to keep his wits about him. The men looked to him as leader with their captain gone.
"Pass the word. We wait in silence until I give the signal. If I'm right, these soldiers will quickly get bored of their patrols and sit themselves down to a meal and cards. That's when we'll attack."
Hawk nodded and began sending the whispered command among the waiting pirates, who promptly settled back to wait.
Jason cast a glance at the one small porthole, where rain was beating down unmercifully. "Come on, Brady," he urged under his breath. He would give his friend an hour to find a way back to the Vengeance.
They could spare no more.
~~*~~
"So was the storm worthy of your attention, Chloe?" Belle spat out as soon as her fiancé and her friend returned to the cabin.
Mimi schooled her face to show no emotion. Inside, she was as furious as even her mistress could be. That Belle could be betrayed by the people who were supposed to love her most—and in front of her very face—seemed absolutely unthinkable.
Her mental efforts to vindicate Chloe took another dive as she saw a blush of shame suffuse the brunette's cheeks. "It…it was…intriguing," she finally responded in a disjointed fashion.
Shawn, however, seemed to have come to his senses. No sooner had he shut the door upon the raging tempest outside than he flung himself at Belle's feet. He pressed her limp hand to his lips, and Mimi was pleased to see Belle pull it away. She would not be easily placated.
"I think you're under a mistaken apprehension, Belle," the Commodore began, frowning at her withdrawal. "I know my behavior tonight must have seemed inexplicable to you, but I protest, upon my honor, it is not what you think. I wish I could tell you all, but you will have to trust me."
Belle's eyes softened, and Mimi wondered if sweet words were all it would take to win back her favor after such an affront. Mimi would not be so easily subdued. She turned her eyes upon Chloe, who was smiling with some secret delight, despite the fact that she was dripping wet. She seemed unconscious of having done anything to offend Belle, and her hand kept traveling to the neckline of her bodice. Mimi frowned. She had thought Chloe many things, but never fickle. Nothing made sense today; the world was upside down.
Belle's soft voice brought Mimi's attention back to the lovers.
"I want to trust you, but your behavior tonight…what was it all about? Can you give me any explanation for it which is not insulting to me in the highest?"
Her words seemed to bring Chloe back to herself. She burst out laughing. "Oh, Belle, you don't think…surely, you can't think that Commodore Brady is interested in me romantically?"
Mimi released a slow breath. Lady Wesley's honest amusement at the ludicrousness of the idea put everything back to rights. Chloe wasn't a good enough liar to be capable of deceiving her dearest friend without a blush.
"Then what were you talking about?" Belle demanded, though she too looked rather pacified.
"What else? Storms and my improper behavior at dinner," Chloe continued, though Mimi noticed she turned her face to the glass this time. Now she was lying.
Belle was not as adept at reading people as her maid, however, and was quite contented. She returned her hand to Shawn and moved to let him sit beside her on the settee. Mimi sat quietly attending her needlework while they conversed in lovers' whispers.
Every few moments, she turned her eyes upon Chloe, who was trying to occupy herself with a book. The lady did not turn a page in a quarter of an hour. She was restless. Her eyes would travel from the window to Belle and Shawn to the clock on the wall, without any regularity. She would pace about the room, before sitting upon a completely different article of furniture than the one she had left, thus making every chair damp.
Mimi watched this behavior in silence as long as she possibly could, before venturing to comment. "Would Your Ladyship be more comfortable if you changed out of those wet clothes? You'll catch a chill if you don't."
Chloe blinked twice at her, with unfeigned bewilderment. "My clothes?" she repeated dumbly.
Mimi frowned. She had never seen Chloe in such a state of distraction before.
"Perhaps, Lady Wesley, you would favor us all by reading aloud from that volume?" Commodore Brady interposed smoothly, before anything more could be said.
Mimi's distress deepened. There was a secret between those two; one Belle's betrothed was going out of his way to hide. But why?
"Yes, all right," Chloe answered, though barely seeming to attend him. She began to read in such a disjointed way that Mimi knew she was not attending to the words coming out of her own mouth.
Though, the others didn't seem to notice or mind. Jan had been nodding off ever since supper, and now gave up and began snoring softly in her chair in the corner. Shawn listened with every appearance of attention, and Belle merely yawned behind her fan until she too was lulled into sleep, her head dropping on Shawn's shoulder. Mimi felt some of her anger towards the Commodore dissipate as she saw the tender look in his eyes while he wrapped an arm around her mistress.
Belle had not been asleep five minutes before Chloe shut the book and rose, heading towards the door.
"Lady Wesley!" Shawn reprimanded in a sharp whisper, with a pointed glance in Mimi's direction.
Chloe merely smiled. "No, no, it's all right," she murmured back. "Mimi has a sympathy for pirates, too." With a finger to her lips, imploring Mimi's silence, she slipped out of the cabin, as silently as the sudden gust of wind through the door could allow.
Mimi turned to Shawn for explanation. He merely shrugged, directed his eyes to Belle slumbering peacefully against him, and shook his head. The maid sighed and turned back to her work. She was determined to be awake when Chloe returned, and then, she would force every last secret out of that girl if it took the rest of the night.
~~*~~
Chloe found her progress hampered by the pounding rain. Her clothes were so weighed down as to make it almost impossible to lift her feet. Once again, she cursed the fashion that required her to wear thirty pounds of fabric, just to be considered presentable. At the same time, she was grateful for the overhanging clouds that made sight nearly impossible. Only an occasional flash of lightning illuminated her as she forced her way across deck to the awaiting ladder. The crew was also missing, thankfully hiding from this squall. It seemed Providence had sent the storm for her sake tonight.
Finally, Chloe felt the hatch beneath her fingertips and worked with slippery hands to free the bolt that kept it in place. It sprung open suddenly revealing a darkened passageway. She wished momentarily she had brought a lantern with her, then realized she could not have lit it in any case. She could risk no discovery.
Using only her hands to guide her down passages she had never seen, the lady prayed for direction towards the brig. Voices ahead caught her attention; she listened for a moment and realized she was nearing crew quarters. The passageway diverged, and she took the alternate route. Better not to venture near the men unless she absolutely needed to. She cursed the sudden freezing of her mind that had kept her from asking Shawn questions when he had given her the key.
Chloe paused again at the end of the hall, listening intently. She thought she heard the sounds of movement coming from her left and headed that way. A few steps brought her to a barred door with lamplight glowing behind it. Her instincts told her she had found her destination. Deftly, she lifted the bolts and forced her way into the room.
Brady stood in the middle of one cell, staring at her in open-mouthed surprise. Knowing it wouldn't last long, Chloe shut the door behind her and motioned for him to be quiet.
"Chloe, what the hell…?" he rasped out, while his eyes devoured her. "What do you think you're doing here?"
Chloe smiled, her hand reaching to her bodice and producing a large, silver key. "You could try summoning a bit more civility for your rescuer, you know, Captain," she teased, as she moved towards the cell door.
His hands moved out with lightning speed to grasp hers before she could even put the key in the lock. Outside, another crash of thunder made the boat shake. "Chloe, no! Go put that key back where you found it and pretend you never came here."
It was Chloe's turn to be astonished. "Are you insane, Brady? You want to hang, do you?"
"I won't have you implicated in conspiracy with a pirate," he hissed back at her. "Nor my future brother-in-law, who I suspect gave you that key. If I hang, so be it. But if you think I'm about to let you—"
"Damn it, Brady!" Chloe swore.
Her language took him by surprise, and he dropped her hands. Chloe took advantage of the action to jam the key into the lock.
"What? You thought I was too much of a lady to swear? Considering all you know of me, Captain, that seems rather ridiculous." The lock gave way, and the door swung open.
Brady raised an eyebrow, and she could tell he was struggling not to grin at her. He crossed his arms; his stance determined as he stared her down. "I'm not leaving. You might as well lock that door back now."
"I beg to disagree. You are leaving. You think you're the only one who's allowed to be noble and self-sacrificing? Your hanging does nobody any good. Not me, not Shawn, not Belle…" Chloe paused to draw a steadying breath, before she concluded softly. "Not your father."
Brady's wince showed the words struck home.
"Oh Brady," she continued, in an even gentler voice, as she lifted a hand to his face. "You think I don't know what you're doing? You think Shawn doesn't know? But I knew your father, and the absolute last thing he would have wanted was for his son to die without a fight. He was a strong man, and you're just like him. If you want to pay tribute to his memory, then do it! By walking out of here a free man."
Brady considered her in silence for a long moment, his eyes raking over her every feature. Then, with a suddenness that surprised her, his lips were pressed against hers, and Chloe could do nothing but cling and kiss him back with all the passion in her heart.
He pulled away as suddenly as he had begun, his face still close to hers. His large, strong hands framed her face, and his blue eyes confronted hers, startling in their rare openness. "Come with me."
Chloe felt her heart stop at his impassioned plea. Everything inside of her cried out a yes she knew she could not speak. Without answer, she kissed him softly, memorizing everything about his lips moving against hers. Her hands traced along his back, his neck, his hair, his face, silently committing to memory everything about him. It was a long time—though still, too achingly short—before she pulled away again.
"I can't go," she whispered, pain etched in her face and transferring to his as well. "I want to; you'll never know how much I want to. But if I go, then Shawn will have to follow. The whole Royal Navy will have no mission but to track you down, and all this will be for nothing."
Brady didn't argue. He pulled her left hand to his face and glared down at the offending piece of jewelry there, before yanking it off and throwing it across the room. Chloe allowed him to, though she flinched at the echoing noise the diamond made when it struck wood. Brady jerked her chin up, his eyes demanding her full attention. "You're mine, Chloe. Wait for me."
Chloe shivered at his air of command. The words were not a request. She nodded, her jaw striking against his hand. "I'll wait. I'll wait forever if I have to. But you have to go now, before…"
His lips covered hers once more with overpowering fury, while thunder crashed. The boat tipped beneath them; the lamp crashed to the floor, covering them in darkness. Chloe's legs gave out, and Brady caught her against him. He didn't let go of her arms or her mouth until the ship had righted itself.
Then, in a flash of lightning, he was gone.
Chloe watched him go, then walked on shaky legs to retrieve her discarded ring. The diamond seemed to flicker angrily up at her, until she closed it in her palm. She could not leave it her as evidence, but she would not wear Philip's ring again.
Not ever.
~~*~~
Raucous laughter drifted down below decks. The soldiers were evidently off their guard as they sat around, drinking the Vengeance's rum, and eating their food, and generally doing all in their power to make the confined pirates loathe them more than ever.
Jason saw that hatred mirrored on the face of every man around him. Swords gleamed against the darkness, and he knew it would take all his commanding presence to keep blood from being shed tonight.
"Let's not forget," he whispered to the cluster of angry men around him, "that these are still English sailors. We don't kill Englishmen. The first man to wield his sword or fire his pistol shall have me to answer to."
Half-hearted assent met his order, but Jason had faith in his men. They knew he could lead them to freedom without firing a shot.
With one last glance around, Jason led the way through a concealed trapdoor and had arrived soundlessly at the door of the Captain's cabin before the soldiers knew they had left the hold.
There was no hiding their attack once they forced open the doorway, but by then, it hardly mattered. A dozen of His Majesty's finest were sloppily half-standing, their hands on their scabbards, while the table was littered with food, drink, and cards. On the other side of this encounter were thirty ferocious pirates, their cutlasses exposed, their pistols aiming at the sailors' hearts.
Jason lifted an eyebrow, smirking. "Well, gentlemen, I believe we've interrupted your game. We'll remember to send the cards with you, though I imagine they'll get a bit damp tonight."
Laughter echoed round the room, while the naval men blanched. At a nod from Jason, pirates hurried to escort the usurpers top side. The downpour made all the shouts of the soldiers go unheard, and they were slipping across the deck in well-made boots, while barefoot brigands marched across the sloping, wet surface without a stumble.
Jason saw them stripped of all their weapons and settled into the longboat. With a sudden stroke of brilliance, he removed the oars, sparing the men an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid we're going to be needing those."
"For what?" shot out one of the braver and less intoxicated of the lot.
"Well, for throwing at you if you try to board the Miranda before we've sailed away, I imagine," Jason returned guilelessly to the snickers of the surrounding pirates. "Have a nice trip."
A nod to Hawk and the ropes were released—none too slowly, it must be admitted—which sent the longboat tumbling into the raging sea. Jason flicked the deck of cards down after them, and a rousing cheer went up from the men.
"Enough!" Jason barked. "I want us sailing out of port in twenty minutes, no more. Release the sails, lift the anchor. Come on! Move!"
A flurry of bustle and scurry met the first mate's commands, and Jason was left to watch alone the soldiers' lack of progress towards their own ship. A sudden distinct movement to the waves near them caught his attention, and minutes later, he was grinning as he helped his best friend up over the rails.
"I was afraid for a moment you wouldn't make it, Captain," he remarked pleasantly, as Brady spit up the water he'd swallowed in his swim.
Brady straightened, grinning. "What? You doubted me?"
Jason returned the smile. "Forgive me. It won't happen again. I expect you'll be wanting the wheel then, Captain?"
Brady's eyes flickered to the helm with something like affection. Jason knew the feeling. They'd been handing over the duties of the ship for far too long. He followed his mate's progress to the wheel, while the other men shouted greetings towards their captain.
"What's the plan now, Brady?" Jason asked, as Brady took his place by the ship's wheel.
Brady turned towards him, and a sudden strike of lightning lit his face with an almost inhuman gleam. "What is it always? It's time to wreak vengeance."
Jason felt a shudder go down his spine, and his hand reached unconsciously for his sword. Brady's father was dead. Before the night was out, Jason knew blood would be shed to compensate. Spanish blood. He could already feel the blood lust settling upon him.
Under the direction of a madman, the Vengeance sailed from port.
On the deck of the Miranda, a lone man and two women watched silently as it glided away.
