Moonlight on the Caribbean

A/N:  For the record, unless explicitly stated, there is no relationship between characters in this story, just because they're related on Days.  For instance, Austin Reed, Lucas Roberts, and Philip Kiriakis all have roles of various importance throughout this fic; they are not in any way related or even known to each other (except as occurs in various parts of the fic).  Also, I gave Rex the last name Evans because at the time I wrote him into the story, he was assumed to be Marlena and Tony's son, and DiMera is not an English name, but even then, I was not writing him as Evans as Marlena's son.  It's just a name; he's no relation to Belle.  That would be just icky. 

Also, this chapter marks the first of a few crossover appearances by characters from the movie "Pirates of the Caribbean."  (Sorry, couldn't resist.)  This chapter will still make perfect sense if you haven't seen the movie, and I don't believe it spoils anything important for the movie if you read this first.  (Though maybe a bit.)  Future chapters will probably contain more spoilers for PotC, but my story will always make sense even if you haven't seen the movie.  (But you should still watch it anyway, because it's FANTASTIC!)

Chapter Nineteen

Violent storms had kept the H.M.S. Miranda anchored off the small, uncharted island for nearly two weeks, before they were finally able to set sail for Jamaica.  They hastened there at all possible speed, as Commodore Brady was eager to reach Port Royal before the hurricane season truly began.  And after another fortnight of continual travel, Mimi was able to trace in the distant horizon the island they had set out for so many months ago.

"Is it really Jamaica?" Belle asked eagerly, shading her eyes against the mid-afternoon sun.  She leaned precariously over the rail, as if she could somehow urge the boat to land faster. 

Mimi nearly smiled.  It was the happiest she had seen her mistress in months.  The sea had never agreed with Lady Black, and she had made no secret of her haste to leave it behind forever.

"It is indeed, m'lady," came the answer from the stalwart sailor by her side.  "We should be able to dock at Port Royal with the tide."

Mimi carefully schooled her expression into indifference, both at the message and the man who gave it.  Lieutenant Evans had rarely left Belle's presence since their first night aboard.  He seemed to think Shawn's negligence of his fiancé and attentiveness to Chloe that night had opened the door for his own attentions to Belle.  Mimi supposed she could not really find fault with Rex for his infatuation with her mistress; who could help loving Belle?  And he didn't know the true cause for Shawn's behavior that evening.  It was a secret confined only to herself, Commodore Brady, and Lady Wesley. 

If she closed her eyes, Mimi thought she could almost catch again that last glimpse of Jason as the Vengeance sailed away, his wet, wild hair illuminated by a flash of lightning as he stood at the helm next to his cabin.  It might be the last sight of him she ever had.  She sighed unknowingly at the thought.

Belle heard the sound, however, and whirled around to face her maid.  "Isn't it wonderful, Mimi?" she prompted ecstatically.  "We'll be on land again.  Real, solid land."  She spoke the last word like heaven itself could offer her no greater joy.  Her face was red, whether from excitement or too much exposure to the sun, Mimi was unsure.  The maid was positive, though, that Belle was sweltering in the black mourning dress.  Lady Black refused to wear anything else; she would continue to grieve, she said, until her wedding day.

Mimi forced a smile for Belle's sake, though it did not reach her eyes.  "I'm pleased for you, my lady."

Belle's gentle blue eyes searched her face with compassion.  "But not for yourself?"

Mimi winced at the sympathy.  It was worse than anything else.  Belle, who had lost so much on this voyage, was feeling sorry for her.  The thought was unacceptable; it made Mimi pull herself together as nothing else could have done.  "Of course I'm happy, m'lady.  It's been a long time since I've felt grass beneath my feet."

"Well, you won't find much of that in Port Royal either, I'm afraid," interposed Rex.  "Cobblestones and dirty streets, rather.  But that's all right.  You won't be there long.  Philip Kiriakis will be waiting at the docks to escort you to Titan plantation."

"Oh, how can you be so sure?" Belle asked, with innocent curiosity.

"Commodore Brady sent a boat ahead last night with a message to be dispatched to Titan.  Port Royal is no fit place for ladies of your stature, and I'm sure it will be a relief for Mr. Kiriakis to be reunited with his fiancé after all this time."  Rex made a face to show how disagreeable he himself would find Chloe Wesley as his future wife; the two had not made friends since their argument the first night—especially considering the sailor blamed Chloe for Blackheart's escape, though silently, as he had no proof.

Mimi knew all this, but her grimace was for quite a different reason.  Whatever Philip Kiriakis's eagerness to see his betrothed might be, she knew nothing would upset Chloe more.  Chloe had been surprisingly placid for the last month, staying in the cabin as much as possible, claiming indisposition.  Mimi believed, however, that her sudden illness was merely heart-sickness over her impending marriage to a man she could not love.  Mimi pitied her and was glad that with all the burdens she had to bear, a situation like Chloe's was not one of them. 

Similar thoughts might have been running through Belle's head, for her reply to Rex's polite words was rather hesitant.  "Yes, well, I shall be glad to see a familiar face again."

"I trust you have not had a disagreeable time on board the Miranda, my lady," Rex interjected quickly, with an earnest look at the petite blonde that would have shown to anyone less innocent than Lady Black how much his heart was involved in pleasing her.

"Oh, no!  I mean, it's been wonderful, or it would have been except…"  Belle plucked at the heavy black sleeve of her gown and looked away, unable to finish her sentence.

Evans clasped her hand and bowed over it.  "Your loss will not go unavenged, my lady.  The whole of His Majesty's Royal Navy will soon be involved in hunting down the infamous pirates who committed this dastardly act."

Mimi's blood boiled at the lieutenant's officious gallantry.  The sentiment disturbed her, for she feared for Jason's safety—despite the fact that he'd proven himself more than capable of slipping through the hands of the law.  More than that, Rex's courtesy towards her mistress intruded on what was reserved only for Commodore Brady.  Since his loyalty towards the captain and crew of the Vengeance had become known to her, Mimi liked Belle's husband-to-be more than ever.

"A bit over-eager, aren't we there, Evans?" spoke up a most welcome voice.

Two sweet, feminine smiles were instantly the possession of Shawn Brady upon his approaching the small group, and Rex reluctantly relinquished his hold on Belle's hand. 

He saluted his commanding officer.  "Commodore, I apologize.  I was simply informing Lady Black of your intention to report to Commodore Norrington as soon as we come ashore."

Commodore Brady fidgeted, and Mimi hoped she was the only one how realized how guilty he looked.  "Of course.  It's standard procedure after any mission."

"You mean you won't be coming with us to Titan?" Belle pouted up at him.

Shawn squeezed her hand as he pulled her closer to his side.  "I wish I could, my love.  I am not yet released from my duties and don't know when I will be.  Commodore Norrington is the ranking officer in the Caribbean, and it is up to him whether or not to grant me leave.  I'll be with you as quickly as possible, I swear it."

Belle sighed, and Mimi knew how deep her disappointment ran.  Shawn was Belle's last stalwart defender, after the loss of her father and—Mimi thought, though she did not say—Captain Blackheart as well.

But once again, Belle relied on that strength everyone had thought she lacked to keep from showing anything more than passing regret.  "Well, you must tell this Commodore that you have a fiancé who is waiting to be a wife, and he must not delay you from her long."

"I hardly needed that reminder, Belle," Shawn murmured, bending his face lower over hers.

Belle was standing on tiptoes, ready to be kissed, when she realized they were still surrounded by an audience.  She backed away, clearing her throat and looking pointedly at the two onlookers.  Mimi was amused, even more so when she saw the disgruntled look on Rex Evans' face, but she could not leave until her mistress sent her away.

Shawn knew the protocol as well.  He straightened to attention and turned to his first mate.  "Lieutenant, see that everything is ready for our anchorage in Port Royal."

"Aye aye, Sir," Rex saluted and turned crisply away.

"Mimi, I think you should probably go check on Lady Wesley.  She was still feeling ill this morning.  Perhaps learning that Mr. Kiriakis is awaiting our arrival will improve her condition."

Mimi heard the message between Belle's words.  She was to warn Chloe of her awaiting fiancé, so that she would have time to prepare herself for the unpleasant reality to come.  Mimi thought Shawn was aware of how things stood as well.  The look on his face was distinctly sympathetic.

Mimi nodded and curtseyed as she was dismissed.  She felt no qualms about leaving Belle and Shawn alone together.  They were both of them too honorable for it to be improper, and it pleased her that Belle should finally have some share of happiness and love.  It appeared Chloe and Mimi's time had been and gone.  Mimi cast one last glance over her shoulder and saw Shawn's head bending down once again towards Belle, saw him whisper something in her ear that made a soft smile cross her face. 

Feeling strangely contented with the sight, Mimi proceeded to the cabin…where quite a different view met her eyes.

"My lady!" she exclaimed, rushing to Chloe's bedside.  She held back the long, dark tresses and patted Chloe's back while the other girl retched into a chamberpot. 

Until this moment, Mimi had never realized how truly ill Lady Wesley was.  She hid it well, but Mimi could see that this last month had been hell on her friend's body.  She was thin and pale; there were frightening dark circles beneath her eyes.

This was more than mere heartbreak.

"Chloe, what's wrong?" Mimi asked, as Chloe finally lay back, exhausted, against the pillows.  She placed a hand to the lady's forehead and found it hot with perspiration.  "How long have you been ill?"

Chloe batted her hand away.  "It's nothing, Mimi.  A little seasickness, that's all.  It will pass."

"You've never been seasick a day in your life, my lady.  What ails you?"

Chloe's bitter laughter echoed around the tiny cabin.  "Who knows?  God's punishment for my sins perhaps.  Or maybe I was bitten by one of those wretched insects on the islands."

Mimi shivered at Chloe's cool, careless tone.  Was she so cavalier about life and death?  "We shall dock in Port Royal tonight, my lady.  I'm sure a physician can be sent for then."

Chloe's expression softened a bit as she gazed into Mimi's worried face.  She took the maid's hand in hers and pressed it.  "Don't fret so, Mimi.  I was only teasing.  I imagine I caught a cold from being out in the rain so long."

"But you will see a doctor?" Mimi pressed.

"If I don't improve within a few days, you may feel free to call in all the specialists Jamaica may hold," Chloe teased, with a shadow of her formerly joyous spirit.  "But I'm convinced there will be no need.  A day or two will set me to rights."

Mimi was not quite satisfied but allowed the subject to drop.  She still had not delivered the bad news.  "Lady Wesley, I must tell you something."

"What is it?"  Chloe struggled to sit up, her eyes widening in panic.  "Is it Brady?  Have they caught him?"

"Brady?  Who?"  Mimi frowned, her eyebrows coming together in concentration.  Chloe's look of horror increased, her hands coming to rest on her mouth, as though she had told some life-threatening secret.  "Brady…Captain Blackheart.  Is that his name?  Brady Blackheart."  Mimi's eyes bulged, and her jaw dropped as sudden comprehension descended on her.  "Brady Black.  The captain was Brady Black?  All this time, he's Belle's brother!"

Mimi was nearly screaming by the end of her outburst, and Chloe caught hold of her arm, sharp nails digging into her skin.  "You can't say a word, Mimi, not one word.  Not to Belle, or anyone," she hissed.

"Why not?  Surely Belle has more right than anyone to know.  Her brother's alive, Chloe!"

"For now," Chloe pointed out with quiet sincerity.

The full gravity of the situation caught Mimi in those two small words spoken by the woman who loved him.  She understood all without needing an explanation, and she pitied them all more than ever.  "I won't say a word; I swear it," she promised.  "You can depend on me."

A smile flitted momentarily across Chloe's face.  "Don't I always?"

Mimi returned the gesture with a grin of her own, which quickly faded.  "Yes.  And don't worry, I'm not here about the Captain or the Vengeance.  It's about what's waiting for us on shore.  Or rather who…"

Chloe sighed, sinking back into lethargy.  "Philip," she responded with certainty. 

Mimi was shocked at how indifferent she sounded, then she looked down at Chloe's bare hand.  Hope rose within her.  "You shan't marry him, my lady?"

Lady Wesley shook her head emphatically.  "Not if my life depended on it."

Mimi opened her mouth to reply, but before another word could pass between them, Jan Spears skipped lightly into the room, putting an end to all further conversation. 

~~*~~

Chloe made herself rise to see the entrance into Port Royal.  She felt ill; every step was a challenge not to vomit, but she kept herself together.  She was going to stand tall, with her head held high, as she faced down Philip Kiriakis and threw his cursed ring back in his face.  She wasn't sure what she was going to do after that.  She had no place to go, no plausible excuse for staying in Jamaica, but she knew she had to stay here, and she could not marry Philip.

She had promised to wait for Brady.

Her stomach lurched again inside her, and her hand went to her belly.  What was this strange disease that was taking over her body?  Her words to Mimi had been flippant, but in truth, she half-believed she was facing the wrath of the Almighty for her immorality. 

Chloe forced herself to think on something else.  Her eyes struggled to make out distinct shapes in the dim twilight.  She thought she caught sight of women strolling along the docks, joined by men on every side.  Even from this distance, uproarious, drunken laughter echoed throughout the streets, along with the occasional bang of a gunshot. 

The lady shivered.  Now she knew why her parents had always kept her far away from certain sections of London after dark.  And London had nothing on Port Royal, home of pirates, buccaneers, and murderers of all shapes and sizes.

"There's no reason to fear, Lady Wesley."  

She jumped, not realizing that Commodore Brady had escorted Belle to the rail as well, Mimi and Jan trailing after them. 

"I'm not afraid," Chloe protested, though her quavering voice belied her.

Shawn laughed.  "You would be stupid if you were not a bit on edge, Lady Wesley, and I know you are an intelligent woman.  Port Royal is no place for a lady.  But you shall be escorted directly from the Miranda to the custody of your fiancé, and from there to the absolute safety of Titan sugarcane plantation."

Chloe felt there was some warning meant directly for her in those words.  Shawn was telling her not to fight this, to go placidly.  Port Royal is no place for a lady.  He was probably right, and for once, she felt no desire to rebel against male authority.  If she defied Philip now and was left to her own protection in a pirate town, there was no telling what would become of her.  She might even sink as low as the women selling themselves on the docks.

No, Shawn was right.  She had to be smart about this.  She would not marry Philip, but tonight was not the time to let him know this.  In the darkness, no one could see her reach into the pocket of her gown and fumble for the diamond ring she had intended to present her fiancé with upon arrival.  She felt it slip onto her ring finger, left hand and winced as a wave of betrayal hit her.

It doesn't mean anything, she assured herself.  I won't marry him.  I'll wait for Brady.

But surely it was better to wait for Brady from the security of a country mansion than from a city full of corruption and vice.  Her conscience only partially soothed by this resolution, Chloe allowed Shawn to help her down into the boat which would take the ladies and their escorts to shore.

As promised, Philip was waiting for them the moment the boat touched the dock.  His eyes eagerly skimmed over all the people present, settling for a moment with fond satisfaction on Chloe, before moving on.  "Where is Lord Black?" he demanded of Shawn as the Commodore stepped out to assist the ladies.

Shawn winced and then scowled, and Chloe silently though less publicly agreed with him. 

But it was Belle who responded.  "He's dead," she said quietly but firmly, as Shawn put her ashore.  She wavered for a moment in his arms, and Chloe wasn't sure whether it was from the feeling of being on land or from the pain of the admission.  Shawn, however, quickly put her to rights.

"Dead?  Dead!?" Philip repeated shrilly, the sound grating on the ears of all present.  "How?  It was that pirate Blackheart, wasn't it?  I told you," sticking his finger threateningly in Shawn's face, "I told you all this catering to pirates would end in something like this.  And where is the scoundrel?  Have you caught him yet?"

"He got away," Shawn managed through gritted teeth.  Chloe averted her gaze, so no one would see her smile.  No one listening would realize that Shawn's anger was directed at Philip and not at the pirate's escape.  No one, that is, except the one who had helped him do it.

"What a surprise."  Philip's cultured tones reeked of disdain.  "Yet again, we see the utter inadequacy of the British Royal Navy."

Chloe felt called upon to interfere, which she did as soon as Shawn had placed her feet upon the dock.  "Good evening, Mr. Kiriakis," she said smoothly, knowing any greeting from her would quickly distract him from his irritation with the Commodore.

In seconds, Philip's demeanor had become one of ingratiating attention.  "Lady Chloe," he murmured, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips with offensive gallantry.

Chloe resisted the urge to snatch her hand away and accepted the gesture with tolerable calm.  A gaze over Philip's shoulder at Shawn, who nodded encouragement, helped tremendously.  She liked the Commodore more every day; she imagined he was rather like an older brother would have been, if she'd ever had siblings.

"Welcome to Jamaica, my love," Philip continued, standing tall again.

At that precise moment, one of the doxies on the corner shrieked with laughter and yelled out a proposition that made the cheeks of all four women redden. 

"I think it would be wisest if you took the ladies to Titan immediately," Shawn spoke over the noise, as he handed Jan—the last of the women—onto the dock.

Philip's eyes flickered over to them.  "Yes, I think that might be for the best.  The carriage awaits.  M'lady…"  He held his arm out for Chloe to receive it.

Chloe wished no further scenes.  Her stomach was churning again, and the sooner she was out of Philip's presence and asleep in a warm, soft bed the better.  She took his arm and led the way to the carriage, Mimi and Jan at her heels. 

Belle lingered behind with Shawn to say her temporary farewells.  No one begrudged her them, even when the carriage was forced to wait a quarter of an hour.

~~*~~

Commodore Norrington stared back impassively at the two men still standing at attention before him.  He was by nature a cold man; one of those diffident fellows that characterized the personality of an entire class of English gentlemen.  He had few friends, no family to speak of, and many doubted whether he even had a first name.  He had made one foray into romance rather late in life and was not so pleased with the result as to attempt it again.  He liked to think of himself as a self-made man.  Though a legacy left to him by his grandfather had allowed him to purchase his original commission, he had worked his way through the ranks through hard work, skill, and years of faithful service and devotion to the law. 

Perhaps all of those reasons attributed to his hatred for the young Commodore before him.  No one could have presented a more galling contrast to himself than Shawn Douglas Brady.  He knew enough of the officer's history to be aware that he had a wealthy, loving family in England—one too which had a long tradition of service in the armed forces—who had purchased him a rank which had taken Norrington a decade to achieve.  Brady was a favorite among the officers and men, as well as the families of the Jamaican planters, who never hesitated to give him the invitations which Norrington secretly pined for.  He was an upstart, pretentious child who never hesitated to give an opinion, no matter how unqualified it was.  More than that, he was rash, and Norrington hated rashness above all else.  And his latest iniquity involved the acquisition of a pretty young fiancé who supposedly loved him deeply.

All of this was reason enough, in Norrington's opinion, to justify hating him.

Therefore, his joy at hearing Shawn Brady had allowed the pirate Blackheart to slip through his fingers was not to be described, though it took the form of severe reprimand.  "He escaped?  You had him in the brig, to which you alone had the key, and he escaped?  Would you mind telling me, Commodore, how this is possible?"

Shawn did not even flinch.  His eyes remained coolly aloof, as he answered the charge.  "I don't know, sir.  They do say the Vengeance is impossible to catch; I would assume this applied to its captain as well."

"No pirate is that illusive," Norrington snapped.

"Really?"  Shawn arched an eyebrow and looked at him in that impertinent manner which Norrington loathed so much.  "Has Captain Sparrow been caught in my absence, sir?"

Norrington got to his feet with an abrupt stomp.  "My conduct is not under discussion here, Mr. Brady.  Yours is.  I shall expect full statements from all the men on your crew before the end of the week.  You can be fully assured that my report on this matter will be given to the governor, along with my recommendation for your immediate removal from command, if I find anything to justify my belief that your negligence was responsible for this entire fiasco."

Shawn's stoic expression did not crack.  He merely bowed his acquiescence.  "Myself and my men are entirely at your disposal, Commodore."

"Very well," Norrington returned coldly.  "You are dismissed."

"Aye, aye, sir."  Commodore Brady saluted his superior and left the office.

Lieutenant Evans appeared ready to do the same, when a command from Norrington stopped him.  "Yes, Commodore?"

"I'll take your account of the capture and escape now."  Norrington was unsure what his opinion was on Brady's second in command.  He had never had much call for interaction with him before, but he was willing to give the boy the benefit of the doubt.  Norrington was, after all, a fair man.

Rex hesitated momentarily, indecisive about whether to support his captain or not.

"Speak out, Lieutenant," Norrington ordered.  "You need have no fear of repercussions from me.  Was Commodore Brady's account accurate or was it not?"

"I have no reason to believe it anything but, sir," the officer returned, all affronted pride.  "Commodore Brady has given you his word, and there is no reason to distrust the pledge of a man of honor."

Norrington felt the familiar bile rising in the back of his throat.  Of course, Rex's loyalty would lie with Shawn.  Everyone's always did.  "Then why did you waver a moment ago?"

"Not for that reason, Commodore.  There was one aboard the Miranda that night whose actions I find suspect, but I cannot abide to accuse without proof."

"What would lead you to suspect them then, if you have no proof?"

Rex pondered this, before deciding to confess.  "I was told that one of the ladies we took aboard with us had developed—shall we say—an affinity for the pirates while they were being held captive.  I am loath against making an allegation of dishonor against a lady, but at the same time—"

Norrington cut him off with a sadistic smile and a comment to match.  "Since when is there honor among ladies, Lieutenant?"

"Sir?" Evans asked, his brow creasing in confusion.

Norrington was not about to explain himself.  He waved the observation away.  "Never mind.  Continue, Lieutenant."

"At the same time, I think it would be a misapplication of resources to question the men and take them away from their duties, when the answer may lie outside the reach of military justice."

Norrington sighed.  If this was true, Shawn Brady had outwitted him once again.

~~*~~

Titan Sugar Plantation seemed a different world to Mimi from any she had yet been in.  It held no resemblance to the harbor town she had been born in, to the docks of Port Royal which had appeared sadly familiar to her.  Neither was it comparable to the old grandeur of the Black estate in Kent.  This place was made ostentatious with all the bad taste of new money, while at the same time habitable by the bustling activity of proprietorship.

No thick damask curtains surrounded the beds of the ladies, but thin mosquito netting as a shield against the prevalent insects.  French doors led to balconies and terraces from almost every room.  They were left open at night, to allow cooling breezes through the house, which would otherwise become stifling during the hot Jamaican days.  Wind whistled through the fields of sugarcane visible from the windows; they seemed never ending, except for the road which cut directly through the middle of the plantation.

The slave huts were kept far out of sight of ladies' windows.  It would not be thought proper for them to see the labor that made all this wealth possible.  Mimi had seen them though, as she made her way to servants' quarters towards the back of the house, once Belle and Chloe were finally settled in their own rooms.  It had made her blood boil to observe the shabby, inhumane conditions, and she knew that if Belle stayed here any length of time, she would put a stop to such treatment.

That thought gave Mimi the only hint of satisfaction she'd had since arriving here.  Philip's servants were haughty; Jan Spears was more insufferably superior than ever.  Philip himself was obsequious and loathsome.  Belle was still grieving the loss of her father, added to the new misery of losing Shawn's presence, and had no heart for her new surroundings.  Chloe was ill and irritable.

And Mimi could not sleep.

She never could accustom herself to a new place overnight, and the unhappiness of herself and those around her only made it more unlikely she would rest well this evening.  Exploring the premises would be a much better use of her time, she decided.

Pulling on a dressing gown and lighting her candle, Mimi trudged back up the stairs from her small maid's quarters.  She would avoid the occupied bedrooms, of course, but there was a whole wing of the house she knew to be empty.  Philip had not even preformed the civility of giving his guests a tour of the house.  They had all arrived from Port Royal in time for a late supper and were then ushered directly to bed.

Mimi made her way through a drawing room, a billiard parlor, a library, a small hallway used as an art gallery, and several empty yet well-aired bedrooms.  She spent several minutes in a conservatory lovelier than the rest of the house put together.  It was filled with several of the exotic plants she had fallen in love with on the islands Jason had taken her to, and it had a gorgeous view of a small lake behind the house.

Mimi was still lingering in the peace of that place when she heard footsteps approaching.  Unwilling to be caught, when she knew she had no excuse for her midnight stroll, she blew out her candle and hurried through a small door she saw on her left.  She could not latch the door for fear of noise, but only a flicker of moonlight passed through the crack.  There were no windows in this room, and as she felt her way around it, she realized it was a storage closet.

Fear rose and nearly choked her.  Mimi didn't like close, confined spaces, especially closets.  It was related, she was sure, to her time spent locked inside one while her mother's "guests" were visiting.  She was willing to brave exposure rather than be stuck in here and had half-opened the door to make a dash for it, when a flash of dark curls stopped her.

What was Jan doing here at this time of night?

Jan Spears had obviously not spotted Mimi's hiding place, however.  She was across the room and looked out over the lake with an expression on her face that Mimi had never seen before—not on that woman at any rate.  Jan looked…peaceful, content, happy.

Well, of course she's happy, you dolt, Mimi reminded herself silently.  This is her home.

It suddenly struck Mimi how little she knew of the other maid.  She didn't even know where the girl came from, or how long she had been in Philip's employ.  All she really knew was that she didn't trust her anymore now than she had the day she met her.

More footsteps sounded down the corridor.  Jan turned at the noise, but she did not seem frightened as Mimi had been; her whole face had lit up with a kind of anticipatory joy.  A shadow darkened the room.  Mimi wished she could see who it was.

"Juana." 

The word was a breath, a prayer, spoken with a depth of feeling that was a far cry from the show of affection he made for his fiancé.  Mimi watched in silent amazement as Philip Kiriakis descended the two steps into the isolated room and wrapped his arms around Jan's waist, pulling her so tightly Mimi wondered how she could even breathe.  But breathing did not seem to be Jan's primary concern at the moment.  Her own hands were burying themselves deep into Philip's blonde hair, and then their lips met in a kiss so intense and intimate Mimi felt compelled to look away.

For a long time, there was no sound but that of the lovers' reunion.  Mimi's fear rose again, along with a wave of nausea.  She knew too well what their embraces could lead to; the sounds of it still echoed in her nightmares. 

But finally, she heard Philip's voice again, breathless and hoarse though it was.  "I was so worried about you.  I nearly went out of my head."

"Why, Philip?"  Jan's voice had a light, teasing note to it as she inclined her head towards him.  Mimi thought she seemed almost pleasant when she spoke like this; it was amazing the change love could make in a woman.  "Did you think I wouldn't be able to handle a few pirates?"

"It's not funny, Juana.  If you had seen me the day the Dolphin came into port.  Shawn was there, and I thought he would realize it couldn't be Chloe I was so worried about, but luckily, he's dense enough to believe anything."

"Ah yes, sweet, innocent Chloe…"  Jan's voice had deepened once again into that hateful tone Mimi recognized, and Mimi was restored to all the pleasure of her original dislike.  "I imagine you'll want to hear all about her actions on the voyage hither."

"Damn Chloe!" Philip exclaimed.  "I want to talk about you."

Jan clucked her tongue reproachfully.  "For shame, querido, to speak of your intended that way."

"Juana, we've talked about this before.  I have to—"

"Yes, yes, so you say," the woman snapped.

"So I'm ordered," he corrected.  "And you, of all people, know about following orders.  I can't believe that you were able to complete your assignment."

"Shh!" Jan hissed, looking anxiously around her.  Mimi shrunk back into the shadows of the closet.  "Even here, it is not safe to speak of that."

"Then why did you ask me to meet you here?  We'd have all the privacy we need in my bedchamber."  Philip leaned down to press his lips to the long, graceful throat.

"I can't be seen leaving your room; you know that as well as I.  Besides, I've always liked this place.  Your horrible decorating skills haven't reached here, though I suppose your wife will remedy all that after the wedding."

Philip groaned.  "Are you still upset about that?"

"Upset that my lover is going to marry another woman?" Jan mocked.  "Now why should that upset me?"

"Juana…" he pleaded.

Inside the closet, Mimi frowned.  Why did he keep calling her that?  Was it a sweetheart's endearment?  She had never heard one like it.

"Of course, it might interest you to know that your lady is not nearly as pure as she was when you left her."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Jealous, Philip?"  There was definite venom in the maiden's tone now.  "Would it bother you to learn that your bride to be is not exactly eligible to wear the virgin white?"

"Chloe Wesley has given herself to someone?"  Far from being jealous, Philip sounded only slightly curious and disbelieving.  "I won't believe it.  She has too much pride in her to give herself to any man.  Or was she raped aboard that pirate ship?"  Mimi shuddered at the amusement with which he asked his last question.

Jan chuckled.  "You underestimate her, Philip.  Or overestimate her, perhaps.  She had not been on the ship more than a week before she was simpering up at that pirate captain."

"Is that so?" Philip mused.  "So Lady Wesley is a pirate's wench, eh?  That might come in handy one of these days."

Mimi frowned.  This conversation had moved from disquieting to impenetrable.

"Not just any pirate, querido, one with a most unique history.  It turns out the infamous Captain Blackheart is no less than the long lost son of Lord Black."

Mimi's jaw dropped.  Had Jan been listening in to her conversation with Chloe after all?

"What?  That's impossible!  How do you know that?"

"I overheard the Captain himself tell one of the other pirates.  I found out much interesting information aboard that ship.  My time was not wasted at all."  Jan laughed again, this time low and insinuating.

Philip caught something in that laugh that would have entirely escaped Mimi, who was less attune to the woman's ways.  "Did you befriend any particular pirates?" he demanded, spitting out the last word.  If he hadn't seemed jealous at the mention of his fiancé giving her virtue to another man, he was absolutely enraged at the thought of his mistress cavorting with anyone but him.

"If I did, it was all in the name of duty, isn't that right, querido?"  That strange word had another sound this time than it had previously.  It was like poison.  "Like your marriage?"

Jan turned a vicious look on her partner, before whirling out of his arms and heading towards the door.  He caught her wrist before she had taken more than two steps, and she cried out at the pain.  But her cries were silenced as Philip's lips descended on hers with painful possessiveness.  Mimi wanted to avert her eyes again, but something about the scene held her entranced; she had never seen a passion as dark as this—not even Chloe's and the captain's.

It wasn't long before Jan was making an altogether different kind of cry.

Mimi sunk onto the floor of the closet and placed her hands against her ears, rocking back and forth, waiting like she used to for the noises to end.

~~*~~

Something had been pulling at Jason for weeks.  He had tried to put it out of his head, as they all worked night and day to keep the Vengeance afloat in the midst of the first hurricane of the season.  He had nearly forgotten it once they braved the storm and went back to the business of piracy.  They had been at sea for months without attacking a single galleon, and they had debts to settle.

Jason rather believed that Lord Black's death had driven Brady half out of his wits.  But with that insanity came a revived passion for the spilling of blood.  Jason wasn't even sure whether his captain's vengeance was directed at Spain any more.  It might have been at the whole world.  It might have been merely himself he hated.  Whatever the cause, the consequence was swift and deadly.

Three galleons had been taken, and the Vengeance now rode low in the water, its hull full of Peruvian silver and Spanish jewels.  Jason wondered if he was the only one who thought about the hundred men sunk beneath the unfathomable seas of the Caribbean, never to rise again. 

Brady certainly didn't seem to care; the guilt that used to pull him into a depression for days after an attack was nowhere to be found now.  He didn't even appear to grieve his father.  He walked the decks of his ship, stoic, indifferent, and grim.  Murderous, Jason decided with a shudder.  He had a feeling Brady's new personality would not vanish until he had sunk his blade deep in the heart of his father's killer.

In the meantime, anyone breathing would do for practice.

So Jason had been given much to think of, and it was no wonder his unformed, unsettled notions had been pushed to the back of his brain for so long.  It was only now, as the Vengeance made its way back to the infamous island of Tortuga to empty its hold and anchor for the duration of the hurricane season, that he was able to place the source of his discontent.

It had all began with a comment made by Hawk the night they took back the Vengeance.  To Hawk, he now went.

"When did Kevin give you his weapons?" Jason demanded as soon as he had taken the sailor to his private cabin.

Hawk seemed rather afraid of Jason's questions and his abrupt manner.  "I didn't lie to ye, Masters.  No one saw Kevin all the day, if that's what you're askin'."

"It's not," Jason returned shortly.  He wasn't about to explain himself to a common sailor; it was much faster merely to demand answers from one obligated to give them.  "I want to know when Kevin Lambert gave you his weapons."

"It were the night afore we hid 'em.  I told him we was goin' to, in case the ship was taken.  Beg pardon, Jase, but it didn't seem like ye and Cap'n was doing much to avoid it."

"Yes, yes.  I've told you, you did right.  What I want to know is, did Kevin hand over all his weapons to you?"

Hawk scratched his head, and Jason decided it was best not to tell him how much he looked like a monkey.  "Aye, he did.  He handed over his two swords and his pistols all.  He was right put out about bein' made governess to a lord, as he said.  He said he'd like to see his weapons put to good use at least.  Why're ye askin', Masters?"

"Because," said Jason slowly, drawing out the words as he came to the conclusion building in him for a month, "if Kevin had no weapons with him, how could he kill Lord Black?"

Hawk considered this question for a moment, before coming to the next logical assumption.  "Lord Black had a sword, didn't he?  What happened to it?"

Jason frowned, trying to remember.  They had taken it from him when he came on board, but it had been given back the night they attacked the prison ship.  Lord Black had offered it back to Brady the next day, but Brady had told him to keep it.  So where was it now? 

"I suppose Kevin could have taken it with him when he abandoned ship," Jason mused, more to himself than to Hawk.  The faint hope of finding his old friend innocent was failing. 

"It might still be in the brig though, mightn't it?" Hawk suggested.

Jason glanced across at the pirate then, his green eyes piercingly bright.  "Didn't you clear the brig when you were searching for Kevin?"

Hawk shifted guiltily from one foot to the other.  "There wasn't much point in that now, was there?  No place for a man to hide in that room."

"You mean no one's been in the brig since Lord Black's body was removed?" Jason demanded.

"Can't imagine as one would want to go into a room where a man died, if they didn't ha' to."

"Well, we're going now.  Come with me, and bring a lantern," Jason ordered, striding out of his cabin and down towards the ship's prison.  He wasn't sure what he expected to find there.  Perhaps nothing, but then again, there might be just the piece of evidence he needed.

The smell started at the beginning of the passageway.  It was so pungent Jason had to put his sleeve against his nose.  By the time they reached the brig door, the stench was unbearable.  Hawk looked ready to run the other way, but Jason yanked him along, though he himself felt ready to collapse from the strength of the odor.  He shoved the hatch open with his foot, careful to keep his nostrils blocked as much as possible.

The brig looked as innocuous as the last time he had seen it.  He himself had ordered the viscount's body taken from there and the blood scrubbed off the floorboards.  So why this overpowering smell?  There was the vacant cell.  The cot had been stripped, and the bloody blankets thrown overboard with the corpse.  The wooden chair still stood against the opposite wall.

The corner cupboard.

Jason strode towards it.  His steps never faltered, even as his heart and stomach both rebelled at what he might find in there.

"I don't understand, Jase," Hawk managed.  His voice sounded strange with his nose plugged.  "A man can't fit in there.  It's not but three feet tall, and off the ground too."

Steeling every ounce of courage in his body, Jason threw open the cabinet doors.  The lantern crashed to the ground behind him, as Hawk let it drop.  Jason gagged and reeled back, the sound of Hawk's heaving nearly prompting a similar response in him.  "Get Captain Blackheart," he ordered when he could speak again.  "Tell him we found Kevin."