Moonlight on the Caribbean

Chapter Twenty-One

Jason Masters made his way down the crowded, rowdy streets of Port Royal.  Nearly half a year had passed since he last donned the garb of a servant to go scrounging for information in the taverns of this city of vice.  It was Lucas Roberts' unwitting comment then that had started Brady and Jason's last adventure—the adventure which had changed Jason's life.  To Lucas Roberts, he now returned.

When the Vengeance finally took harbor in one of the coves surrounding the Jamaican seashore after a month of sailing through rough weather, Jason's first thought was to ride to Titan, find Mimi and return to the ship as quickly as humanly possible.  He wanted to sail away with her and never set foot on this land again.  He wanted to start a whole new life with her, beyond killing and violence and revenge.

Brady's thirst for it was becoming unquenchable.

But the wise, careful part of Jason's brain stopped rash action.  Before they did anything, they must first know how things stood at with Kiriakis, Norrington, Shawn, and all the rest.  So while Brady waited in secret for news, Jason took the part of Welles, waiting gentleman to the eccentric planter Victor Alamain, and went to meet his source at The Three Tunns.

He was unsurprised to find Lucas in the same tavern, at the same table, with similar people, as the last time he had met him.  While time had changed much for Jason, the local drunks were sadly predictable. 

Roberts' eyes opened in glazed surprise as they caught on Jason.  "Welles, I thought you were dead," he called out, only slightly slurring his words.  It was still too early in the day for him to be beyond understanding.

Jason bowed stiffly, in mockery of the function he was supposed to have.  "Business has kept me at the plantation for many long months."

"Sit down, sit down.  They were just leaving."  He winked at his friends, and they quickly dispersed.  They knew as well as Lucas that good fortune for their comrade meant a round of drinks for all.  "Well, I wouldn't have expected to see you today of all days."

"And why's that?" Jason asked carefully.  It didn't do to let on too much ignorance of affairs on the island.

Lucas blinked stupidly.  "The wedding!  Cor, man.  I thought all the planters were invited.  Was not your master?  'Twould be strange if he wasn't, for all Philyboy doesn't like him.  I heard tell it was to be the event of the year."

Jason's blood froze, but he kept his face coolly indifferent.  "I assume you mean Kiriakis' wedding to Lady Wesley?"

"Let's not forget Lady Black's to Commodore Brady either.  I'faith, I thought Brady's friendship with Alamain would have insured his invite.  Doesn't seem quite right to be slighting a man like that."

"My master was invited but has chosen not to attend," Jason sniffed, staying in character.  He was sure an invitation had been delivered and would be waiting for them when they returned to their plantation, so it wasn't a complete lie.  But he dreaded seeing Brady's face when he told him this news.  As if the captain didn't hate the world enough right now…

Lucas whistled low and long in his throat.  "That seems harsher than anything else.  Why, I've heard tell there ain't never been two such fine ladies in Jamaica before.  Nay, nor the Main either.  The one is reckoned a bit haughty, but just as beautiful as a queen, and too good for Philyboy by far.  But the other…why, she's an angel sent from heaven so they say.  Dispensing mercy and medicine and all sorts of high-flown goodness everywhere she goes."

Jason hid his smile.  That description completely matched his feelings towards Chloe and Belle.  He considered racing out of the tavern that moment, but a last thought stopped him.  "I imagine Commodore Norrington will be attending the ceremony."

Slowly, Lucas shook his head.  "Sometimes I wonder how you can stand never hearing anything on that farm of yours.  Norrington's gone, took half the fleet with him."  The drunkard chuckled.  "Seems Captain Sparrow's been strolling a bit too close to Jamaican waters for the Commodore's comfort.  Took a ship not a week since, and the old prick's gone after him.  I figures it'll be another week before he comes home empty-handed, as usual."

That time, Jason didn't bother to conceal his grin.  He plopped down several pieces of eight on the table.  "And I figure that story well earns you that gold."  He rose and took his leave, already mentally rehearsing ways to tell Brady his lady was marrying another—perhaps already had.

~~*~~

"I look dreadful."

"You're beautiful."

"I'm dirty."

"You're tanned; it offsets the white of your dress beautifully."

"I'm too thin."

Mimi hesitated for a moment at that one.  Her mistress certainly was not the blooming picture of health most men wanted to marry.  She wasn't a strong, hearty woman for birthing many children.  She would always be as she was now, fragile.  "You're ethereal," she soothed finally.  "And Commodore Brady loves you just the way you are."

Belle bit her lip as she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror of her boudoir.  Mimi would never know with what she found fault.  Gleaming white satin and lace cascaded round the petite beauty.  Her golden hair was braided into a crown, allowing her creamy neck to glimmer with the family pearls around it.  Mimi affixed the sheer veil to the top of her head and allowed it to disguise the lady's porcelain features.  She stepped back, admiring her handiwork.  Belle looked positively seraphic.

"Perfect," she announced.  "Isn't she, Lady Wesley?"

When there was no response, Mimi turned around.  Chloe stood in Belle's bedroom, staring out the window.  Her cream-colored gown counterbalanced her vital, buxom figure—still unmarred by her pregnancy, though it was only a matter of time before she began to show—and her dark hair was softened by the color of her veil.  She, however, was not fussing over her appearance; she had no desire to look perfect for this day.

Her eyes were fastened on the dirt road leading to the plantation house.

Mimi sighed, leaving Belle to approach her.  She peeked over Chloe's shoulder to see the approaching line of carriages.  "It's nearly time," she whispered quietly.

Chloe nodded curtly, giving sign that she had heard.  Her eyes never left the horizon.

Mimi winced.  She regretted so her advice to her friend.  Something that made Chloe so miserable couldn't possibly be right.  Gently, she put a hand on the other woman's shoulder and squeezed.  "Chloe, don't do this.  It's not too late, you know.  Tell Philip you've had a change of heart.  Send me, and I'll tell him.  But don't marry him!"

A sad ghost of a smile flickered across Chloe's unnaturally pale face, half-hidden behind the veil.  "You know as well as I that I can't do that.  I don't have any choice."

"Don't say that," Mimi hissed, still nearly inaudible in an attempt to keep their conversation from Belle on the other side of the room.  "You always have a choice, Chloe."

The lady finally moved her gaze from the window to settle their full sapphire effect on Mimi's face.  "No, Mimi.  I gave that right up the moment my choices created another life.  I can't think only of myself now, as I always have before."  With a heavy sigh, she yanked the curtains closed and returned to Belle. 

Mimi felt pride mix with her sorrow as she saw the strength with which Chloe moved, the high lift of her chin, the straight line of her back.  In the horrors of the past few months, the vain, headstrong girl had become a woman.

"You do look lovely, Belle," Chloe announced.  She slid a hand around her friend's waist and glanced at their dual reflection.  She frowned.  "Something's missing though.  Mimi, would you fetch us flowers for our bouquets?"

"Is there time?" Belle fretted.  "Shouldn't they be sending for us soon?"

"I'll hurry," Mimi reassured her.  It wouldn't be right for the brides not to have bouquets.  While the wedding might be a nightmare for Chloe, it was a dream come true for Belle—the first thing that had made her smile since her father's death—and she deserved to have it perfect to the smallest detail.  Even Chloe seemed to think so and was making an effort to appear cheerful for her friend.

Mimi rushed down the stairs and towards the conservatory.  There wasn't time to go to the gardens; hothouse flowers would have to do.  With light steps in her silent slippers, she approached the glass-walled room.  It wasn't until she was nearly there that the voices caught her attention and stopped her in her tracks.

"If you could kill Lord Black on a ship full of pirates, who were supposedly defending him, do you really think I'll find it impossible to give my wife a shove overboard in the middle of the ocean?"

Mimi froze, her blood turning to ice.  She knew that voice.  She slunk into the shadows and tried to keep absolutely still.

"It's not the opportunity I question, it's the actual doing.  You called her that word again."

"And you think that means anything?  She will be my wife, and I will kill her.  Juana, don't you know by now that I—I…"

"You what, Philip?" Jan spat out sardonically.  "You love me?  Is that what you were going to say?"

"And what if I was?"  Philip sounded defensive now, almost insecure.

Jan's laughter reached Mimi's ears, cold and harsh and mocking.  "Oh, querido, how ridiculous you are.  You don't love me anymore than I love you."

"For someone who doesn't love me, you're making a fine impression of it in your jealousy."  Philip's voice matched hers for coldness.

"I simply don't understand the reason why your marriage is so necessary to His Majesty's plans."

Philip sighed, a long-suffering sound.  "And I've told you, I can't buy my way into court.  In England, standing isn't based on wealth alone, but blood.  Lady Wesley's family line entitles her to take place at Court—and by extension, her spouse."

"I'm not a fool, Philip.  I understand all of that.  My bloodlines are purer than any foul English bitch can ever hope to attain.  What I don't appreciate is being pulled from the Caribbean to return to England, when our mission here is not yet complete.  Blackheart yet lives."

"Your personal thirst for vengeance can make no impact on His Majesty's decisions, Juana.  To you, killing the pirate who killed your brother is the pinnacle to which all else strives; to King Phillip, defeating the English as a nation holds far more interest.  Enough of this.  My orders are to marry Lady Wesley and marry her I shall.  My wish is to not be burdened with an English wife, and so she shall die.  This conversation can wait."

Mimi heard footsteps sounding along the marble floor and withdrew into the empty parlor next to the conservatory.  She heard Philip pass by and waited for Jan to make her exit as well.  The crash of porcelain against glass and a cry of frustrated anger proceeded Jan's removal, but then the maid hurried away with quick steps.

Even after the sound of Jan's slippers had ceased to reach her ears, Mimi waited.  She felt incapable of movement, as she strove to grasp everything she had heard.  Jan had killed Lord Black.  Philip was going to kill Chloe.  They were both spies for the Spanish king.  Jan wanted to kill Brady, who had killed her brother.  Months of confusion sorted themselves out in a few moments for Mimi.

Still, she hesitated.  To whom could she take this information?  Chloe, obviously, needed to know she was marrying a man who would murder her without a second thought.  But what could the lady do about it?  What could Mimi do about it?  She wished Jason were here; she had been longing for him for months, but this went beyond personal need.  He would know how to handle this, as would Captain Blackheart.  Where were they?  Why were they delayed?

Logic came to Mimi the next moment.  The pirates were not here and could not help her, but another man was who could.  Shawn was here; Shawn, the soldier, the warrior, could help her.  If only she could reach him in time…

Mimi sped out of the room, not wasting another second on thought.  She never stopped running all the way from one wing to the next, until she threw herself breathless and sweaty at Commodore Brady's door.  She pounded several times, without receiving answer, before braving to open it. 

It was empty.

The maid swore under her breath.  He must already have gone to the outdoor pavilion set up for the double ceremony.  Still, she must do something!  Mimi raced up the stairs towards Belle's room but stopped halfway there.

Music was being played.  It wafted through the open balcony window.

Mimi was too late.

Numb, she walked back down the steps and out through the heavy wooden doors to the canopy under the trees.  The best society the island had to offer were all gathered round the spot where the highest ranking official of the Church of England in Jamaica joined together Lady Isabelle Black and Commodore Shawn Douglas Brady and Lady Chloe Wesley and Philip Kiriakis.

Mimi listened to the old man's voice drone on.

"Thirdly, it was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity. Into which holy estate these four persons present come now to be joined. Therefore if any man can shew any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter for ever hold his peace."

Mimi took a step nearer to the scene to speak, but something caught her.  Her eyes inadvertently and unwillingly landed on Belle's face, shining even through the veil.  She glowed with joy.  That would all be taken away from her if Mimi spoke now.  She would lose her wedding day.  Shawn would be forced to act his duty; their happiness would be delayed yet again. 

While she was still silently deliberating, the reverend continued.  This time, he spoke only to the two couples before him, reading monotonously the words of the prayer book.  "I require and charge you all, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if any of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful."

Speak, Chloe! Mimi willed her friend silently.  If only Chloe would of her own volition walk away from her ceremony, then Belle could still marry Shawn, without any interference.  Please, say something!

Chloe's face was a mask.  No emotion flickered behind her eyes, except cool indifference.  She had the same stifled look on her face as she used to get when forced to accompany her parents to Court, that of doing a duty which gave her no pleasure.

No words left her mouth, and the clergyman turned to Shawn.  "Shawn Douglas Brady, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

Shawn's brown eyes sparked and his gorgeous smile lit his face, as he answered quickly and eagerly, "I will."

"Isabelle Marlena Black, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Belle's smile matched Shawn's, but her blue eyes shone with tears, and her voice shook, as she solemnly pronounced the words, "I will."

Mimi found her voice choked by such apparent love.  All around were touched, transformed by its purity.  She could not speak now, though she wanted to desperately.  Her voice had been lost, and she could not grasp it, even as she heard Philip's cold voice pronounce words of love and honor towards a woman he did neither, and Chloe echo them back in a tone scarcely living.

The ceremony went on, through the giving of the brides, of the rings, through sermons and prayers, and still nothing hindered it, and still no one stopped it.  The married couples were presented to the assembled, and no one had anything but words of praise and joy.

And only Mimi noticed that the new Mrs. Kiriakis still gazed out at the dusty road, tears finally springing into her eyes, as her wedding ended, and the man she loved had not come to stop it.  She was now past the point of salvation.

~~*~~

Shawn couldn't take his eyes off her.  She shone out angel light amongst the rabble of adoring humans.  And this goddess, this immortal being, was his wife.  He felt he had no more right than these to stare and worship from a distance.  The knowledge that he could take a saint in his arms, kiss her, hold her, seemed almost unholy.

Yet his hands ached to caress, to explore her.  He wondered if that was sacrilegious. 

He didn't care.

She was his idol, Diana the Virgin, Aphrodite, Goddess of Love.  She was the beginning and end of his life.  She was everything.

He saw her standing across the room, talking amongst the local landed women.  She laughed at something one of them said; the clear, tinkling sound reached his ears and made his heart sing. 

"Belle," he breathed, but for a moment, he thought he shouted it, when she looked his way and flashed him a dazzling smile.  Her eyes stayed locked with his, even as she said something to the women around her.

Shawn saw the crowd part, and she began to weave her way towards him.  He stood frozen, watching her move.  He wondered if she truly floated, or if that was only his imagination.  The ball swirled around them, but he saw only her.  She was his center and all.

"Commodore Brady..."  The voice was unwelcome.

He didn't even turn his eyes from his angel, as he murmured.  "Not now, Mimi.  Tomorrow."

"Please, Commodore, I need to speak to you."

"It can wait until tomorrow, Mimi.  There's only Belle tonight."  And that said, he left the maidservant without a glance to cross the few short steps between him and his queen.

"You've been watching me," Belle mumbled up at him, her cheeks flushing with becoming emotion.  "I felt you."

All the blood in Shawn's brain started flowing downward.  She was his goddess, and he wanted to make her mortal.  Make her his.  He grabbed her hand and caressed it, his thumb twirling slowly round the pulse in her wrist.  "Come away with me."

Her eyes closed slowly, hooded with desire he didn't think someone like his Belle could feel.  "What about the ball?  We're the guests of honor."

"Hang the ball.  It was Philip's idea.  He can stay.  I want to be with you…alone."

Again, that strange inward turning of her eyes, before she nodded slowly.  Shawn needed no more permission.  Gentle no longer, he yanked on her hand and pulled her out of the ballroom and towards the stairs.

~~*~~

The day had passed rather dazedly for Chloe, for which she was grateful.  She didn't think she could have made it through otherwise.  The priest's words had barely penetrated her skull.  It was only through echoing what she had seen the others do that she had avoided making a spectacle of herself.  The golden ring around her finger, in addition to the diamond, was her only link with the reality that she was a married woman.

Even Philip's hand on her waist as he guided her through the crowd, introducing her to all the gentry, could make no impression on her.  Something inside of her had broken today; some vital part had died, and she had not the will to even try to revive it.  She was married.  Brady had not come.

Chloe gazed without seeing at the dancing couples on the floor.  She had danced a few times with Philip, when he asked her, but she was pleased not to have to make the effort.  He was talking to one of the neighboring planters, and she was free to distance herself from reality as she chose.

She chose a moonlit night, a ship deck, and a figure dressed in black.

A tall figure stepped into the light, but she barely noticed.  Philip did, however.  He turned from his conversation partner, and his lip curled at the new figure.  "Alamain, I thought you weren't coming.  Your servant said you were visiting Barbados and would not be home in time for the wedding.  You can imagine how glad I am to find he was mistaken."  The sarcasm was not lost on Chloe.

"Actually, I did miss the wedding, an event which I am sure to always regret.  But, having just arrived home to this welcome news, I thought I might attend the ball and offer you both my sincerest congratulations."

Chloe's heart stopped pounding for a moment.  She felt all the blood leave her face, as her gaze settled on the man she thought she would never see again.  He had turned towards her now, and though he was dressed in the finery of a colonial gentleman—even down to the periwig hiding his blonde locks—his blue eyes were identical to the ones she had memorized.  Right now, they were fixed on her with an icy expression she knew only too well she deserved.

"And this must be your lovely bride," Brady continued to drawl in that ridiculous slow voice. 

Tight-lipped, Philip made the introduction.  "Chloe, this is Victor Alamain; he owns the plantation bordering mine.  Alamain, this is my wife, Mrs. Chloe Kiriakis."

Chloe winced, hearing that name as if for the first time, when she heard it with Brady before her.

"Mrs. Kiriakis."  He bowed, took her hand and bent low over it; his lips were strangely cold against her flesh. 

Chloe shivered.  She could not force herself to make the obligatory curtsy in return.

"If it would not be presuming too much, Philip, might I steal your wife away for a dance?"

Chloe waited, torn between anticipation and horror, for Philip's response.  It was slow in coming, but finally, he waved his hand in permission.  "Go right ahead."

The words were barely spoken, before strong arms were clasped around Chloe's waist, and she was among the whirling mass.  She froze in Brady's arm, unsure what to do or even to breathe.  Could he possibly know his hand rested on the little bit of each of them growing inside her? 

"Forever doesn't last very long for you, does it, Mrs. Kiriakis?"

The words were hurled at her with surprising venom, and she found she could not meet his eyes as he spoke.  They rested on the elegant blue cravat before her, so different from his pirate garb.  She struggled for the words to answer him, but they froze on her tongue.  Nothing she could say would excuse what she had done…nothing except a confession of why, and for some reason, she could not tell him.  There was no way to know how he would react to the news, whether he would be overjoyed or spurn her even further.  Besides, what good would it do?  She was already married.  He had come too late.

Brady laughed, and it had the old caustic ring to it.  "That's the first time I've ever known you not to have a ready answer, Chloe.  What's the matter?  Philip demanding silence from you already?  Or have you forgotten that you gave yourself to me and swore you were mine?  Women have such fickle memories."

Anger and resentment burned deeper into Chloe at his heated words.  She knew he felt betrayed, but she had been betrayed as well.  She had been left, abandoned, when she needed him most, and not all the reasoning that he had returned as soon as he could was capable of removing that sense of rejection.  So she repaid him the only way she could; she kept silent.  She would not tell him about his child inside of her.  He didn't deserve to know.

"Of course, I don't know what I was thinking.  Why would you settle for a mere pirate when you could have a sugarcane king?  I wonder how your husband will react when he discovers that his blushing bride is not as pure as he believed.  How quickly do you think he'll send for the guards to have you publicly flogged for adultery?"

His hands tightened around her waist, and Chloe winced.  She would say nothing.  She would not respond.  She kept her eyes firmly averted from his.

As if sensing her thoughts, Brady's hand disengaged from hers and forced her chin up.  "Look at me, Chloe.  Why the hell didn't you wait for me?  I promised I would come.  Why didn't you wait?"

There was such mingled sorrow and anger in his eyes it melted her resolve in a moment.  "I…I…"

It was at that moment the shot rang out.

~~*~~

Jason watched Brady approach Chloe and Philip and grimaced.  That scene was not likely to be pretty.  For a moment, he debated following his friend over, but he knew he couldn't.  In his disguise as manservant, Jason was expected to retreat with the rest of the servants to the back parlor.  That was fine by him; he had another servant to find. 

It wasn't hard to spot her.  She stood away from the rest, anxiously fretting, worrying her kerchief in her hands and not looking at anyone.  Jason smiled.  No doubt she was anxious for Chloe.  He was apprehensive about their friends as well, but one sight of her was swiftly taking thoughts of others from his head.  It had been two long months since he had last held her in his arms.

He stood there for a moment, soaking in the view of her.  She must have felt his stare, for she looked up.  Her eyes widened, her hand flew to her mouth, and in one moment, she was at his side.  He was momentarily shocked, as she pulled him out of the room, but it didn't last long.  No sooner had she pulled him into a deserted alcove, than she began.

"Jason!  I can't believe you're here!  I'm so glad you are.  You have to listen to me.  No one will listen, but Jason…Jan killed Lord Black."

Jason was surprised at her knowledge, though not of the event.  He had already surmised as much himself.  "Yes, I know, Mimi.  But how did you find out?"

"I heard her talking to Philip this morning.  But that's not all.  They're lovers, and they're spies from Spain.  And Philip's going to kill Chloe, Jason!  He said it; he's going to marry her and kill her and take her place at Court."

"Philip is part of this too?" Jason questioned, with burgeoning awareness.  All the pieces were falling into place for him now.  Philip's rage at the buccaneers, his desire to have them banned from Port Royal.  Jan's inappropriate haughtiness for a maid servant, the reason she would kill Lord Black in the first place.

He grabbed Mimi's hand.  "Come on.  We're going to tell Brady."

"Brady's here too?  Oh, Jason!  Chloe married Philip today.  He's going to be—"

"He already knows, but that's not important right now.  What's important is to let him know, so we can figure out a plan.  Now, come with me, Nanichi."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that," a cool voice stopped them, as they turned in the direction of the ballroom.  Mimi's hand clutched Jason's tighter as they confronted the unsmiling visage of Jan Spears.  In her hand was a loaded pistol.

Jason showed no reaction.  Gently, he disengaged his hand from Mimi's, bringing it closer to his side.

"Ah, ah, ah," Jan warned, raising her eyebrow.  "No stupid heroics now, Masters.  Keep your hands up and move along the wall.  You too, Mimi."

Mimi looked towards him for instruction, and Jason nodded.  He raised his hands in the air and put them up against the wall.  Beside him, Mimi did the same.  "So what happens now?" he questioned coolly.

"Well, what happens now is that I get to do something I've been dreaming about for a long time," was Jan's even more controlled response.  "I get to kill you both."

Jason heard the hammer being pulled on the weapon and moved on instinct.  He dove to the ground and swung out with his leg, bringing the woman toppling with him.  The gun left her hand.  Jason dove for it, but she yanked on his hair, pulling him back.  He struggled to free himself from her clawing hands.

"Jason, watch out!  She has a knife!" 

Mimi's warning brought Jason's hand up just in time to avert a slash on his throat.  He twisted Jan's hand and tried to force her into letting go of the weapon. 

"Mimi, get the pistol," he panted, while still engaged in the bodily struggle.  While Jan was smaller, she was obviously well-trained and accustomed to hand to hand combat. 

"No!"  With a ferocious kick to his middle, Jan freed herself.

As one, Jan, Mimi, and Jason dove for the weapon.  As one, they heard the roar of gunfire in their ears.