Revenge of the Fox
Chapter 31
Jeannine clung to MacKenzie's arm and hung on his every word. She flirted, she fluttered, she smiled coquettishly. She did her level best to appear a vacant headed young girl with a roving eye. MacKenzie appeared to be falling for it. His explanations of the ship's fixtures were indulgent and his eyes lingered more and more on the skin revealed above the discreet bodice of the gown she'd purloined from Gwen's closet aboard the Black Pearl. The tour was turning out to be more exhaustive than MacKenzie had planned on. He had been considering giving her an extensive look at the inside of the first mate's cabin, but for some reason they kept getting sidetracked. He would have been astonished to realize that Jeannine was doing that on purpose.
"Is that the galley?" Jeannine inquired.
"Why yes, Mrs. Martin," MacKenzie answered.
She entered the room and looked around. "It's so small!" She smiled fetchingly at the cook. "How on earth do you manage to feed all these men in such a small space?"
"Well, ma'am, uh.." the cook stumbled over his words and shot a questioning look at MacKenzie. Jeannine turned her back on them and studied the room. A large pot sat over a fire on a stove. A quick glance inside proved that the pot was filled with porridge – no doubt for the men's breakfast. This was what she was here for. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she saw that MacKenzie and the cook were talking to each other, and for the moment, not looking her way. Quickly she slipped her hand into the opening in the side seam of her skirt, and reached the pocket in her shift. Drawing out a pouch, she swiftly upended it into the pot and stuffed the pouch back out of sight in the hidden pocket. Idly picking up a spoon, she stirred the mixture until the power disappeared. Turning again, she saw the men looking at her once again, so she casually laid down the spoon and began chattering once again about how amazing it was that so many men were fed from such a small place and asking inane questions about what sort of food they ate everyday. As they turned away, the hairpin that had been in the hidden pocket along with the pouch fell to the ground with an unnoticed 'ting'.
As MacKenzie escorted her out, she suppressed a yawn. "Oh, it must nearly be dawn! It's been such a long day. Do you know where my husband went to?"
"I believe you're to be sleeping in a cabin next to the officer's cabins. Perhaps," he said running a hand down her back, "you'd permit me to show you my cabin?"
"Oh, sir!" Jeannine said with mock surprise, stepping away as the hand dipped below her waist. "I can't think that it would be quite the thing. But if you'd escort me to where I will be sleeping, I would be most grateful."
"But of course, Mrs. Martin," said MacKenzie, leading her down the passageway. He opened a door and ushered her inside, shutting and locking it behind him.
Nervously, Jeannine noted the man's clothing scattered around and the unmade bunk. "Is this the cabin my husband and I will be sleeping in?"
"It's my cabin, sweetheart," answered MacKenzie, pulling her toward him.
"I don't think it's proper for me to be here," said Jeannine desperately, pushing at his chest. "I want to be taken to my husband."
"In due time, in due time," MacKenzie said absently, as his hands pulled at her skirt.
"What are you doing!" Jeannine nearly shrieked.
"Only what you've been asking for, sweet."
--
When the men in the brig area heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, they looked up quickly. They'd been taking turns scouting out the deck area, but so far there had been too many people about to make escape a viable possibility.
"I must protest this entire business." Markson stated loudly as they neared the brig area. "I demand to see my wife!"
Will, Jack and Norrington quickly exchanged glances. Was that Markson's voice? What would he be doing here?
"Mr. Martin," drawled Reynard patiently as they came into view. "As I said before, you are in no position to demand anything." He looked around at the three other prisoners. "I've brought you some more company, gentlemen." He opened the fourth cell door and pushed Markson inside. "We'll speak again later, Martin." Turning, he headed back up the stairs.
When Reynard's footsteps had died away, Commodore Norrington turned to Markson. "In the name of all that's holy," he said through gritted teeth, "what are you doing here?"
"Rescue attempt, sir," he replied.
"It doesn't appear to be going very well," commented Will.
"Actually, so far it's going exactly to plan," said Markson.
"What did you mean, 'wife'?" Jack asked.
Markson sat down on the small cot. "Jeannine is with me. She's pretending to be my wife. We told Reynard we'd been shipwrecked here."
Norrington's face was incredulous. "You brought a woman aboard this ship? Are you mad!"
"No, sir. Actually she brought me. I didn't have much choice. She was going to come whether or not I wanted her to. I came along to run as much interference for her as I could and protect her as much as possible. God, I hope she's all right."
"Whose idea was that?" Norrington snarled.
"Hers. Then she, Elizabeth, Antonia and Annamaria hammered out the details. I wasn't given any say in the matter at all."
"I left you on that ship to protect the women, not to put one of them into danger!"
"Commodore, with all due respect, Captain Sparrow left Miss Simone in charge of the Pearl. If she was willing for Jeannine to attempt this, I couldn't stop her. The only thing I could think of to do was to come along and help as much as I could."
Jack spoke up, "So what is Jeannine actually doing?"
"She took a large pouch of powder from Gwen's medical supplies. Anna told me it was something Gwen used to mix up sleeping draughts. She intends to put it into the men's food. She flirted the first mate into giving her a tour of the ship. I kept Reynard talking for as long as I could so he couldn't interfere."
Will frowned. "Do you really think she'll be able to do that?"
Markson shrugged. "Very possibly. She turned herself into a wide-eyed, brainless twit before my very eyes. I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself. I don't think MacKenzie knew what hit him." He turned to Jack. "Gwen was in the captain's cabin. It looked like she was tied to the bed."
Jack's only visible reaction to this was the slight muscle twitch in his jaw. "Does she look all right?"
Markson shrugged again. "Hard to be sure. She didn't say anything. She's got a fairly sizable smear of blood on her neck though."
Will spoke up, "It's how he caught us, threatening to cut her until we surrendered. Obviously he'd have done it too."
Markson nodded. "I thought that probably was the case."
"So, if Jeannine succeeded," Jack said, "then the men will start nodding off soon after breaking their fast in the morning, eh?"
"That's correct, sir. Shouldn't be too long, it's nearly dawn now."
"That will be the opportune moment then."
--
Reynard reentered his cabin and looked at Gwen. He raised his eyebrows. "Haven't been able to make any headway with those knots, have you?"
"No, I can't say I have," she said calmly.
A tap sounded at the door, and the cabin boy entered with a tray. "Set it on the table, boy," Reynard said. He glanced at the morning offering of porridge and grimaced. "Well I can't say I've an appetite for that." He looked over at Gwen and smiled wickedly. "I've a different sort of appetite this morning." When the cabin boy exited, Reynard locked the door behind him. "I think we've some time before I'm needed again."
Gwen jerked nervously on the rope that tethered her to the bunk. "Untie me, Reynard."
He shook his head. "No, luv. I think I'll leave you like that. Should make things easier." When she tried to evade him he closed his hand on the knot of hair pinned to the back of her head and hauled her back, tearing the bun from his moorings and scattering pins everywhere. "Don't fight me, Gwen," he hissed. "If you do, I'll just hurt you." Yanking his knife from its sheath at his belt, he inserted the tip into her bodice and ripped it down, slicing open the fabric to her waist. Tossing the knife to the floor, he took both hands and tore the dress apart.
--
Chapter 31
Jeannine clung to MacKenzie's arm and hung on his every word. She flirted, she fluttered, she smiled coquettishly. She did her level best to appear a vacant headed young girl with a roving eye. MacKenzie appeared to be falling for it. His explanations of the ship's fixtures were indulgent and his eyes lingered more and more on the skin revealed above the discreet bodice of the gown she'd purloined from Gwen's closet aboard the Black Pearl. The tour was turning out to be more exhaustive than MacKenzie had planned on. He had been considering giving her an extensive look at the inside of the first mate's cabin, but for some reason they kept getting sidetracked. He would have been astonished to realize that Jeannine was doing that on purpose.
"Is that the galley?" Jeannine inquired.
"Why yes, Mrs. Martin," MacKenzie answered.
She entered the room and looked around. "It's so small!" She smiled fetchingly at the cook. "How on earth do you manage to feed all these men in such a small space?"
"Well, ma'am, uh.." the cook stumbled over his words and shot a questioning look at MacKenzie. Jeannine turned her back on them and studied the room. A large pot sat over a fire on a stove. A quick glance inside proved that the pot was filled with porridge – no doubt for the men's breakfast. This was what she was here for. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she saw that MacKenzie and the cook were talking to each other, and for the moment, not looking her way. Quickly she slipped her hand into the opening in the side seam of her skirt, and reached the pocket in her shift. Drawing out a pouch, she swiftly upended it into the pot and stuffed the pouch back out of sight in the hidden pocket. Idly picking up a spoon, she stirred the mixture until the power disappeared. Turning again, she saw the men looking at her once again, so she casually laid down the spoon and began chattering once again about how amazing it was that so many men were fed from such a small place and asking inane questions about what sort of food they ate everyday. As they turned away, the hairpin that had been in the hidden pocket along with the pouch fell to the ground with an unnoticed 'ting'.
As MacKenzie escorted her out, she suppressed a yawn. "Oh, it must nearly be dawn! It's been such a long day. Do you know where my husband went to?"
"I believe you're to be sleeping in a cabin next to the officer's cabins. Perhaps," he said running a hand down her back, "you'd permit me to show you my cabin?"
"Oh, sir!" Jeannine said with mock surprise, stepping away as the hand dipped below her waist. "I can't think that it would be quite the thing. But if you'd escort me to where I will be sleeping, I would be most grateful."
"But of course, Mrs. Martin," said MacKenzie, leading her down the passageway. He opened a door and ushered her inside, shutting and locking it behind him.
Nervously, Jeannine noted the man's clothing scattered around and the unmade bunk. "Is this the cabin my husband and I will be sleeping in?"
"It's my cabin, sweetheart," answered MacKenzie, pulling her toward him.
"I don't think it's proper for me to be here," said Jeannine desperately, pushing at his chest. "I want to be taken to my husband."
"In due time, in due time," MacKenzie said absently, as his hands pulled at her skirt.
"What are you doing!" Jeannine nearly shrieked.
"Only what you've been asking for, sweet."
--
When the men in the brig area heard heavy footsteps on the stairs, they looked up quickly. They'd been taking turns scouting out the deck area, but so far there had been too many people about to make escape a viable possibility.
"I must protest this entire business." Markson stated loudly as they neared the brig area. "I demand to see my wife!"
Will, Jack and Norrington quickly exchanged glances. Was that Markson's voice? What would he be doing here?
"Mr. Martin," drawled Reynard patiently as they came into view. "As I said before, you are in no position to demand anything." He looked around at the three other prisoners. "I've brought you some more company, gentlemen." He opened the fourth cell door and pushed Markson inside. "We'll speak again later, Martin." Turning, he headed back up the stairs.
When Reynard's footsteps had died away, Commodore Norrington turned to Markson. "In the name of all that's holy," he said through gritted teeth, "what are you doing here?"
"Rescue attempt, sir," he replied.
"It doesn't appear to be going very well," commented Will.
"Actually, so far it's going exactly to plan," said Markson.
"What did you mean, 'wife'?" Jack asked.
Markson sat down on the small cot. "Jeannine is with me. She's pretending to be my wife. We told Reynard we'd been shipwrecked here."
Norrington's face was incredulous. "You brought a woman aboard this ship? Are you mad!"
"No, sir. Actually she brought me. I didn't have much choice. She was going to come whether or not I wanted her to. I came along to run as much interference for her as I could and protect her as much as possible. God, I hope she's all right."
"Whose idea was that?" Norrington snarled.
"Hers. Then she, Elizabeth, Antonia and Annamaria hammered out the details. I wasn't given any say in the matter at all."
"I left you on that ship to protect the women, not to put one of them into danger!"
"Commodore, with all due respect, Captain Sparrow left Miss Simone in charge of the Pearl. If she was willing for Jeannine to attempt this, I couldn't stop her. The only thing I could think of to do was to come along and help as much as I could."
Jack spoke up, "So what is Jeannine actually doing?"
"She took a large pouch of powder from Gwen's medical supplies. Anna told me it was something Gwen used to mix up sleeping draughts. She intends to put it into the men's food. She flirted the first mate into giving her a tour of the ship. I kept Reynard talking for as long as I could so he couldn't interfere."
Will frowned. "Do you really think she'll be able to do that?"
Markson shrugged. "Very possibly. She turned herself into a wide-eyed, brainless twit before my very eyes. I never would have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself. I don't think MacKenzie knew what hit him." He turned to Jack. "Gwen was in the captain's cabin. It looked like she was tied to the bed."
Jack's only visible reaction to this was the slight muscle twitch in his jaw. "Does she look all right?"
Markson shrugged again. "Hard to be sure. She didn't say anything. She's got a fairly sizable smear of blood on her neck though."
Will spoke up, "It's how he caught us, threatening to cut her until we surrendered. Obviously he'd have done it too."
Markson nodded. "I thought that probably was the case."
"So, if Jeannine succeeded," Jack said, "then the men will start nodding off soon after breaking their fast in the morning, eh?"
"That's correct, sir. Shouldn't be too long, it's nearly dawn now."
"That will be the opportune moment then."
--
Reynard reentered his cabin and looked at Gwen. He raised his eyebrows. "Haven't been able to make any headway with those knots, have you?"
"No, I can't say I have," she said calmly.
A tap sounded at the door, and the cabin boy entered with a tray. "Set it on the table, boy," Reynard said. He glanced at the morning offering of porridge and grimaced. "Well I can't say I've an appetite for that." He looked over at Gwen and smiled wickedly. "I've a different sort of appetite this morning." When the cabin boy exited, Reynard locked the door behind him. "I think we've some time before I'm needed again."
Gwen jerked nervously on the rope that tethered her to the bunk. "Untie me, Reynard."
He shook his head. "No, luv. I think I'll leave you like that. Should make things easier." When she tried to evade him he closed his hand on the knot of hair pinned to the back of her head and hauled her back, tearing the bun from his moorings and scattering pins everywhere. "Don't fight me, Gwen," he hissed. "If you do, I'll just hurt you." Yanking his knife from its sheath at his belt, he inserted the tip into her bodice and ripped it down, slicing open the fabric to her waist. Tossing the knife to the floor, he took both hands and tore the dress apart.
--
