Revenge of the Fox

Chapter 37

Markson brooded for the entire day about his conversations with Annamaria and Joseph. There was just enough truth to Anna's question, about being put off by Jeannine experience, to sting. He didn't consider her damaged, per se, but he imagined that her emotional state would be rather fragile. He would dive into battle to protect her without a moment's hesitation. But when faced with the actual woman, complete with tears and fears, he didn't know what to do.

--

That evening, Jeannine sat in a secluded spot near the bow and watched the sun set over the Caribbean. It seemed ages ago that she had watched the sun go down from the porch of her family's home on Martinique. Had it only be a few weeks? So much had happened to her that she scarcely recognized the girl she had been. It was time to think about her future. The pirates who had taken their ship had probably killed her brother. If he wasn't dead, he would most likely have returned to Martinique. When she reached Port Royal she'd send a letter to the owner of the plantation that her brother had worked on explaining the situation and inquiring after him. She'd best write to her aunt in New Orleans as well. She would stay in Port Royal for a while, until she'd heard back from them, but after that she should resume her interrupted trip to New Orleans. Elizabeth had invited her to stay with the Turners in Port Royal. Jeannine intended to accept, and hoped that she wouldn't need to impose upon her new friends for more than a few weeks.

Markson strolled quietly along the rail as the sun went down, enjoying the peace of the evening. He was nearly past her when he noticed a flash of blue sprigged calico out of the corner of his eye. "I beg your pardon, Miss St. Cyr. I almost failed to notice you."

Jeannine smiled faintly. "Think nothing of it, Lieutenant. I was just enjoying the sunset."

"Do you mind if I join you?" At her surprised assent, Markson sat down on the deck, leaned back against the bulkhead and stretched his legs out. "I never grow tired of the Caribbean sunset," he mused, "It is so much more beautiful than it was back in England."

"You are originally from England, then?" Jeannine asked.

"Yes, near Dover," he said absently.

"Tell me about it," Jeannine said.

Nearly two hours later, Annamaria came up on deck for a last check on everything before turning in. Hearing voices, she moved quietly closer until she was able to identify the speakers. Richard Markson and Jeannine St. Cyr. Anna smiled smugly to herself in the darkness, and walked quietly away.

--

Markson drifted out of slumber to awareness of a stiff neck and shoulder. He blinked, his uncomprehending eyes seeing the dark ocean before him, and the sky just beginning to lighten with the approaching dawn. What on earth was he doing on deck instead of in his bunk? As memory returned, he glanced down to see Jeannine's dark head resting on his shoulder. Lord, they must have fallen asleep out here. He considered for a moment allowing her to continue sleeping, but his shoulder was screaming and the dawn watch would be stirring soon. Gently he tightened the arm that encircled her shoulders. "Jeannine,' he whispered in her ear. "Jeannine, wake up." She came awake with a start, instantly alarmed, sitting bolt upright and staring wide eyed, first at the dark ocean, then at him. "Easy," he soothed. "We fell asleep out here. It's nearly dawn. Best get back to your own bed, Jeannine." He got to his feet, ignoring his protesting muscles, and extended a hand to her.

Jeannine rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Of course. How silly of us." She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. "I suppose I have another hour or so before I'm due in the galley."

He quirked a smile and offered her his arm. "Then let me escort you."

She smiled in return and accepted his arm. A few moments later they stopped at the door of the cabin she occupied. He opened the door for her, bowed and would have walked away, but she put up a hand to stop him. "Richard, come in with me."

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

She took his hand and tugged, pulling him into the cabin and shutting the door behind him. "Richard, I want you to show me that it doesn't have to be painful and ugly and disgusting. Please?"

Richard looked at her in shock. "B..but Jeannine! I can't just....!"

Jeannine put her hand on his arm and looked up at him, her soft blue eyes beseeching. "Please don't reject me, Richard."

He stepped back and ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up in spots. "Of course I'm not rejecting you, or well, actually, I'm... well...uh..." He trailed off. Clearing his throat he tried again. "It's not a question of rejection, Jeannine, it's a matter of suitability."

She arched a brow. "What does that mean?"

"You can't have thought this through. It isn't right that a respectable young girl should have a romantic liason with a naval officer with no prospects."

"I don't imagine that I have the right to call myself respectable any longer," she said dryly.

"Don't be foolish, girl," he said indignantly. "You did a brave and noble thing. You very likely saved the lives of three fine men, as well as Mrs. Sparrow, and you were instrumental in bringing down a vicious pirate. All of us on this ship and on the Black Pearl are in your debt. What happened to you was a terrible thing, but it doesn't change that fact."

"Even if all you say is true," Jeannine said steadily, "I can't imagine that the fine ladies of either your home or mine would consider that I had any pretensions to respectability. Being kidnapped by pirates, being sold to a brothel, voluntarily going aboard another pirate vessel, not to mention being ravished. And then there's my situation now. Here I am, aboard a captured ship, working in the galley, with only the most casual chaperonage. Do you really think that any respectable matron would consider Annamaria Simone to be a proper chaperone? A privateer who is an escaped slave, a woman who lives with a man without being married? We just spent the night together on deck, Richard. That alone would damn me in the eyes of respectability." She moved closer and stroked his cheek. "I'm already condemned, Richard. All I want now is to know what it feels like to be with someone who cares for me."

He tried again, desperately. "Jeannine, I.."

"No," she said, laying a finger on his lips. "Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you say you don't love me, or that you aren't interested in a relationship. You enjoy my company and that's enough for now. Just kiss me, Richard."

--

Eight days after leaving Reynard's small island near New Providence, the Black Pearl, the Vixen and the Sandpiper sailed into Port Royal. The trip should have taken less time, but they took it slowly because both the larger ships were so short handed. They'd sighted Spanish sail near Cuba, but by staying close together, they'd presented a larger target than the Dons were willing to undertake.

As soon as the black sails were sighted, messengers headed for the Governor's house and the Fort. By the time the ships dropped anchor and the small boats were launched, the Governor was pacing restlessly back and forth along the docks. Consumed with worry about his daughter and his niece, Governor Swann looked haggard. He'd lost weight and his eyes had deep circles beneath them. Captain Gillette was also waiting.

The first boat in from the Pearl contained Commodore Norrington, Antonia, Will and Elizabeth, as well as two burly sailors who did the rowing. The boat had scarcely touched the dock when Elizabeth scrambled out and flung herself into her father's arms. Governor Swann was so overcome with joy at the safe return of his daughter that he forbore to chide her for her indecorous greeting.

Captain Gillette courteously handed Antonia out of the boat before saluting his Commodore. "Sir, welcome back. I see your quest has been successful."

Norrington crisply saluted back and climbed out onto the dock. "Yes, Captain. Quite successful. Lt. Markson is aboard the captured pirate vessel, the Vixen. I imagine he'll be disembarking shortly." Norrington gestured toward the barque, lying at anchor not far from the Pearl. He turned to the Governor. "Governor Swann, I need to speak to you regarding this business. The Captain of that sloop there," he nodded toward the Sandpiper, "is due a reward for his invaluable aid and information. I need to return to the Fort at present, but I hope I can call upon you later today or tomorrow."

Governor Swann smiled warmly and clasped Norrington's hand. "By all means. Come to dinner tonight. Invite the Captain if you will."

"Indeed, Governor. Thank you." He reached for Antonia's hand. "Your niece and I were married aboard ship a week ago. We are, however, eager to renew our vows in your presence."

As the Governor raised his eyebrows in surprise, Norrington kissed Antonia's hand. "Go with your uncle now, my dear. I'll see you at dinner tonight, and we will discuss how to proceed."

--

When their boat reached the dock, Markson courteously handed Jeannine out before climbing out himself. They'd spent considerable time together during the voyage, including several nights. Now that the trip was over, neither was quite sure what the future of their relationship might be. If it even had a future. Markson glanced around the dock. The Governor's carriage was gone. The carriage from the fort was gone as well. Well, they'd been so delayed leaving the Vixen, it was no wonder. Markson looked down at Jeannine and smiled. Neither had wanted to leave the ship – to take the step back into reality. He offered her his arm. "Allow me to escort you to the Turner residence, my dear."

--