The carriage came to a halt at the side entrance of the church. Elizabeth, accompanied by her faithful handmaid Estrella, was on her way to confession at her father's request. The footman came along side the carriage to help both ladies down. Elizabeth went straight to the confessional, if just to end this all quickly; the governor having made an appointment, the minister would be waiting for her.

The minister was a chatty fellow, really quite boisterous... making these visits ever the more painful. And in a colony not too large, save for the garrison and battlements, he was well acquainted with Port Royal's governor. The two made quite the pair when it came to schooling Elizabeth in propriety. It was not the first time her father had sent her to church for absolution, nor would it likely be the last. But if it would take a barrage of rhetoric comparable to a rifle salute to relieve one of sin, then Elizabeth was here to face the firing squad. Regardless of the fact she might prefer a quick and swift hanging.

There were three gentle ladies of considerable age, Elizabeth reckoned, seated in the third pew from the altar; a young apprentice, a clergyman to be, sweeping away the sand brought in by the wind through the cracks beneath the door; an old friar tending the candles. Our heroine knelt at an open confessional whispering through an iron screen to a darkened silhouette.

"Forgive me, Father for I have sinned..." Her eyes closed, tucking her head behind her folded hands. "It's been... two and a half days since my last confession."

"Speak up, girl!"

Elizabeth tried not to wince, hearing scatted murmurs echo through the mostly empty chapel. She picked her head up slightly, trying to angle her whisper through a hole in the screen, "Two and a half days, Father." She cleared her throat, glancing self-consciously towards the ladies buried in their prayer books, "... since my last confession."

"Two days. And already prostrate once again before the Lord, begging for forgiveness. If that's any indication of what possible deeds you might have gotten in, I'll be sending you to hail Mary for a good long time indeed..."

"But Father, you have yet even to hear what I've done!" Her tone was still just a whisper, having not lost all propriety, but did not think she could hide her distress. She'd spent two days since her last confession knee-deep in penance... though in a half day more, she had committed another offense. Or at least an offense according to her father. "You know well my father arranged this appointment for me after..." Her whisper became a breath which then became silence.

"Ah yes, your father. To love and honour and respect, yes... disappointed he is, I would suspect."

"But I found the books in his study -" Elizabeth's lips threatened to pout at her unseen counsel, while her eyebrows knit.

"Ah but what were in those books, you knew - oh yes, you /i, miss. Now you tell... Father about what was in these books you took from your father's libr'y..."

Her eyes warily scanned the other occupants of the small chapel. What if the old women heard? Or worse, the young boys. She tucked her head back away behind her hands and whispered against the screen, "I don't think..." Pause.

"Confess, girl!" Elizabeth saw the shadow of a fist coming towards the iron screen. She stiffened and ducked her head, hoping her bonnet offered some cover. There'd be no end to the novenas and chores after this, she felt. More murmurs through the church. Her confessor must have sensed her pent anxiety, for his tone softened and drew closer to the screen, "There is no more an opportune moment than in the presence of thy Lord. Come now, miss. Tell Father what was in those books." He cleared his throat and added, "Leave nothing out."

"Well, Father..." Elizabeth worried her lip wondering where to begin. "It's not as you make it sound, nor probably as heinous as my father may have put to you..."

"... oh?"

"No. No, I mean, not... really..." She picked at the lace on her gloves before straightening up self-consciously. "You see -"

"Yes, yes, go on. Go on then."

"Well, I just... you know I love it here in Port Royal, and being by the sea, and seeing the ships and sails and..." Catching her voice, she realized she may have sounded wistful. She began to fidget as there was little relief for her knees against the hard wood of the confessional. Taking a breath, she continued, "I don't mean to take an interest in those sorts of novels... I don't truly. But the characters are strong-willed, facing the elements, reaching distant places even further than the leagues between here and England..." She cleared her throat, catching herself again... when something occurred to her. "And if they weren't any good, my father would not have them, would he?"

"Well now-"

"And you have many a time called my father a righteous man, as well as a just governor, so his taste in books cannot possibly be entirely disdainful in the eyes of the Lord." That should stick him. She wasn't rationalizing... exactly. "I mean, alright, so there might be a character in love, or in search of love, or in search of other... things, like perhaps the occasional pirate..."

The silhouette leaned closer to the screen, tapping a finger against the iron. "... Pirate?"

"Yes, pirate - And I know what you're thinking, but it's not what you think!"

"It's not."

It didn't sound like an inquisition, but Elizabeth was still quick to her own defence, "It wasn't a book about pirate codes or honours or any such thing. And I'm not infatuated, truly I'm not...!" When the murmurs sounded and echoed once more, Elizabeth knew she had to lower her tones. "They're just like any other character in a book, only they... have different features and ways of speaking." There was a sound of disbelief through the screen. Another Hail Mary, surely. Elizabeth sighed, "The books Father caugh -found me reading were novels, fiction. Stories," she straightened the lace cuffs of her gloves, and tried to discreetly adjust her corset. She hadn't much chest, yet, but it still dug into her skin uncomfortably in places.

"Are you sure about that...?"

"I'm telling the truth, I'd swear on the cross, Father. I haven't even..." She paused to quickly check over her shoulder. "... I haven't even whispered the phrase 'yo ho'..."

"Ay... but pirates, lass, there be a dangerous lot that a young proper gentle lady like yerself shouldn't be dabbling in... no luv, that is a sight of the Caribbean not meant for a little bonnie such that ye be - best be waiting a good weight of years past 'fore you start in on that... Dear ol' gov' might fancy shippin' ye off to Singapore an' shame havin' a pretty lil' thing like ye endin' up a Jenny*..."

Pause. "... Father? Are you... feeling alright? You sound -"

"Of course, luv - That is, I'm a visiting Father... the Father Father is on a mission, in the quarter where young ladies, like yerself, should never be - but indeed need the hand and visitation of the Lord's folk. Men. Clergy."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak again when an echo of Estrella's voice came to her ears. "There you are, Father, we've been waiting in the chapel for you..."

There was a rustle of cloth, and Elizabeth peered through the screen as her confessor disappeared behind a clumsily shut door. She leaned awkwardly to catch a glimpse, but only saw a pranceful blur of dark robes making its way to the back of the church. Her head whipped around, but it seemed as though she was the only one who'd noticed anything out of the ordinary. Her eyes widened when her minister appeared at her side, with Estrella at his.

"Now my child, you needn't have waited kneeling so, but it is proof of your penitence." He laid his hand over her head and made the sign of the cross on her forehead with his thumb. Making his way to the door of the confessional, he stepped inside, and there was a rustle of cloth as he settled himself. "You may begin now, child."

There was a long pause, as Elizabeth was absolutely perplexed.

"I don't want to have to report to the governor... so you better just fess up now, Miss Elizabeth."

She stifled her sigh into her folded hands. Estrella patted her shoulder and left her side and retreated to a likely more comfortable corner of the chapel. Shifting her knees a half inch or two, she rolled her eyes, and shut them. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned..."

-- *Jenny = a lady of expansive sensibilities; synonymous with a prostitute