Chapter 5
So far the day had been a lovely one, or as lovely as a day can be when one is dreading inevitable marriage proposals which could happen at any moment, while being held in the confines of the whalebone, fabric and laces of a corset. Other than that the day was going quite well.
The brunch, ceremony, and tea had been all quite delightful. It was a bittersweet parting between Emma and Julieanne, being more of sisters than cousins. Now Emma was in her room, free, if only for a few minutes, of her corset.
Emma changed into her new gorgeous silky gown, with all its petticoats. She would wear it to the bonfire and then to the ball immediately following. The gown was a deep blue which complimented her golden-brown hair. Margret Andrews had not spoken with partiality when she said Emma was the prettiest girl in the colony, for she simply was. Emma never thought this, for she was very humble and never thought that of herself. She was self-confident, but in no way was she a snob.
Emma was going in a carriage all to herself, and she was grateful, for she hadn't had a moment to alone all day. She closed her bedroom door and made her way down the long corridor, down the large staircase, and almost out the door before remembering she'd left her dance card in her room. She went back to retrieve it. That's odd, I don't remember having left the window open, she thought. Molly, her maid, must have opened it just after she'd left. She quickly found her dance card and left.
As the carriage made its way down the road Emma took a look at the names on her dance card. Henry Thomas for the first two. There were a few others as well; Livingstone wasn't listed. At least that would take away some of the pressure. However, there was really only one man Emma had an interest in seeing, Mr. Charles Everett. It must be the mysteriousness of his manner which was so captivating to her, she thought.
The evening at the ball turned out rather well, much better than she'd expected. She had quite a lovely time actually. In fact, she'd spent most of her time with Henry Thomas. She found him interesting, and very polite. He would talk to her, but he would also let her talk. It was nice to at least know that she could find him to be a good friend. Perhaps she could even marry him. The other wonderful part about the time she'd spent with Henry was that he hadn't any intentions of asking her to marry him this evening. They'd simply spent time getting to know one another. He had asked her if she would like to accompany him the next afternoon for a walk. She'd said yes, and she was looking forward to it, if only for the fact that she'd have a companion to spend some time with. Now that Julieanne was married, Emma had no other unmarried friends. Henry was not trying to win the trophy wife, and though she wasn't entirely in love with him yet, there was indeed potential there.
She could hardly believe that her feelings could have changed so drastically after one evening. As Emma rode in the carriage on the way home, she thought that maybe this evening had been the beginning of one of those magical and romantic nights she'd hoped for when she was younger. She'd let Fate take its course.
All of a sudden, the carriage jolted to a sudden stop, and the horses neighed in fear. She could hear men's voices saying something. There were two shots fired, Emma had a sharp intake of breath, scared to make a noise, and then she heard the horrid sounds of dead weight tumbling to the ground. The men laughed, and Emma cringed at the sound of their cold voices.
The carriage door opened, and Emma jumped. A man entered, and she knew without a doubt that he was a pirate. He was dressed like one, had his pistol drawn, smelled entirely of liquor, and had no regard for self-propriety, as he sat entirely too close for Emma's comfort.
"Well, great tides, your father never said one word about what a fine treasure you are. It's good to be gettin' double the treasure for my revenge," he said, with a wicked smile on his face. His eyes held a manic gleam.
"What? You knew my father?" Emma asked in shock as she tried to move away from the horrid man.
"Aye, 'tis true lass, I knew your father. Since the time I was just a young lad. He taught me the ways of the sea. Then things happened, and now I hate him, and I've killed him, and he may try and haunt me, but I'll be enjoyin' his treasures," he leaned closer to Emma and tried to touch her cheek, a ravenous look in his eye. A chill ran down the back of her spine.
"You're despicable!" Emma slapped his face, and his hand immediately covered his cheek while the other, which had been tracing Emma's jaw line, grabbed hold of her hair, yanking it hard, lifting her chin up.
"You'd best learn your manners girl. You'll learn to fear the name of Captain Rupert Douglas once I'm through with you," he roughly shoved her across to the other side of the carriage. Emma scowled at him as she sat on the other seat. As Douglas gave a short laugh, Emma scrambled to the door of the carriage, willing to jump out even as it was moving. But before she'd opened the door, she heard the click of a pistol being set and froze. "Sit back down lass."
Emma reluctantly sat back opposite Douglas. She crossed her arms. "When my uncle..."
"When your uncle what? What, pray tell, will yer uncle do? There's no way to start looking for you, so how will he be able to? He does not know who's taken you, what ship you are on, or which direction we will be sailing." Douglas gave a triumphant laugh at the look of hopelessness which came over Emma's face. There was not one thing she could do to escape this, and he was right, no one else would know where to start searching for her. For all she knew, she wouldn't live more than a few days.
The noises of burning buildings were only the undercurrent to the shouts and screams of the townspeople as their colony was ransacked and destroyed, undoubtedly by Douglas' crew. The streets were filled with chaos, fear and destruction. Emma's heart broke as she thought of the devastation being brought upon her home and the people she knew and loved. She could do no more to stop the destruction than she could to free herself from the carriage and her captain as they rolled through the ravaging. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
The carriage finally came to a stop as they reached the docks. "After you lass," Douglas smiled evilly, motioning to the door with his pistol. Emma stepped out of the carriage, and he followed directly after her, holding the tip of the pistol in between her shoulder blades, forcing her towards a large ship. A thick fog had rolled in quickly, and she thought horribly of another foggy time, the only other time she had been thrust into the path of pirates. She shuddered involuntarily as the memory came to mind, but was brought back to the present by the gun being pushed into her back, forcing her to keep walking.
She soon found herself on the deck of Rupert Douglas' ship. The smell of the wood even seemed to reek of evil. "Now, if you'll just come this way, none of the rest of me crew's back from pillaging, so I'll have to lock you in the brig meself."
"No, Douglas, I don't believe you will be," said a voice from a little ways away.
So far the day had been a lovely one, or as lovely as a day can be when one is dreading inevitable marriage proposals which could happen at any moment, while being held in the confines of the whalebone, fabric and laces of a corset. Other than that the day was going quite well.
The brunch, ceremony, and tea had been all quite delightful. It was a bittersweet parting between Emma and Julieanne, being more of sisters than cousins. Now Emma was in her room, free, if only for a few minutes, of her corset.
Emma changed into her new gorgeous silky gown, with all its petticoats. She would wear it to the bonfire and then to the ball immediately following. The gown was a deep blue which complimented her golden-brown hair. Margret Andrews had not spoken with partiality when she said Emma was the prettiest girl in the colony, for she simply was. Emma never thought this, for she was very humble and never thought that of herself. She was self-confident, but in no way was she a snob.
Emma was going in a carriage all to herself, and she was grateful, for she hadn't had a moment to alone all day. She closed her bedroom door and made her way down the long corridor, down the large staircase, and almost out the door before remembering she'd left her dance card in her room. She went back to retrieve it. That's odd, I don't remember having left the window open, she thought. Molly, her maid, must have opened it just after she'd left. She quickly found her dance card and left.
As the carriage made its way down the road Emma took a look at the names on her dance card. Henry Thomas for the first two. There were a few others as well; Livingstone wasn't listed. At least that would take away some of the pressure. However, there was really only one man Emma had an interest in seeing, Mr. Charles Everett. It must be the mysteriousness of his manner which was so captivating to her, she thought.
The evening at the ball turned out rather well, much better than she'd expected. She had quite a lovely time actually. In fact, she'd spent most of her time with Henry Thomas. She found him interesting, and very polite. He would talk to her, but he would also let her talk. It was nice to at least know that she could find him to be a good friend. Perhaps she could even marry him. The other wonderful part about the time she'd spent with Henry was that he hadn't any intentions of asking her to marry him this evening. They'd simply spent time getting to know one another. He had asked her if she would like to accompany him the next afternoon for a walk. She'd said yes, and she was looking forward to it, if only for the fact that she'd have a companion to spend some time with. Now that Julieanne was married, Emma had no other unmarried friends. Henry was not trying to win the trophy wife, and though she wasn't entirely in love with him yet, there was indeed potential there.
She could hardly believe that her feelings could have changed so drastically after one evening. As Emma rode in the carriage on the way home, she thought that maybe this evening had been the beginning of one of those magical and romantic nights she'd hoped for when she was younger. She'd let Fate take its course.
All of a sudden, the carriage jolted to a sudden stop, and the horses neighed in fear. She could hear men's voices saying something. There were two shots fired, Emma had a sharp intake of breath, scared to make a noise, and then she heard the horrid sounds of dead weight tumbling to the ground. The men laughed, and Emma cringed at the sound of their cold voices.
The carriage door opened, and Emma jumped. A man entered, and she knew without a doubt that he was a pirate. He was dressed like one, had his pistol drawn, smelled entirely of liquor, and had no regard for self-propriety, as he sat entirely too close for Emma's comfort.
"Well, great tides, your father never said one word about what a fine treasure you are. It's good to be gettin' double the treasure for my revenge," he said, with a wicked smile on his face. His eyes held a manic gleam.
"What? You knew my father?" Emma asked in shock as she tried to move away from the horrid man.
"Aye, 'tis true lass, I knew your father. Since the time I was just a young lad. He taught me the ways of the sea. Then things happened, and now I hate him, and I've killed him, and he may try and haunt me, but I'll be enjoyin' his treasures," he leaned closer to Emma and tried to touch her cheek, a ravenous look in his eye. A chill ran down the back of her spine.
"You're despicable!" Emma slapped his face, and his hand immediately covered his cheek while the other, which had been tracing Emma's jaw line, grabbed hold of her hair, yanking it hard, lifting her chin up.
"You'd best learn your manners girl. You'll learn to fear the name of Captain Rupert Douglas once I'm through with you," he roughly shoved her across to the other side of the carriage. Emma scowled at him as she sat on the other seat. As Douglas gave a short laugh, Emma scrambled to the door of the carriage, willing to jump out even as it was moving. But before she'd opened the door, she heard the click of a pistol being set and froze. "Sit back down lass."
Emma reluctantly sat back opposite Douglas. She crossed her arms. "When my uncle..."
"When your uncle what? What, pray tell, will yer uncle do? There's no way to start looking for you, so how will he be able to? He does not know who's taken you, what ship you are on, or which direction we will be sailing." Douglas gave a triumphant laugh at the look of hopelessness which came over Emma's face. There was not one thing she could do to escape this, and he was right, no one else would know where to start searching for her. For all she knew, she wouldn't live more than a few days.
The noises of burning buildings were only the undercurrent to the shouts and screams of the townspeople as their colony was ransacked and destroyed, undoubtedly by Douglas' crew. The streets were filled with chaos, fear and destruction. Emma's heart broke as she thought of the devastation being brought upon her home and the people she knew and loved. She could do no more to stop the destruction than she could to free herself from the carriage and her captain as they rolled through the ravaging. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks.
The carriage finally came to a stop as they reached the docks. "After you lass," Douglas smiled evilly, motioning to the door with his pistol. Emma stepped out of the carriage, and he followed directly after her, holding the tip of the pistol in between her shoulder blades, forcing her towards a large ship. A thick fog had rolled in quickly, and she thought horribly of another foggy time, the only other time she had been thrust into the path of pirates. She shuddered involuntarily as the memory came to mind, but was brought back to the present by the gun being pushed into her back, forcing her to keep walking.
She soon found herself on the deck of Rupert Douglas' ship. The smell of the wood even seemed to reek of evil. "Now, if you'll just come this way, none of the rest of me crew's back from pillaging, so I'll have to lock you in the brig meself."
"No, Douglas, I don't believe you will be," said a voice from a little ways away.