Usual disclaimers... sob!
I lied... I'll give you five chapters today as I'm feeling nice!
***
Catherine found herself confined to the small room that had been assigned to her, grateful that it had a bathroom. She was, however, reluctant to take a bath as she realised she would have to ask somebody to unlace her and lace her back up. The dresses that Jean Claude had bought her although beautiful were highly impractical for a woman on her own.
She kicked off her shoes and for a while lay on the bed, dozing as she had nothing else to do, until a sharp knock on the door woke her from her reverie.
"Madame Duras," the Sergeant assigned to her said. "Captain van Nicobar wishes to see you in his office..."
"Of course," she smiled politely, slipping her shoes back on before following him along the maze of corridors within the fort. He knocked on the door. "Madame Duras," he announced, ushering her inside.
Captain van Nicobar and another gentleman rose as she entered. Her eyes widened slightly when the man turned but she managed to conceal her surprise. "Captain, you wished to see me?" she asked in French, again having to wait for the Sergeant to translate.
"Allow me," Stephen Waike interrupted, speaking fluently in French. He had recognised her immediately as the woman that had been with his brother earlier - the woman his brother had claimed as his wife. "Captain van Nicobar has advised me of your problem Madame Duras and that you require passage to your family at Calais. My ship is due to sail tomorrow and it would be an honour to return you to them..."
He held her eye when he said the word family and she suddenly aware that he knew exactly who she was. She prayed that he would maintain her cover story. "Merci Monsieur," she thanked him, dropping a deep curtsey. She was dimly aware of the Sergeant relaying their conversation to the Captain, inwardly cursing all the absolute rotten luck that it was Stephen Waike.
"I understand that you have been abandoned without even the bare necessities for a lady to travel. Please allow me to escort you to my ship," he smiled, "and perhaps I may purchase for you whatever you need along the way?"
"You are too kind," she thanked him, "but may I ask your name Monsieur for we have not been introduced."
"How remiss of me Madame," he apologised. "My name is Waike, Stephen Waike." He turned to the Captain. "If everything is settled Sir, perhaps I may escort Madame Duras to my ship now. You have my assurance that she will be safely delivered to her family in Calais."
"It is generous of you to do this," Captain van Nicobar spoke in English. "It will be favourably remembered when your ship next calls at Cape Town..." He turned to Catherine, taking her hand and kissing it. "Madame Duras," he said quietly.
"Merci Captain," she smiled.
"If you are ready to leave Madame?" Stephen Waike asked, offering her his arm and leading her from the room. He allowed her to stop at a small shop to buy a comb and some items to wash with before he guided her to his ship.
***
Isaac and Jean Claude watched her board the ship, surprised to find her with her hand on the man's arm. Isaac started forwards. "Hold!" Jean Claude warned. "We do not want to blunder into whatever is going on. Let us find Cenydd." He looked at the younger man in exasperation. "You can be discrete? Can't you?"
Isaac cast him a sour glance and they melted back into the shadows, quietly drinking in the taverns nearby until they heard what they needed to know. Cenydd was dead but they heard nothing of Catherine until Jean Claude caught the name Duras. Instantly he realised her plan and he leaned across, speaking urgently to Isaac. "If Catherine is calling herself Madame Duras then she is pretending to be French. I don't know what tale she has spun but it seems that the authorities here believe she is not a pirate. She does not realise we are here and is obviously trying to make her way back to us... we must find out all we can about the Thames Rose and - if possible - get you onboard."
"And what if there are no vacancies?" Isaac asked frowning.
"Then we make some," Jean Claude grinned. "It is an English merchant ship - I cannot go but if you can sign on then you will be able to watch over Kitty. At least I will be able to tell Jack your destination when he returns..."
"We'd best start then," Isaac smiled.
***
Stephen Waike led Catherine into his cabin, closing the door behind him. "I think we can dispense with all of this falsehood now, don't you. What is my brother calling himself... Sparrow wasn't it?" He looked at her, judging her. "That was quite a tale you spun the poor Captain, but it seems to have backfired upon you, doesn't it?"
"We shall see," she said quietly, studying him as he stood before he, wishing she could wipe the triumphant smile off his face. Although she could see a family resemblance, especially in the eyes, he was as different to Jack as could be - like a thoroughbred compared with a shire horse. Stephen was all bulk, thickset and tall whereas Jack was slim and lithe.
"Are you truly married to him?" he asked.
Catherine continued to look at him cautiously. "I am," she confirmed.
"So he will come for you," he smiled, pleased with her revelation. "How far will he go do you reckon?" he asked, leaning over her.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, refusing to be intimidated even though she wanted to take a step back... no, several steps back.
"Why London of course. You will remain in this cabin until we sail tomorrow morning," he warned. "Can't have you deciding to leave before you meet the rest of the family..." He turned to leave, locking the door behind him.
Catherine looked around the small side cabin, trying the window only to find it firmly locked like the door. She sighed, sitting down on the bunk to await his return - clearly she was not going anywhere.
***
Isaac approached the ship, asking if there was any crew openings but he was turned away by the ship's quartermaster. However, when three of his crew disappeared the man came looking for him. "I need more crew - are you still looking for a job?"
"I am," Isaac smiled broadly. "Can I ask our destination?"
"London," the quartermaster advised him, noticing his tan but mistaking him for a local. "You'd best buy yourself a coat - it will be cold at this time of year."
"Aye sir," he nodded. "When do we sail? Do I have time to find a coat?"
"We'll be leaving tomorrow morning - be back by dusk!" the man ordered.
"Aye sir," Isaac acknowledged, heading quickly into the town. He would have to find Jean Claude as well as a coat so that Jack would know their destination.
***
Catherine watched as the door slowly opened to reveal Stephen. She felt crumpled and dishevelled having slept in her dress but had been expecting his visit. She had felt the ship set sail nearly half an hour earlier and judged that they were a fair distance from shore. "You are free to walk my main cabin," he smiled, "as long as I have your word that you will behave."
Catherine ignored his comment. "I'd appreciate the use of your head..."
"Your word first!" he demanded.
"You have my word," she ceded grudgingly, the needs of her bowels giving her little choice but to agree to his demands.
"My private toilet is here." He gestured to one of the side doors that led from the main cabin. "Feel free to use it."
"Thank you," she said sarcastically.
He put a restraining hand on her shoulder, his fingers biting deep until she winced. "Don't sass me!" he threatened. "I don't like being sassed!"
"Don't threaten me!" she countered, staring up at him defiantly. "If you so much as lay a hand on me Jack will kill you - family or not - savvy?"
"His name is John - or hasn't he told you that?" Stephen laughed mockingly as he let her go.
"Jack is more of a man than you will ever be," she hissed angrily, shutting the door in his face. She quickly washed and saw to her needs, combing and repining her hair only to find him waiting for her when she opened the door.
"I assume you are hungry. I usually eat at this time of the morning and requested extra food be brought so that you could join me," he smiled graciously. "Please..." he gestured towards a table that had been set for two with silverware and fine porcelain whilst she was washing.
Catherine admitted to herself that there was no way off the ship and that, for now, she was at his mercy. She sat as he held the chair for her before sitting opposite. The cabin doors opened almost immediately and a number of crew walked in carrying trays of food. They laid the trays carefully on the table before discretely withdrawing, shutting the doors behind them.
"Eat," he urged, watching her as she daintily handled the cutlery. She seemed well bred and he wondered how his brother had married her. He wanted to know all about his brother, know what made the little weasel tick, but most of all he wanted to show his mother what had become of her golden boy who she lamented as dead. A pirate! Scum! Lowest of the low! "How long have you known my brother," he began, determined to know more.
"Long enough," Catherine replied, having decided to tell him as little as possible. She saw his eyes darken angrily.
"I asked you a question woman!" he shouted.
"And I answered it," she retorted. "You clearly hold my husband in as much affection as he holds you therefore I will tell you nothing!"
Stephen rose angrily, storming around the table to where she sat. Catherine gasped in pain as he grabbed her wrist, hauling her to her feet and pinning her against the bulkhead, her wrists above her head. "You will answer me!" he shouted, his eyes black, inches from her face.
Catherine paled but her voice held steady. "No," she whispered, flinching as he raised his hand - but the blow never fell. She found herself whirled round and forced into the side cabin.
"Then you will stay confined until you answer!" Stephen's bulk filled the narrow doorway. "Although I doubt you will want to ruin your pretty dress by sleeping in it..." His hands reached around to her laces, undoing them.
"You bastard!" she cursed, kicking out at him in desperation. "Keep your hands off me!"
Stephen laughed, pushing her against the bunk and picking up her dress before she could retaliate. He turned and left, the key clicking as he locked the door. It was a long journey home and if she wanted food or water then she would talk.
Catherine sat on the bunk, hearing his footsteps fade. Despite the heat she felt cold and crawled beneath the blankets, shuddering. Her hands reached for her necklace, holding the pearls tightly for comfort as she prayed that Jack would come for her soon.
I lied... I'll give you five chapters today as I'm feeling nice!
***
Catherine found herself confined to the small room that had been assigned to her, grateful that it had a bathroom. She was, however, reluctant to take a bath as she realised she would have to ask somebody to unlace her and lace her back up. The dresses that Jean Claude had bought her although beautiful were highly impractical for a woman on her own.
She kicked off her shoes and for a while lay on the bed, dozing as she had nothing else to do, until a sharp knock on the door woke her from her reverie.
"Madame Duras," the Sergeant assigned to her said. "Captain van Nicobar wishes to see you in his office..."
"Of course," she smiled politely, slipping her shoes back on before following him along the maze of corridors within the fort. He knocked on the door. "Madame Duras," he announced, ushering her inside.
Captain van Nicobar and another gentleman rose as she entered. Her eyes widened slightly when the man turned but she managed to conceal her surprise. "Captain, you wished to see me?" she asked in French, again having to wait for the Sergeant to translate.
"Allow me," Stephen Waike interrupted, speaking fluently in French. He had recognised her immediately as the woman that had been with his brother earlier - the woman his brother had claimed as his wife. "Captain van Nicobar has advised me of your problem Madame Duras and that you require passage to your family at Calais. My ship is due to sail tomorrow and it would be an honour to return you to them..."
He held her eye when he said the word family and she suddenly aware that he knew exactly who she was. She prayed that he would maintain her cover story. "Merci Monsieur," she thanked him, dropping a deep curtsey. She was dimly aware of the Sergeant relaying their conversation to the Captain, inwardly cursing all the absolute rotten luck that it was Stephen Waike.
"I understand that you have been abandoned without even the bare necessities for a lady to travel. Please allow me to escort you to my ship," he smiled, "and perhaps I may purchase for you whatever you need along the way?"
"You are too kind," she thanked him, "but may I ask your name Monsieur for we have not been introduced."
"How remiss of me Madame," he apologised. "My name is Waike, Stephen Waike." He turned to the Captain. "If everything is settled Sir, perhaps I may escort Madame Duras to my ship now. You have my assurance that she will be safely delivered to her family in Calais."
"It is generous of you to do this," Captain van Nicobar spoke in English. "It will be favourably remembered when your ship next calls at Cape Town..." He turned to Catherine, taking her hand and kissing it. "Madame Duras," he said quietly.
"Merci Captain," she smiled.
"If you are ready to leave Madame?" Stephen Waike asked, offering her his arm and leading her from the room. He allowed her to stop at a small shop to buy a comb and some items to wash with before he guided her to his ship.
***
Isaac and Jean Claude watched her board the ship, surprised to find her with her hand on the man's arm. Isaac started forwards. "Hold!" Jean Claude warned. "We do not want to blunder into whatever is going on. Let us find Cenydd." He looked at the younger man in exasperation. "You can be discrete? Can't you?"
Isaac cast him a sour glance and they melted back into the shadows, quietly drinking in the taverns nearby until they heard what they needed to know. Cenydd was dead but they heard nothing of Catherine until Jean Claude caught the name Duras. Instantly he realised her plan and he leaned across, speaking urgently to Isaac. "If Catherine is calling herself Madame Duras then she is pretending to be French. I don't know what tale she has spun but it seems that the authorities here believe she is not a pirate. She does not realise we are here and is obviously trying to make her way back to us... we must find out all we can about the Thames Rose and - if possible - get you onboard."
"And what if there are no vacancies?" Isaac asked frowning.
"Then we make some," Jean Claude grinned. "It is an English merchant ship - I cannot go but if you can sign on then you will be able to watch over Kitty. At least I will be able to tell Jack your destination when he returns..."
"We'd best start then," Isaac smiled.
***
Stephen Waike led Catherine into his cabin, closing the door behind him. "I think we can dispense with all of this falsehood now, don't you. What is my brother calling himself... Sparrow wasn't it?" He looked at her, judging her. "That was quite a tale you spun the poor Captain, but it seems to have backfired upon you, doesn't it?"
"We shall see," she said quietly, studying him as he stood before he, wishing she could wipe the triumphant smile off his face. Although she could see a family resemblance, especially in the eyes, he was as different to Jack as could be - like a thoroughbred compared with a shire horse. Stephen was all bulk, thickset and tall whereas Jack was slim and lithe.
"Are you truly married to him?" he asked.
Catherine continued to look at him cautiously. "I am," she confirmed.
"So he will come for you," he smiled, pleased with her revelation. "How far will he go do you reckon?" he asked, leaning over her.
"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, refusing to be intimidated even though she wanted to take a step back... no, several steps back.
"Why London of course. You will remain in this cabin until we sail tomorrow morning," he warned. "Can't have you deciding to leave before you meet the rest of the family..." He turned to leave, locking the door behind him.
Catherine looked around the small side cabin, trying the window only to find it firmly locked like the door. She sighed, sitting down on the bunk to await his return - clearly she was not going anywhere.
***
Isaac approached the ship, asking if there was any crew openings but he was turned away by the ship's quartermaster. However, when three of his crew disappeared the man came looking for him. "I need more crew - are you still looking for a job?"
"I am," Isaac smiled broadly. "Can I ask our destination?"
"London," the quartermaster advised him, noticing his tan but mistaking him for a local. "You'd best buy yourself a coat - it will be cold at this time of year."
"Aye sir," he nodded. "When do we sail? Do I have time to find a coat?"
"We'll be leaving tomorrow morning - be back by dusk!" the man ordered.
"Aye sir," Isaac acknowledged, heading quickly into the town. He would have to find Jean Claude as well as a coat so that Jack would know their destination.
***
Catherine watched as the door slowly opened to reveal Stephen. She felt crumpled and dishevelled having slept in her dress but had been expecting his visit. She had felt the ship set sail nearly half an hour earlier and judged that they were a fair distance from shore. "You are free to walk my main cabin," he smiled, "as long as I have your word that you will behave."
Catherine ignored his comment. "I'd appreciate the use of your head..."
"Your word first!" he demanded.
"You have my word," she ceded grudgingly, the needs of her bowels giving her little choice but to agree to his demands.
"My private toilet is here." He gestured to one of the side doors that led from the main cabin. "Feel free to use it."
"Thank you," she said sarcastically.
He put a restraining hand on her shoulder, his fingers biting deep until she winced. "Don't sass me!" he threatened. "I don't like being sassed!"
"Don't threaten me!" she countered, staring up at him defiantly. "If you so much as lay a hand on me Jack will kill you - family or not - savvy?"
"His name is John - or hasn't he told you that?" Stephen laughed mockingly as he let her go.
"Jack is more of a man than you will ever be," she hissed angrily, shutting the door in his face. She quickly washed and saw to her needs, combing and repining her hair only to find him waiting for her when she opened the door.
"I assume you are hungry. I usually eat at this time of the morning and requested extra food be brought so that you could join me," he smiled graciously. "Please..." he gestured towards a table that had been set for two with silverware and fine porcelain whilst she was washing.
Catherine admitted to herself that there was no way off the ship and that, for now, she was at his mercy. She sat as he held the chair for her before sitting opposite. The cabin doors opened almost immediately and a number of crew walked in carrying trays of food. They laid the trays carefully on the table before discretely withdrawing, shutting the doors behind them.
"Eat," he urged, watching her as she daintily handled the cutlery. She seemed well bred and he wondered how his brother had married her. He wanted to know all about his brother, know what made the little weasel tick, but most of all he wanted to show his mother what had become of her golden boy who she lamented as dead. A pirate! Scum! Lowest of the low! "How long have you known my brother," he began, determined to know more.
"Long enough," Catherine replied, having decided to tell him as little as possible. She saw his eyes darken angrily.
"I asked you a question woman!" he shouted.
"And I answered it," she retorted. "You clearly hold my husband in as much affection as he holds you therefore I will tell you nothing!"
Stephen rose angrily, storming around the table to where she sat. Catherine gasped in pain as he grabbed her wrist, hauling her to her feet and pinning her against the bulkhead, her wrists above her head. "You will answer me!" he shouted, his eyes black, inches from her face.
Catherine paled but her voice held steady. "No," she whispered, flinching as he raised his hand - but the blow never fell. She found herself whirled round and forced into the side cabin.
"Then you will stay confined until you answer!" Stephen's bulk filled the narrow doorway. "Although I doubt you will want to ruin your pretty dress by sleeping in it..." His hands reached around to her laces, undoing them.
"You bastard!" she cursed, kicking out at him in desperation. "Keep your hands off me!"
Stephen laughed, pushing her against the bunk and picking up her dress before she could retaliate. He turned and left, the key clicking as he locked the door. It was a long journey home and if she wanted food or water then she would talk.
Catherine sat on the bunk, hearing his footsteps fade. Despite the heat she felt cold and crawled beneath the blankets, shuddering. Her hands reached for her necklace, holding the pearls tightly for comfort as she prayed that Jack would come for her soon.