Usual disclaimers... blah! blah! blah!
Linnie - These chapters are especially for you!
Starlight8 - Big grin! I'll email you when I can!
New reviewers - Welcome and thank you!
The rest of you - Hugs!
***
Isaac slipped easily into life onboard the English ship, although he was careful to reveal little about himself to his new crew members. It soon became obvious to even the dimmest member of the crew that the Captain had a woman in his cabin. The gossip amongst the crew was rife about her, but apart from that breakfast, none ever saw her. Sometimes at night, when he was on watch, he could hear the sounds of crying coming from the cabin and wished that there was some way he could let her know that he was there but his prime purpose was to find out where she was being taken and to guide Jack and the others to her when they eventually arrived.
***
Catherine stared defiantly at Stephen as he unlocked the door, allowing her access to his toilet before forcing her back to the cabin.
"Are you going to talk to me today?" he asked, unsurprised when she did not initially answer.
"May I have the window open," she eventually asked. The heat had been unbearable in the cabin for the last week and the nearer they got to the Equator the worse it was becoming.
"Will you tell me about my brother?" he demanded.
"No." She shook her head in emphasis. "I will not."
"Then the window will remain shut." He handed her a tray of food and a pitcher of water before locking her in again. Catherine put the tray on the bed, eyeing the fork that he had given her to eat her food with. She tested it for strength, relieved when it did not bend before setting to work on the lock of the window, gradually levering it open. The breeze immediately filled the cabin and she sat cross-legged in her undershift on the bunk whilst she ate her breakfast
***
Stephen stared at her in disbelief as she sat on the bunk, her hair blowing across her face in the breeze from the window. The grooves in the timbers evidence of her efforts to force it open. "How dare you!" he raged, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her into the cabin. He pushed her from him, sending her crashing into the table.
He strode to the door, throwing it open. "Ossett!" he shouted. "Ossett! Bring a hammer and some nails!" He turned back to Catherine, surprised to see her lip bleeding where she had hit the table. "You will not disobey my orders so lightly!
The man she assumed was Ossett stood in the doorway, hammer and nails in hand. "You wanted these Sir?" he asked, trying not to stare at the woman in her undershift.
"I want that window nailed shut!" he ordered tersely, pointing to the side cabin.
"Aye Sir," Frank Ossett replied, carrying out the order with a few short blows. "Will there be anything else Sir?" he asked, looking with pity on the small woman who was sleeping in the cabin for it would be unbearable hot so close to the Equator.
"No, that is all!" Stephen Waike ushered him from the cabin, shutting the door behind him. "And now you will return to your cabin!"
Catherine kicked at him as he forced her back into the small cabin, again stifling with no breeze. "Damn you!" she cursed. "Open the window!"
He locked her in, not speaking, his boot steps echoing into the distance. She stared at the window angrily, determined to at least get some breeze. Catherine shrugged to herself - he had asked for it. There was no way she was sweltering! Taking off one of her shoes she brought the heel sharply against the glass until half of them were shattered. Again a breeze filled the cabin and she settled down to rest on the bunk, waiting for her next visitation.
***
Frank Ossett was much sought after by the rest of the crew at the end of his watch and he regaled them with the story of how he had had to fix the window by nailing it shut. "It had been forced open - the lock was clean broken!"
"And the woman!" the others urged. "Tell us about the woman Frank!"
He warmed to the occasion, sure of the attention of his audience. "Ah yes, the woman. Well, she was a looker, I can tell you! A slip of a thing, all red hair and red temper if the glare on her face was anything to go by... and there she stood in just her undershift..."
"Her undershift?" they gasped. Isaac listened and worried.
"Well it was probably hot in the cabin... I know my temperature rose!" he chuckled.
"Ossett!" Stephen Waike's voice echoed from above. "Ossett!"
"Oh no," he sighed. "I wonder what she's broken now!" He headed up onto deck, ribald offers of help following his departure.
***
Catherine picked herself up off the floor. She had expected him to be angry - she had after all broken several panes of glass in the window - but the strength of his blow had surprised her. She rubbed her cheek, running her tongue around her teeth checking they were all there. "Like father, like son is it?" she sneered.
He strode to the cabin door, shouting for the carpenter. "Ossett! I want this window boarded up - now!"
"Aye Sir!" Frank Ossett nodded. "I'll need to find some timber..."
"Do so!" Stephen ordered tersely, staring at her until the man returned. Sounds of hammering echoed from the cabin.
"All done Sir," Frank informed him. "Be awful dark though - do you want me to find some candles?"
"No!" he ordered. "She'll probably only try to burn things!"
"Aye Sir." He backed towards the door, shutting it quickly behind him. Whatever was going on in that cabin he wanted no part of it - the bruise on the woman's face assured him of that.
"In you go!" Stephen ordered, hauling her across the cabin towards the small side cabin.
"Let me go you bastard!" Catherine shouted, trying to fight against him but he was too big and too strong. He threw her inside and locked the door again, leaving her in darkness. "Let me out!" she banged on the door. "Let me out!" but he walked away. She felt her way despondently to the bunk, realising he had shut her in with no water and already the cabin was getting stifling hot. Pressing her face to the boards she realised there was not even a crack for a breeze to get through and she lay back on the pillow dejectedly. She shut her eyes, but in the heat sleep would not come, so she lay listlessly on the bed, tossing and turning as she tried to find a more comfortable spot.
***
Stephen sat at his table, eating his supper whilst pondering the problem of his guest in the side cabin. Apart from the initial pounding on the door he had heard nothing from her all day. What was it about the damned woman that so riled him, made him angry all the time. He sipped his wine, gradually admitting that she reminded him of his brother - defiant, antagonistic - hell, she even had some of his mannerisms. He wondered how long she had been married to his brother and if they had children, thinking of his own brood and the dutiful wife that awaited him at home. Francesca was plump and plain, but had brought him control of her father's fleet of merchant ships on his death. A profitable marriage if not a loving one.
He stared at the door again. Love. She obviously loved his brother else she would have told him what he wanted days ago, but still she defied him. He twirled the stem of the wineglass in his hand, realising belatedly that she had not had any food or water that day. He snorted - let her suffer and perhaps tomorrow she would talk.
***
The door opened, and for a moment the suffocating heat within the cabin eased. She rose, knowing that she needed the head but her legs gave way when she stood and she crashed to the deck, banging her head as she fell. A groan escaped her lips but she remembered no more, darkness claiming her.
***
Stephen looked at the woman in shock, the heat within the cabin hitting him like a furnace. "Breffney!" he shouted for the ships doctor. "Breffney!"
A large, rotund bespectacled man dashed into the cabin. "Sir?" he asked, gasping when he saw the woman unconscious on the floor. Although the heat had eased slightly with the door opening, it was still stifling as he knelt to attend her.
"What is wrong with her?" Stephen demanded. "Is she faking it?" He would believe anything of her if the previous day's behaviour was anything to go by.
"No Sir, she's very sick," Paul Breffney said quietly. "How long has she been in this cabin... in this heat?"
"Since Ossett boarded the window... yesterday morning. What is wrong with her?"
"Overcome with the heat Sir," he explained. "She needs to be kept cool and to have plenty of water." He looked up at his employer worriedly. "If she goes back in that cabin like this for another day you will kill her..."
Stephen blinked. Killing her had not been his intention and even that weasel of a brother of his would take it ill if she died. "See to whatever she needs," he ordered. "I will be on deck!"
Paul Breffney looked down at the woman, hardly recognising her from Ossett's initial description of her - skin slick with sweat and her hair clinging damply to her face. He picked her up, laying her again on the bunk. "Can't see a bleedin'..." he cursed. "Ossett!" He stomped out on deck, looking for the ships carpenter. "Ossett! Take that board off the window and see if we have any glass to re-glaze the window - and fix the lock too!"
"Anything else?" Frank Ossett asked sourly, unhappy at being ordered by the doctor.
"Not for now," Paul Breffney countered, "unless you want me to tell Mister Waike you are reluctant to carry out his orders?"
Frank stomped below decks to find his tools, cursing the day that Captain Camerino had fallen sick and that the ship's owner had been forced to take command for the important journey to Cape Town. Mister Waike was a far harder task master than the Captain and had a hell of a temper.
Paul realised he could not see a thing in the cabin until the window had been reopened and picked up the woman again, carrying her out to the main cabin. He spotted a crew member near the cabin doors. "Smith!" he called. "Bring me some fresh water quickly!"
Isaac blinked, surprised at his good fortune as he ran towards the water barrel, carrying a beaker of water back to the main cabin. He handed it to the doctor, crouching down next to Catherine. "What's wrong with her?" he asked worriedly, noticing the cut on her forehead and a dark bruise on her cheek.
"Just overcome with heat I think," Paul Breffney said. "She hit her head as she fell... damn!" he cursed as he rummaged in his bag, realising that the pot of salve he wanted was still in his small cabin below decks. "Stay with her and keep her cool... bathe her face and try to get her to drink if she wakes..."
Isaac nodded, waiting for him to leave before trying to get Catherine to wake. "Kitty!" he hissed, "Kitty!" She blinked, her eyes slowly opening.
"Iss..." His fingers on her lips shushed her from saying anything.
He glanced around, relieved nobody was nearby. "I'm onboard. Jean Claude is in Cape Town. When Jack returns he will know where we've gone..."
"How did you..." she croaked as he helped her sit up, handing her the water.
"Jean Claude and I jumped. Jack dropped a small ships boat and we rowed to shore..." he smiled.
"But the sharks!" she gasped.
"Guess they didn't think we were tasty enough.." He stopped suddenly, hearing Paul Breffney return. "You feeling better now Mistress?" he asked, aware of the doctor behind him.
"Ah good, you're awake," he smiled. "Let's get your head seen to..."
Isaac rose. "I'll be off now then," he smiled. "If you need anything, just ask for me. Name's Smith, Isaac Smith..."
"Thank you Isaac," she smiled. "You've been most kind." His words had reassured her and it was a comfort to know she was not alone on the ship.
***
With Paul Breffney caring for her, Catherine found herself no longer restricted to the side cabin. He courteously helped her with her laces each morning and night, and she was allowed to walk the decks of the ship as long as she was accompanied to ensure she did not try anything. Stephen ordered the men accompanying her to be rotated so that she formed no friendships with them - but one day the duty fell to Isaac and she climbed the stairs to the forecastle, staring northwards into the distance. Her legs braced against the movement of the ship, she was swamped by the heavy overcoat that the doctor had loaned her.
Isaac shivered in the drizzling rain. "What's this all about Kitty?" he asked quietly, ensuring they could not be overheard. "Why does this Waike want you?"
Catherine glanced sideways at him, sighing. "It is not me he wants, but Jack," she replied. "But I cannot tell you anything more than that..."
"Why not?" he pressed. "Aren't we in this together?"
"To tell you would mean that breaking my word to Jack... I am sorry." Although she continued to look out to sea, her words were as soft as if she were facing him. "You may learn some things that even I did not know until a few weeks ago," she admitted, "but as a crew member of the Black Pearl I ask you to hold that confidence."
"You believe I would tell my father?" he hissed in surprise.
"Anyone can find themselves torn," she sighed sadly, turning to him. "I think I'll go back inside now..."
Isaac nodded and escorted her back to the main cabin, grateful that at least he would be able to get out of the rain for a while below decks. He wondered what a merchant shipper that had never sailed to the Caribbean would want with a pirate that almost exclusively sailed those waters. He shrugged, shaking the water from his coat and hanging it up to dry. Whatever the reason, it was a puzzle to be sure.
***
Linnie - These chapters are especially for you!
Starlight8 - Big grin! I'll email you when I can!
New reviewers - Welcome and thank you!
The rest of you - Hugs!
***
Isaac slipped easily into life onboard the English ship, although he was careful to reveal little about himself to his new crew members. It soon became obvious to even the dimmest member of the crew that the Captain had a woman in his cabin. The gossip amongst the crew was rife about her, but apart from that breakfast, none ever saw her. Sometimes at night, when he was on watch, he could hear the sounds of crying coming from the cabin and wished that there was some way he could let her know that he was there but his prime purpose was to find out where she was being taken and to guide Jack and the others to her when they eventually arrived.
***
Catherine stared defiantly at Stephen as he unlocked the door, allowing her access to his toilet before forcing her back to the cabin.
"Are you going to talk to me today?" he asked, unsurprised when she did not initially answer.
"May I have the window open," she eventually asked. The heat had been unbearable in the cabin for the last week and the nearer they got to the Equator the worse it was becoming.
"Will you tell me about my brother?" he demanded.
"No." She shook her head in emphasis. "I will not."
"Then the window will remain shut." He handed her a tray of food and a pitcher of water before locking her in again. Catherine put the tray on the bed, eyeing the fork that he had given her to eat her food with. She tested it for strength, relieved when it did not bend before setting to work on the lock of the window, gradually levering it open. The breeze immediately filled the cabin and she sat cross-legged in her undershift on the bunk whilst she ate her breakfast
***
Stephen stared at her in disbelief as she sat on the bunk, her hair blowing across her face in the breeze from the window. The grooves in the timbers evidence of her efforts to force it open. "How dare you!" he raged, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her into the cabin. He pushed her from him, sending her crashing into the table.
He strode to the door, throwing it open. "Ossett!" he shouted. "Ossett! Bring a hammer and some nails!" He turned back to Catherine, surprised to see her lip bleeding where she had hit the table. "You will not disobey my orders so lightly!
The man she assumed was Ossett stood in the doorway, hammer and nails in hand. "You wanted these Sir?" he asked, trying not to stare at the woman in her undershift.
"I want that window nailed shut!" he ordered tersely, pointing to the side cabin.
"Aye Sir," Frank Ossett replied, carrying out the order with a few short blows. "Will there be anything else Sir?" he asked, looking with pity on the small woman who was sleeping in the cabin for it would be unbearable hot so close to the Equator.
"No, that is all!" Stephen Waike ushered him from the cabin, shutting the door behind him. "And now you will return to your cabin!"
Catherine kicked at him as he forced her back into the small cabin, again stifling with no breeze. "Damn you!" she cursed. "Open the window!"
He locked her in, not speaking, his boot steps echoing into the distance. She stared at the window angrily, determined to at least get some breeze. Catherine shrugged to herself - he had asked for it. There was no way she was sweltering! Taking off one of her shoes she brought the heel sharply against the glass until half of them were shattered. Again a breeze filled the cabin and she settled down to rest on the bunk, waiting for her next visitation.
***
Frank Ossett was much sought after by the rest of the crew at the end of his watch and he regaled them with the story of how he had had to fix the window by nailing it shut. "It had been forced open - the lock was clean broken!"
"And the woman!" the others urged. "Tell us about the woman Frank!"
He warmed to the occasion, sure of the attention of his audience. "Ah yes, the woman. Well, she was a looker, I can tell you! A slip of a thing, all red hair and red temper if the glare on her face was anything to go by... and there she stood in just her undershift..."
"Her undershift?" they gasped. Isaac listened and worried.
"Well it was probably hot in the cabin... I know my temperature rose!" he chuckled.
"Ossett!" Stephen Waike's voice echoed from above. "Ossett!"
"Oh no," he sighed. "I wonder what she's broken now!" He headed up onto deck, ribald offers of help following his departure.
***
Catherine picked herself up off the floor. She had expected him to be angry - she had after all broken several panes of glass in the window - but the strength of his blow had surprised her. She rubbed her cheek, running her tongue around her teeth checking they were all there. "Like father, like son is it?" she sneered.
He strode to the cabin door, shouting for the carpenter. "Ossett! I want this window boarded up - now!"
"Aye Sir!" Frank Ossett nodded. "I'll need to find some timber..."
"Do so!" Stephen ordered tersely, staring at her until the man returned. Sounds of hammering echoed from the cabin.
"All done Sir," Frank informed him. "Be awful dark though - do you want me to find some candles?"
"No!" he ordered. "She'll probably only try to burn things!"
"Aye Sir." He backed towards the door, shutting it quickly behind him. Whatever was going on in that cabin he wanted no part of it - the bruise on the woman's face assured him of that.
"In you go!" Stephen ordered, hauling her across the cabin towards the small side cabin.
"Let me go you bastard!" Catherine shouted, trying to fight against him but he was too big and too strong. He threw her inside and locked the door again, leaving her in darkness. "Let me out!" she banged on the door. "Let me out!" but he walked away. She felt her way despondently to the bunk, realising he had shut her in with no water and already the cabin was getting stifling hot. Pressing her face to the boards she realised there was not even a crack for a breeze to get through and she lay back on the pillow dejectedly. She shut her eyes, but in the heat sleep would not come, so she lay listlessly on the bed, tossing and turning as she tried to find a more comfortable spot.
***
Stephen sat at his table, eating his supper whilst pondering the problem of his guest in the side cabin. Apart from the initial pounding on the door he had heard nothing from her all day. What was it about the damned woman that so riled him, made him angry all the time. He sipped his wine, gradually admitting that she reminded him of his brother - defiant, antagonistic - hell, she even had some of his mannerisms. He wondered how long she had been married to his brother and if they had children, thinking of his own brood and the dutiful wife that awaited him at home. Francesca was plump and plain, but had brought him control of her father's fleet of merchant ships on his death. A profitable marriage if not a loving one.
He stared at the door again. Love. She obviously loved his brother else she would have told him what he wanted days ago, but still she defied him. He twirled the stem of the wineglass in his hand, realising belatedly that she had not had any food or water that day. He snorted - let her suffer and perhaps tomorrow she would talk.
***
The door opened, and for a moment the suffocating heat within the cabin eased. She rose, knowing that she needed the head but her legs gave way when she stood and she crashed to the deck, banging her head as she fell. A groan escaped her lips but she remembered no more, darkness claiming her.
***
Stephen looked at the woman in shock, the heat within the cabin hitting him like a furnace. "Breffney!" he shouted for the ships doctor. "Breffney!"
A large, rotund bespectacled man dashed into the cabin. "Sir?" he asked, gasping when he saw the woman unconscious on the floor. Although the heat had eased slightly with the door opening, it was still stifling as he knelt to attend her.
"What is wrong with her?" Stephen demanded. "Is she faking it?" He would believe anything of her if the previous day's behaviour was anything to go by.
"No Sir, she's very sick," Paul Breffney said quietly. "How long has she been in this cabin... in this heat?"
"Since Ossett boarded the window... yesterday morning. What is wrong with her?"
"Overcome with the heat Sir," he explained. "She needs to be kept cool and to have plenty of water." He looked up at his employer worriedly. "If she goes back in that cabin like this for another day you will kill her..."
Stephen blinked. Killing her had not been his intention and even that weasel of a brother of his would take it ill if she died. "See to whatever she needs," he ordered. "I will be on deck!"
Paul Breffney looked down at the woman, hardly recognising her from Ossett's initial description of her - skin slick with sweat and her hair clinging damply to her face. He picked her up, laying her again on the bunk. "Can't see a bleedin'..." he cursed. "Ossett!" He stomped out on deck, looking for the ships carpenter. "Ossett! Take that board off the window and see if we have any glass to re-glaze the window - and fix the lock too!"
"Anything else?" Frank Ossett asked sourly, unhappy at being ordered by the doctor.
"Not for now," Paul Breffney countered, "unless you want me to tell Mister Waike you are reluctant to carry out his orders?"
Frank stomped below decks to find his tools, cursing the day that Captain Camerino had fallen sick and that the ship's owner had been forced to take command for the important journey to Cape Town. Mister Waike was a far harder task master than the Captain and had a hell of a temper.
Paul realised he could not see a thing in the cabin until the window had been reopened and picked up the woman again, carrying her out to the main cabin. He spotted a crew member near the cabin doors. "Smith!" he called. "Bring me some fresh water quickly!"
Isaac blinked, surprised at his good fortune as he ran towards the water barrel, carrying a beaker of water back to the main cabin. He handed it to the doctor, crouching down next to Catherine. "What's wrong with her?" he asked worriedly, noticing the cut on her forehead and a dark bruise on her cheek.
"Just overcome with heat I think," Paul Breffney said. "She hit her head as she fell... damn!" he cursed as he rummaged in his bag, realising that the pot of salve he wanted was still in his small cabin below decks. "Stay with her and keep her cool... bathe her face and try to get her to drink if she wakes..."
Isaac nodded, waiting for him to leave before trying to get Catherine to wake. "Kitty!" he hissed, "Kitty!" She blinked, her eyes slowly opening.
"Iss..." His fingers on her lips shushed her from saying anything.
He glanced around, relieved nobody was nearby. "I'm onboard. Jean Claude is in Cape Town. When Jack returns he will know where we've gone..."
"How did you..." she croaked as he helped her sit up, handing her the water.
"Jean Claude and I jumped. Jack dropped a small ships boat and we rowed to shore..." he smiled.
"But the sharks!" she gasped.
"Guess they didn't think we were tasty enough.." He stopped suddenly, hearing Paul Breffney return. "You feeling better now Mistress?" he asked, aware of the doctor behind him.
"Ah good, you're awake," he smiled. "Let's get your head seen to..."
Isaac rose. "I'll be off now then," he smiled. "If you need anything, just ask for me. Name's Smith, Isaac Smith..."
"Thank you Isaac," she smiled. "You've been most kind." His words had reassured her and it was a comfort to know she was not alone on the ship.
***
With Paul Breffney caring for her, Catherine found herself no longer restricted to the side cabin. He courteously helped her with her laces each morning and night, and she was allowed to walk the decks of the ship as long as she was accompanied to ensure she did not try anything. Stephen ordered the men accompanying her to be rotated so that she formed no friendships with them - but one day the duty fell to Isaac and she climbed the stairs to the forecastle, staring northwards into the distance. Her legs braced against the movement of the ship, she was swamped by the heavy overcoat that the doctor had loaned her.
Isaac shivered in the drizzling rain. "What's this all about Kitty?" he asked quietly, ensuring they could not be overheard. "Why does this Waike want you?"
Catherine glanced sideways at him, sighing. "It is not me he wants, but Jack," she replied. "But I cannot tell you anything more than that..."
"Why not?" he pressed. "Aren't we in this together?"
"To tell you would mean that breaking my word to Jack... I am sorry." Although she continued to look out to sea, her words were as soft as if she were facing him. "You may learn some things that even I did not know until a few weeks ago," she admitted, "but as a crew member of the Black Pearl I ask you to hold that confidence."
"You believe I would tell my father?" he hissed in surprise.
"Anyone can find themselves torn," she sighed sadly, turning to him. "I think I'll go back inside now..."
Isaac nodded and escorted her back to the main cabin, grateful that at least he would be able to get out of the rain for a while below decks. He wondered what a merchant shipper that had never sailed to the Caribbean would want with a pirate that almost exclusively sailed those waters. He shrugged, shaking the water from his coat and hanging it up to dry. Whatever the reason, it was a puzzle to be sure.
***