Chapter Seven

The haze of confusion that had fallen over me two nights ago had lasted for only day. I rarely saw Lucien if it was not a chess night, so the thoughts that had plagued me so much had receded to back of my mind. In fact, any inner turmoil I had experienced that night was temporarily forgotten as I hummed an old tune I'd learned in the kitchens at Greenwich Castle to myself and swept the front porch of The Eve. One of the cleaning girls had fallen ill and I volunteered to pick up the slack. I didn't mind it so much; doing random cleaning jobs around The Eve was a welcome break from the heat and frenzied pace of the kitchens. As I was solely focused on making the porch look clean and inviting, I didn't notice the man sitting at the other end until he spoke.

"So you weren't hanged for trespassing," a voice carried over the sound of my humming. I looked around, confused. When my eye fell on him, my forehead creased even further…how would he know about that little misconception? He did not resemble a one of the four young men who had chased after me. For one, he was relatively clean.

"Have we met?" I asked with a touch of annoyance. As soon as the question left my lips, however, the light of recognition washed over me. He was the man at the tavern I had been staring at so frankly.

"Briefly," he answered with a wry twist of his lips. "Jack Trade, jack of all trades."

I wondered briefly if he was serious about his name, but I decided not to even acknowledge his introduction and instead I angrily used the handle of the broom as a pointer to put him on the spot. "You follow me here?"

He held his hands up in surrender. "I'm a passing seaman, looking for a bit of rest and recuperation."

"Codswallop," I snorted. "I remember you giving your last two pence to the barmaid for a pint, you haven't got nothing in those pockets but air."

"Perceptive one aren't you?" he grinned.

I remained stoic. "If you aint a paying guest, get off this property―"

"You aint the―"

"Or I'll call the owner."

Faced with no other option, the man released a sigh and told me why he had followed me back to the Eve. "When you broke Barmy Bill's nose―"

I gave an unladylike chortle of laughter. "Barmy Bill?" I breathed incredulously.

"Well, that's what they call him; his name's Bill and he's barmy. So anyway, when you broke his nose ―by the way, good shot― I got curious. Then I heard that you scared the shite out of four men and jumped over Foxwood's wall, and I got even more curious. Now I find that you work here and you snuck out to the Dog; it was obviously your first time there. You've got me wondering what…or who you were looking for."

"What's it to you?"

"It's been a while since I had some real mystery in my life, and like I said, you've got me curious."

I studied him then, grinning up at me in the sunlight. He sounded like a walking joke, but he seemed harmless enough. The threat of calling Sir Foxwood had been enough to force him into honesty. This "Jack Trade" was certainly nothing like that disgusting, misshapen old man, Barmy Bill.

"I can't be seen lazing about, you know," I said quietly, looking around. I didn't want anyone to see me, or worse, hear me, especially not Susanna. "You've kept me from my work long enough, but I can make…arrangements."

"Arrangements, eh?"

"When the moon is high, be at the Dog sitting in the same spot, alright?" I said, looking at him steadily, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You've got secrets about you, that's for sure," he nodded.

"Now get off this property and never set foot near it again unless you've got money!" I said, loud enough so that anyone who had been might have been trying to listen in could hear me.

Trade winked at me and tipped his hat. "Never again, miss."

Feeling greatly confused, I watched him amble down the porch steps and make his way back to the other side of town. I had never met such people before in my life; from Lucien to Barmy Bill to Jack Trade, my life seemed to be taking curious turns. I wondered what my meeting with Trade later on tonight would reveal to me. He appeared to be a pirate down on his luck, but there was more to him than that. I could see no trace of cruelty behind his open smile and sparking brown eyes. I recalled our first meeting at the tavern though…he had not been full of such good humor then. In fact, he'd practically tried to kill me with a glare just for looking at him. Alright, so I had been staring a bit…

"Belle, the bed in ocean view suite four needs to be redressed; Mister and Missus Hyde are leaving," a girl named Kate informed me from the door.

"Alright," I nodded. I sighed and let all thoughts of Jack Trade return when the sun set.

After dinner, I cleaned the dining room in what must have been record speed. Ordinarily, I would have lingered on each table and taken my time waiting for Lucien, but I couldn't possibly meet him tonight. Instead, I hurried through my duties without my usual care and scribbled a hasty note, leaving it on the seat of the chair he usually sat in.

Lucien,

I'm resting tonight; I'm feeling a bit ill. Don't wait up for me.

-B.

I felt bad about lying, especially when he believed in me so much, but I had to see what this Jack Trade was on about. I carefully snuck out of the back service door under the cover of night and a black cloak. Now that I knew the way to the Scurvy Dog, I didn't have to make my way through the gardens and jump over the wall again. I'd rather not have to explain away any random bumps and bruises tomorrow. Keeping the hood of my cloak securely over my head, I quickened my pace as the Scurvy Dog came into view. This time, I was prepared for the cloud of tobacco upon opening the door, but I didn't gag any less. Sliding in between cluttered tables, I made my way to the back, where Trade was waiting. I slid into the empty seat beside him and he turned to look at me.

"I wonder…is it just as dark under that cloak?" he asked. I supposed he was asking if I was the same girl he'd met before.

"Aye, it is," I answered. "I don't want Badger Bob or whoever to recognize me."

"Smart move," he grinned slightly.

"So what do you want to know about me?" I asked bluntly.

"Who is this splash of color who's just appeared out of nowhere and broken Barmy Bill's nose?" he asked seriously, looking into the depths of the black cloak, searching for my eyes.

"Oribelle Roberts."

"Roberts, eh?" he arched an eyebrow. He pretended to be only vaguely interested, but I could practically see the gears turning in his mind. A light turned on behind his eyes.

"Something interesting about my surname?"

"Well, there's this bloke I know, he's a privateer, savvy? See, he's got the same skin as you, and his name is Bellamy Roberts. Aint no other brown seafarin' man that frequents England, I'm sure. So aye, your name is a bit interesting."

"Interestingly enough," I drawled, playing along. "He's my father."

"You don't say?" the man whistled low. "Now, every seaman worth his salt knows about Cap'n Roberts, but no man knows he has a daughter."

"Not even him," I confirmed. "No one save my employer and now, you, know about my existence…and my mother, but she's dead."

"So sorry to hear that, but you wouldn't mind telling me who she was, now would you?"

"As a matter of fact I would. Telling you that would put some people in…bad positions."

"The mystery continues," Trade remarked."So Roberts has never met you, eh?"

I sighed. "No, I've told you, he knows naught of me, but I'm his daughter."

"And you're not tellin' a sailor's tale?" he asked, those expressive eyebrows of his both rising as far as they would go.

"What reason would I have for lying? A privateer means nothing to nobody."

"Right, right…" Trade trailed off. I suspected Captain Roberts meant something to him.

"Have I satisfied your curiosity?" I asked sharply.

"Well, not quite," Trade cleared his throat. "See, every seaman worth his salt may know of Cap'n Roberts, but only a few know him personally."

My heart skipped a beat. "You…"

"Aye, I know 'im," Trade scowled. "I sailed under Roberts for a time before he let me go for challenging his authority. Ten years of unwaverin' loyalty and this is what I get for simply…. Anyway, would you like to find this rogue of a father of yours?"

I chose my words carefully. "Well, I suppose I should."

"Now, I know his routes, Oribelle, I know where he is at every moment. I could take you to him, easy, with a ship of my own."

"R-really?" I nearly squeaked.

"Yes, really," he said as if talking to a very small child. I scowled again, though he couldn't see me.

"Alright, now."

"The question is, Miss Roberts, what would you be willing to give up?"

My body stilled. "Begging your pardon?"

"You're employed―

I breathed a sigh of relief. That's what he meant.

―and you look to be well-clothed and well-fed. Life on the sea aint easy, girl. You sure you want to be doing this?"

Finding my father meant I would be leaving The Eve, leaving chess, leaving Sir Foxwood, leaving everything I'd come to know, but it was time for me to be selfish. All of my life I'd been serving someone else; when was it my turn to serve myself? Servants were valuable, but Sir Foxwood would be able to replace me easily enough. I liked the friendship we had developed, but the sea was calling to me. Maybe it's the pirate in me; the tide must ebb and flow in my veins. I had to go; I would hate myself forever if I didn't.

"Aye, I am."

"In that case, we'll be leaving in two days, noon. I expect―"

"Two days?" I echoed.

"We've got to catch him on his way to the West Indies…the later we delay, the greater our chances of missing him."

"But…you don't even have a ship!"

"I'll have one by noon in two days," Trade said mysteriously.

I thought I would have more time to…get used to the idea of leaving everything behind, but sacrifices had to be made. I had to know who I was, didn't I?

"Alright," I said hesitantly. "Where do I meet you then, Trade?"

"The wharf. You'll know which ship is mine when you get there. Might have some trouble gettin' you aboard, but we'll make it. You swim any?"

I thought back to the time when one of the stable boys had tried to drown me in the pond behind the stables. I don't know if what I did qualified as swimming, but I was still alive and the stable boy was a bit worse for the wear for a while after that.

"A bit."

"Good enough," Trade nodded at me and pushed away from the bar.

"But wait!" I called after him.

He turned to look at me with one eyebrow arched. "What is it, lass?"

"How…" I trailed off. I didn't even know what I was going to ask him. Everything seemed to be rushing and blending together in a whirlwind of events and names.

Giving a sigh, he walked towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Just bring yourself to the wharf, everything else is taken care of."

As I watched Jack Trade, the self-proclaimed jack of all trades, open the door of the tavern and stride outside, moonlight made a silhouette of his form. The door closed again, and I felt a deep drum roll somewhere inside of me; another chapter of my life finished, and yet another one began.

Sometime after the shock of what had jus happened wore off, I left the tavern and made my way back to The Eve. As I snuck into the room I shared with Lindy, she woke and her voice filtered through the dark.

"Late chess night?" she asked, sleepily.

My heartbeat quickened and my cheeks flushed with a mix of guilt and shame. "Aye."

"Oh," she yawned. "Wish someone would take me away from cleaning all the―"

"Lindy?"

"Huh?"

"I don't feel well, I'm gonna go to sleep."

I'm turning into a regular old liar now.

"Okay," she said through another yawn. "Feel better, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lindy."

In the silence of the night, I debated with myself once more. I'd already told Jack Trade I'd meet him at the wharf; I couldn't just back out now. My feelings about Lucien were already so confused and muddled that leaving would probably do me more good than harm. We were friends, but I felt as if I should stay far away from him now…which made no sense. I felt horrible about planning to leave Lindy and Midge with no explanation, but I had to, I just had to. As I let myself drift into sleep, it crossed my mind that Trade had been a little too agreeable to helping me find my father. In fact, if I remembered correctly, he had been the one to suggest it. Why was Jack Trade so eager to help me find my father? What was in it for him?