Chapter II – Leaving Port

Her necklace felt cool against her collar, her even cooler hand pressed against the black pearl.  She was looking out to the horizon, the ship they were to board rising and falling gently in the waves.  It was astounding how something as simple as water could lift a massive ship so effortlessly.  The sails flapped gently in the warm breeze as waves crashed against rocks down below.  Seagulls cawed and called, swooping about overhead.

She shut her eyes and clenched the pearl in her hand.  Never did she think that she would see the sea again.

Never say never.  That brought a tear to her eye.  She didn't return to the water, wasn't allowed to go near it, after what happened to her friend.  Her mother had been destroyed; everyone who knew the Heartwells', and even people who did not, offered their services.

But it was too late.  Jennifer had been kidnapped by pirates, raped and thrown overboard.  It was a fate too horrible for anyone, let alone a child.  The town had been crushed, ashamed that a child had suffered so horribly.

And Rachelle had felt alone, isolated and empty ever since she got the news.  No longer could she hope that one day she would see her friend again.  That suddenly she would appear with all sorts of wild stories, regaling everyone with her adventures.  But along with that came the guilt every friend would feel.  If she had only stopped Jennifer from leaving, if she had only kept her there another day, her life could have been spared.

She brushed away a tear, willing herself to set her mind on more pleasant things.

"Ah, it is not the last time you will see England, daughter."

Looking up at her father, she gave him a weak, watery smile.  "I know, father."  She let him think that she was crying for her home, that she was becoming homesick already.  Standing resolutely, gathering her skirts about herself primly, her mind cleared.  Well, if Jennifer could not complete her adventures, she'd have to do them for her.

What were best friends for, after all?  Not even death could separate them, when they remembered.

Her father was still talking.

"There's a good love.  I was sure that the mention of your future husband would instil some strength in you."  He returned the weak smile.

"But father, the governor's daughter was supposed to marry him, was she not?"

His face went a slight, splotchy red.  "Well, she decided that a blacksmith was more of her station."  Lip curling, he snorted impolitely.  "Really, how the governor allowed the marriage is beyond our comprehension."

"But were they not in love?" she asked sweetly, a slight dreamy quality in her expression.

Lord Clairington gave his daughter a sympathetic gaze.  "Love, daughter, has nothing to do with marriage.  I am sure with time you will learn to love the Commodore."

"Of course, father," she said obediently, smoothing down her skirts, looking down.  Then her eyes rose to her father's.  "But are all these infantry really necessary?"

His eyes hardened almost cruelly.  "Pirates are a danger.  Surely you have not forgotten what happened to your friend."

Shutting her eyes, she whispered, "Sometimes I wish I could, father."

"Then you know perfectly well that the soldiers are a necessity.  We do not want pirates to get to you.  We have all learned our lesson, I must say, and unfortunately, it was in the worst way."

The sounds of perfect marching were beginning to grate on Rachelle's nerves.  There was a crisp stomp behind her, letting her know that men had arrived to escort her onto the ship.

"Remember, you are a Clairington."

She nodded, understanding every implication in that simple sentence.  Kissing her father chastely in farewell, the men then led her onto the ship, in perfect formation.  Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, wishing at least one of them would stumble to cease the uniform racket, she was shocked when one did just that.  The troops stopped walking, allowing their comrade to get back into form.

With a sigh, she boarded the ship, hoping that her adventure would be more entertaining than perfect lockstep.

Rachelle gazed around the ship.  It was much bigger than she would have first thought.  The sails were, although up, not ready.  But a call to deck and there was a flourish of activity, the sails being raised to their proper positions.

"Come with us, Miss," one of the soldiers said clearly.

"Can I not stay here?  It seems ever so exciting."

"You must go down into your room, Miss."

She frowned at him, but allowed the men to take her to her quarters, a relatively large cabin.  There was a nice bed in the corner, with a table and chair nailed to the floor.  There was also a wardrobe, also nailed down.  Her possessions were brought in and put to the side, eight crates in all.

Heading over she checked on her things, making sure it was all there and in perfect condition.  She heard the click of heels and marching out of her room.  Then she slammed the door shut, to drown them all out.  That was extraordinarily annoying.

Taking her parasols out of one of the crates, she laid them out on her bed and examined them carefully.  She chose her almost white pink-peach parasol, which matched her dress perfectly.  The lace around the edges was nearly the same as the lace on her skirts, giving her a complete look.  Resting it on her shoulder, careful not to muss up her ringlets of red hair, she went daintily over to the mirror.  As usual, she was pale and her makeup was flawless.  The parasol would help keep the sun off her because she did want to see what running a ship was like.

When she was sure that the corridor was clear, she opened the door, wincing when it creaked.  Peering out into the darkness, she noticed a shaft of light coming from the stairs metres off.  A few lanterns, although unlit, hung every few feet.  Perhaps they were lit at night.  Taking a few tentative steps out into the corridor, she carefully made her way to the stairs.  She could hear the sea crashing and people talking.  Everything was running smoothly, so she figured that no one could object to her taking a walk.  They really could not expect a lady of her age to stay cooped up all day when there was so much excitement, so many new things for her to experience, could they?

Taking the steps one by one, she made it to the deck and looked around.  Immediately there were the two troops on either side of her, making her jump.

"Johnson, Christopher!  You men are extremely quick," she said, sounding stern as she held her hand over her heart. 

They nodded sharply and accompanied her as she strolled about the deck, twirling her parasol idly.  

Why did she need them on the ship?  Surely there was nothing to get her there?

"Sirs, I do hope you realise that pirates are not going to materialise on the ship.  I am quite sure that if we are attacked, you will have more than adequate time to leave your stations and protect me."

They stopped in mid step and stared vacantly at her, mouths gaping, definitely not used to women addressing them so sharply and intelligently.

She cleared her throat delicately.  "Well, I am only stating the obvious fact that pirates are not going to drop out of the sky.  You will have time to protect me."

Both men looked up at the sky, now worried about another means of onslaught.  The sky, they hadn't even considered that.

Rolling her eyes as she shook her head, she didn't want to bother trying to further explain the fact that they were fine.  It just took too much energy.

~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***~~~***

Hey hey!  (this is a message from Sukkumbus)  How are ya liking the story?  Mika(2) and I are working our brains out.  I'm just about DEAD from writing all this . . . you guys should see what we have in store!  Man, there are some really funny parts later on.  *giggles*  hehehe . . .

Anyway, I know there isn't that much to review so far, and Gods, where Mika(2) and I are, the main plot is just beginning, so there won't be major plot for you to review for awhile . . . but still, do you think you guys could drop of some reviews?  I mean, look at all those other stories with bloody hundreds of reviews – I think we deserve a few (and yes, this story actually has a plot!  *gasp*)

Thanks bunches,

Toodles,

Sukkumbus (and toodles from Mika[2], too).

(PS: I actually try and use proper terminology for the parts of the ship through the story, so if you find any words you don't understand or something, just ask and I'll explain, k?  We've actually done some studying on ships to get things as accurate as possible for a fanfic . . .)