From an obscene and sweaty entanglement of slick limbs and naked flesh came a small gasp. The whore had noticed the door to the coach was open, and I was staring in disbelief and disgust. My mind sputtered in useless interpretation as I stood there slack jawed. Several seconds must have passed before the man even began to slow at his conquest. And by then I had already turned on my heel and taken after John. Despite my panic and unwillingness to completely process what I had just witnessed, I caught my brother's stride in the tall grass.
He looked at me with concern. "What is it, Wendy?"
"The carriage is not empty," I breathed slowly. My legs burned from tearing across the meadow with such fervor. John reached out to steady me as I stooped to catch my breath. The expression in his eyes was unreadable.
"Do you mean to tell me Miguel is inside? Is he alive, how could he have failed to hear my calls?" John murmured half to himself, looking back to the road. He pulled the cap from my head, allowing my hair to fall down around my shoulders and even past. I sat myself down in the grass and voluntarily fell back, laying stretched out in the open field.
"He seemed very much alive when I saw him," I mumbled into the night sky.
John assured me that everything would be fine. He asked me to stay put and catch my breath, he would check on his partner. I did not explain the reason for my shock and he made no further inquiries. So he left me sprawled out, gazing up at all of the stars. In my right hand I held the knit cap clutched tight, and my right foot was resting against the burlap sack that John had left to my temporary care.
The stars were so different away from the clutter and disorienting lights of the city. They seemed so spectacular that night, not trivial. Naked and brilliant, they pierced something within me, and I felt my quick laboring breath dying away in the face of all their glory. It was as exhilirating as anything I could ever imagine, laying there so defenseless and so still like that. My mind left the events at hand easily.
Suddenly I was not shocked nor horrified that I had happened upon John's business partner enjoying the company of a prostitute. In fact, the idea began to strike me as something rather hilarious in nature. So I lifted my voice to the watching stars in short low laughter. But what began as quiet chuckling soon errupted into full force snorts and giggles. The thought that John might find me in such a state certainly crossed my mind, but it seemed so unimportant. There I lie in that clearing gazing up and shuddering head to toe in convulsions of joy.
I am not sure if I laughed for the awkward circumstance, or my complete elation at finally seeing the sky with my own eyes again. For you see, I remembered only one other time when I had looked at the stars with such wonder. A quiet spring night when my brothers and I followed a ruddy boy out of our nursery window and into the clear skies of London, all some seven years passed. The memory always held some kind of dull sting, those feelings of weightlessness would never return.
My private thoughts sort of died away as I came back to my other senses. I heard John shouting far off, probably at Miguel. I smiled to myself, leave it to my brother to pick a lusty Spaniard for a partner. Without much resistance from my tired limbs I raised myself out of the grass and started towards the crossroads. The night was growing ever darker and if we hoped to have at least some rest before setting sail, we would have to make headway towards Bristol. I lugged the knapsack and brown cap behind me.
As I approached the two men I noticed how much taller John was than this Miguel fellow. I mused to myself that if this disgraceful meeting should end in any sort of fight, my brother would certainly emerge victorious. However, their talk seemed more peaceful now, John was even laughing as the other man sort of explained himself and the blonde prostitute who gazed distractedly in my direction. I avoided her eyes, afraid she might see something about me I did not want her to know.
John and Miguel continued to chuckle softly, as I shrunk under the gaze of the blonde. She sort of swayed side to side and the low light emitting from the carriage cast her shadow over my form. I noticed the color of her lips, their candy shimmer. I wasn't sure what made me more uneasy, they way she beheld me or the way I wanted to look at her. Not ten minutes ago I had seen her body completely exposed and vulnerable. And I wondered what it might be like to look again, this time without rush or surprise. My cheeks burned red.
"Wendy, come here," John's voice startled me. I raised my eyes as I stepped out of the whore's shadow.
I lingered closely to my brother's side, assessing his new partner critically. Though shorter than John, he was by no means a small man. Rough and stocky with raven hair and sparkling dark eyes his physical appearance was oddly pleasing. He had a sly sort of grin, and he watched me with gentle interest. Instead of displaying any of the shyness I had towards the girl I looked the cocky businessman directly in the eyes, searching him out.
"Miguel, this is my dear elder sister Wendy Moira Angela Darling," John spoke evenly. He rested a protective hand upon my shoulder and pulled me in closer. "Wendy, this is my partner in investment and business venture, Miguel Laughlin."
"I must confess, Ms Darling, your brother failed to mention how charming you are." The raven haired gentleman, took my hand into his own and placed a small kiss there. I smiled thinly and raised my brown in cold assessment. I had learned something about men like this one long ago, never give a moment's impression that you are taken in by their candied words. In a poignant display of boldness, I shifted my gaze directly to the prostitute.
Miguel and John followed my eyes, and my brother tightened his grip upon my shoulder in frustration. I would not be denied my explanations. The girl stepped up closer and threw back her shoulders with pride. I avoided her eyes, I could not have kept up the display if I were forced to behold the ice in those eyes. Miguel cleared his throat as he gently released my hand and motioned her closer.
"John, Ms Darling, this is my sweet Cecilia. She was born in Veracruz, Mexico and will act as a guide on our independent navigation of the West Indies. She knows those islands as well as any British navy man or pirate." Miguel smiled widely as he beheld the woman. I saw some sort of pride steal across his expression, as if he truly found her impressive and wonderful.
Cecilia extended her hand to me first, all but completely ignoring John. Her eyes were dark, I thought faintly. My attention was rushing everywhere and my mind could not stay still as I watched her. I knew she had sensed my discomfort immediately, there was no use in trying to hide anything from her gaze.
The moment could not have been more than several seconds, but they passed so slowly for me. As I took her hand I had the odd sensation that something completely unnoticed by the men was passing between us. She smiled at me very slowly and bowed her dainty head. Our moment of agreement was over, I had seen her completely exposed, and in her own way she had seen me in very much the same way.
With all pleasantries completed I was ushered into the carriage, the burlap sack placed securely into my lap. Miguel took his place in the driver's seat with John by his side. Cecilia and silently ushered me into the carriage. She placed a sweet smelling shawl about my shoulders as the coach begin to slowly roll out of the clearing and on to Bristol. We had four hours until we reached our destination, so I closed my eyes and settled for sleep that would not come.
I sat with my eyes closed for at least an hour before I lost the will to continue pretending. As my eyes slowly fluttered open, I noticed that Cecilia was staring directly at me. I blushed and pulled the soft shawl around my form. The coach had grown increasingly cool as we raced on through the countryside and into the night. John and Miguel's dull murmuring had died off long ago, and only the jouncing and cracking of the carriage punctuated the silence.
The light in the carriage was just enough that I could see the contours of her face. She was young, and more than that beyond the painted lips and strong eyes she was perfectly beautiful. She smiled subtly, as if hearing my thoughts. Yet I made no attempt to change what was running through my mind. She could see it anyway.
She parted her lips, in a full smile, displaying perfect long teeth. I matched her smile, as she moved across the carriage to sit beside me. I could smell the sweet sweat on her mixed with some sort of lilac perfume. Her hair, falling loose of it's plaits brushed me gently across the left cheek.
"What are you so afraid of, Wendy Darling?" she spoke suddenly. Her voice was as thick and rich as I had imagined it might be. Her hand quickly found mine and she pulled me closer. Instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed I felt alive. Her skin was cool and smooth as it moved across my own.
"Everything," I breathed quietly. As she put her slender arm around me I let my head fall onto her soft shoulder. And after so many nights of laying awake beneath my sheets, I succumbed to long overdue slumber. As I drifted away from the reality I felt Cecilia's lips brushing across my forehead...