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Chapter Five
Midnight Rendezvous
in which a warning is given
Stephen didn't read the note that came with his breakfast the next morning. He couldn't bring himself to burn it either, although his hand wavered dangerously close to his solitary candle. Part of him said that he was behaving like a child. The other part wanted only to indulge in this directionless fury and hate Coraline Jacqueline Turner without regret.
The truth was that it wasn't hate. It was some darker form of love. He knew it was because when he finally made his way to the deck and saw her speaking with Anamaria his heart ached for them to be back aboard the Surprise, when what they felt for each other seemed so much simpler.
Stephen Maturin, I want you, and it is the simplest thing in our world right now. Tell me that you don't feel the same.
It was the closest they'd ever come to admitting their love for each other.
When she turned to look at him, Stephen could only walk away. The tables had turned on them- their situation was so much simpler than before, now that Cora's mother was dead and she was a free woman, but their feelings had been changed drastically.
He'd seen Diana Villiers only a few times in the last seven years. He'd heard of her all too often- another country, another lover, how far could a woman fall? But just before he left on the Renown he'd come too close to her for comfort.
It was late in the grey London day. Stephen had passed on dinner in favor of completing his letter to Sir Joseph Blaine- regretfully, he had not found the beetles he was seeking -and ensuring that his sea chest was complete. He was going to catch a chaise to Ashgrove as soon as he was done. When he heard the knock at the door he'd assumed it was his landlady coming to try and force some sturgeon down his throat once more and his face was appropriately screwed up in annoyance. It slackened in disbelief when he saw who really stood before him.
"Don't leave me standing out here, Maturin," Diana Villiers said. "I'm cold enough as it is."
"I'm afraid I wasn't expecting company, Villiers. I am on the wing. I have no fire."
"You have time for an old friend, haven't you?"
Friend was an interesting term to apply. Jilted lover and betrayed fiance were phrases that came to mind. Stephen stood aside to let her in.
She had grown older of course. He hadn't expected the age to show, but it did. She'd clearly remained in the tropics; her complexion was no better than before, and in the pale light of England it didn't glow as it had in Bombay. She wore more rouge to try and hide it. Her dress was simple and warm, and her black hair swept up against the back of her head to reveal the neck that had always enticed him so.
"Is this where you live when you aren't off running about with Aubrey? It is exactly as I expected. It suits you, Maturin."
"Must I take that as a compliment?"
"Yes, or I shall change it into an insult. No, don't bother with tea," She said, stopping him in his preparations. "If you are on the wing then so am I." Almost in contradiction to this statement, she found herself a seat before the dead fireplace. Stephen joined her after hesitating.
"Why have you come, Villiers?"
"I am in-between keepers once again," She tried to say it with a smile but it never reached her eyes. "And I thought to give you another chance."
Stephen sat in stony silence, words of anger rising in his mind and then dissipating before he could utter them.
"Don't stare at me like that. It's past time for both of us, Maturin. I'm done gallivanting the world like a trumped up whore. Come, even Aubrey is married now. Let us seal this whole miserable business and be done with it." She was curiously close to begging, closer than he'd ever seen. It did more to harden his heart than to soften it.
Even now he could scarcely remember what he'd thought upon hearing those words. There was a time when he would have given anything to hear them from her- a time when he'd killed a good man that she might be his. But now... he felt hesitant, and a pair of grey-blue eyes he'd tried to hard to forget was rising in his mind.
No parting is forever.
"I must leave soon. I'm going to the Caribbean with Jack and Tom Pullings." He said, his lips pressed tight together. "It's my turn to leave you hanging now, Villiers. Stay in England, stay here if you have nowhere else to go, and you shall have my answer when I return."
He saw her wish to protest flash through her eyes, but she lowered them and subdued it before their eyes met again.
"Fair enough, Maturin. I suppose I should begin to compose myself for months of waiting on you in any case. I hope I don't turn into a sentimental wreck like Sophie does, writing letters every day and counting down the days."
"Remember, I have not given you an answer." Stephen cautioned as he led her to the door.
Diana stood on the landing outside his room and watched him for a moment before she stood up on her toes to kiss him on the mouth. He couldn't bring himself to respond to the light touch before she pulled away.
"I have always loved you, Maturin, after my own fashion." With that, she was gone.
He hadn't given her proposal much thought after they left, adopting Jack's tendency to leave the problems of land on land and lose himself in the immediacy of the sea. Now it came to haunt him. Diana would never make such an offer again; were he to refuse her and Cora to refuse him in turn, he doubted he could ever find a woman to inspire a passion equal to what they had inspired in him. Did he jump out of the frying pan and into the fire if he said no?
He spent the day avoiding company when possible, until at the very end of it he felt his own musings had gotten him nowhere. He went to where Jack was berthed only to find it empty. On deck once more, he found one of the sailors who'd helped he and Dominic come down off the mainmast the day before and asked him if he'd seen the Navy captain.
"Well, sir," He responded awkwardly. "I believe he's at dinner with Captain Turner and the rest of them."
The feeling Stephen had set out in search of was his now; he felt empty of all his thoughts as he went to the taffrail and sat down, watching the sunset stain the water in varying shades of blood before succumbing to night at last. Laughter drifted from the great cabin. The sailors gathered on deck for more games and dance. Stephen continued to enjoy his feeling of blissful remove from the world, and was even contemplating sleep when he noticed the first white flicker in the darkness.
"Does anyone have a glass?" He called. A sailor sitting on the steps leading to the quarterdeck playing a drum paused and tossed one to him. He caught it and trained it on the white spot he'd noticed. It was indeed a sail.
"Did the sawbones see something?" A sailor called.
"There is a ship behind- abaft us. Someone call- pass the word for the captain."
The captain was called and moments later she, Anamaria, Gibbs, Jack and Dominic stood at his side with their own glasses out.
"Good eyes, Stephen. I never would've suspected it of you," was Jack's only remark.
"She'll have the weather-gauge, whoever she is," Anamaria sighed. "Orders, Captain?"
Cora hesitated to answer, then said at last, "Reef in our sails and slow us down. I want to see who she is before we run or turn and fight."
"You're going to let her catch us up?"
"Those were my orders."
"Aye, Captain."
Gibbs turned to carry out the orders and Cora remained where she was.
"Do you remember what to do if there is a battle, Dominic?" She asked quietly.
"Hide in the big locker in your cabin and don't come out until you or Gibbs or Anamaria comes for me." He recited.
"That's my lad," She said, putting one arm around him and keeping the other on her spyglass.
The chase progressed more quickly than most others. Cora altered the trim of the sails several times, keeping the Deliverance more or less in the same space of water while the other ship grew steadily larger. It was grossly smaller than they were- a sloop of perhaps the old Sophie's size -and the mood on deck was relaxed.
Two hours after they first sighted her, Cora opened her glass once more to observe the ship. Her face broke out into a wide grin when she lowered it.
"Hard a'larboard. Bring her in a circle so we're parallel, but maintain our distance. For now, of course."
The orders were given and the Deliverance turned in a smooth arc until she was directly parallel to the other ship, which was about two miles distant from their starboard rail.
"Give me the helm. I'll bring us in closer." Cora said, dismissing the sailor who'd been steering.
They beat and tacked their way closer, closer, but the ship didn't fire. As the other sailors got a look at her, they too began to smile. No one would say why, though, and Jack and Stephen were left feeling in the dark. Then at last they were within range.
"Gun crew one, to the bow chaser with the captain excepted. I'll do the honors."
Several sailors went to the gun in question. Cora turned the helm over to Jack- "Just keep her steady as she is," -and followed them. The gun loaded and primed, Cora aimed it carefully for the ship off their starboard bow. She lay almost on top of the cool metal, her eye level with the nozzle. After several breathless minutes of aiming and adjusting, she fired on the upward roll.
Every eye followed the shot eagerly and watched as it shot away the left breast of the ship's rather voluptuous nude figurehead.
"Bring us in closer, Captain Aubrey." Cora called, grinning. "I believe there is a message for us."
The other ship drew closer at the same they did, and when they were within shouting distance both crews crowded to the rails to laugh and point and jeer. One man, in ornate dress with a large hat, leapt up onto the railing and took hold of the rigging.
"Cora Turner, ye wee bitch, drop your anchor and answer for what you've done to my poor Molly!" He shouted. Stephen was jarred by the lilt in his voice; he was in the Caribbean, not home in Ireland, and it took him a moment to bring the two realities together.
"As you wish, Captain!" Cora called. She was laughing to herself when she moved away from the bow chaser and gave the orders to raise canvas and drop the anchor. "Oh, and Gibbs, put a studdings'l over the side for the men to swim in. Everyone has the night off."
There were raucous cheers at this and the orders were carried out in double-quick time.
"What ship is this?" Jack asked as Cora came back to the quarterdeck.
"The Unlucky Limerick," She replied, her grin still in place. "Her captain is an old friend of mine. A very old friend."
You have time for an old friend, haven't you?
"Would you like to come over with me and meet him?" Cora asked, drawing Stephen back into the present. "It's sure to be a lively party."
"I'd be delighted, so long as we can bring that bottle of burgundy with us. The finest stuff I've ever had, I declare!" Jack laughed, catching the infectious joy of the ship.
"I should like to come, assuming that invitation was directed to me as well." Stephen said, his words frosty.
For just a moment Cora's joyous face faded and the sorrow that normally surrounded her closed in once more. Then Jack intervened.
"Oh come now, Stephen, don't be a scrub. You've been lurking below decks like a stowaway all day and I say it's time for you to come along with us and have a good time. We won't take no for an answer, will we Captain Turner?"
"Indeed we will not." Cora smiled slowly. "Come, Stephen. I have a feeling you'll like Finn."
So it was that he got into the barge with them and went over to the Limerick, where a very disgruntled man was waiting for them. He was tall and broad shouldered, nearly as imposing as Jack but trimmer, and younger too. His face was lined, scarred and tanned; his nose had been broken more than once. There was something boyish about him, despite his angry scowl.
"What in hell did ye do that for, Cora?" He asked when they stepped on the deck. "My poor Molly has but one breast now!"
"I've only made her an Amazon, Finn." Cora said mildly. "Surely she'll fight all the better for it."
Finn tried to keep up his furious mask, but it wasn't to last. The skin around his hazel eyes began to crinkle and then he swept Cora up in his arms and twirled her around a few times before putting her down and giving her a hug that seemed designed to strangle her. Stephen noted with faint displeasure that she didn't hesitate to return the embrace.
"My God, lass, it's been too long! Where's that lad of yours? Dominic, ye haven't forgotten your old Uncle Finn like your twice cursed mother has, have ye?"
"She isn't cursed, Uncle Finn!" Dominic laughed as Finn released Cora and swept him up instead.
"And who have you brought with ye?" Finn asked when they'd calmed.
"Allow me to introduce Jack Aubrey and Stephen Maturin." Cora said, stepping aside to let Finn get a better look.
"Pleasure, gentlemen. Finn Walsh, the captain of this sloop. Would ye care to come in for a drink? I believe we haven't finished all of the pale ale in this ship."
"Pale ale, Finn? Good God, what sort of goods have you been running to get money like that?" She held up her hand when he started to speak. "Never mind. What I don't know can't come and bite me in the arse later."
"No, but it might up and decide to give it a squeeze anyway." Finn smiled lewdly. Understandably, Cora insisted that he walked ahead of her as they walked to his cabin.
As they sat, it occurred to Stephen that he'd never seen Cora in spirits before. He'd seen her on a heady mix of wine and rum once, but it was much different. Now she roared with laughter at the limericks Finn coined for them as loudly as Jack did (his ship was aptly named; the protagonists never fared well, although their ends were humorous) and helped herself to the ale with abandon. Finn wouldn't allow Stephen to sit out of the fun, and frequently forced him to take some of the drink too.
"Clearly Maturin here isn't impressed with my clever tongue," He said in a lull that followed. "What would tickle your fancy?"
"An anecdote." Stephen said. "Cora said that you are a very old friend of hers, and so you must know much more than any of us about her."
"Aye, that is more than likely true." Finn drained his tankard, belched, then sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table. After a moment he sat up. "I know just the one to tell."
"Finn," Cora warned, her voice rising slightly.
"Now, now, Cora, this is my ship and you have no right to tell me not to tell this story." He cleared his throat and began.
"This was in '98, when Cora was eighteen and I wasn't much older. We'd known each other on and off for the last few years. Our ships happened to dock at Tortuga at the same time and we met up in the Faithful Bride, the best known tavern in all the Spanish Main.
"Well, we started drinking, because that's what you do in the Faithful Bride. Cora wasn't one for liquor at the time, at least not for liquor's sake. But, with my sweet charms and silver tongue, I soon had her downing a mug a minute."
"Oh, bollocks!" Cora cried. "You switched my glass of water for the first three and then you dared me on all the rest!"
"Like I said, sweet charms and silver tongue. I charmed you away from noticing the switch and convinced your honor to keep going afterwards."
Cora looked like she had to fight the urge to strangle Finn.
"Before this drunken fool decides to change the story even more, I'll finish it. I got rip-roaring drunk, threw all three sheets to the wind, and started a brawl in the Faithful Bride that soon consumed all of Tortuga. I'm not proud of it, but it's what happened."
Jack chuckled a bit at this, but no one else did.
"Cora, ye spoiled the story. It's not entertaining the way you tell it."
"Perhaps because I never found it entertaining, Finn."
"Well, I do have another story I think we all ought to know." He said afterwards. "D'ye remember the Judas, Cora? And the Bloody Cutlass?"
Cora's forehead creased in thought for a moment, and then she nodded. "Yes. They were powerful pirates that sailed these waters when my family had to go into hiding. We pushed them out once we made our comeback in '98, but couldn't sink them. They returned here not long ago." She said to Jack and Stephen.
"Aye, and I'd imagine they're just as powerful now that they've joined Davy Jones at the bottom of the sea." Finn said grimly.
"What?" Cora asked, agape. "Who sunk them?"
"The Fraternité." Finn's voice was low now.
"The French privateer?" Jack asked, his eyes narrowing.
"The same, I believe. Her captain is some aristocratic bastard who has a blood feud with every pirate in the Spanish Main."
"She sank the Judas and the Cutlass?" Cora asked softly, disbelieving.
"Within days of each other, and without a single spar set off kilter."
Silence stretched between them.
"I don't understand, Finn," Cora said. "Why are you telling us this?"
"I'm telling you this because he's still in these waters. Just be careful, lass. It'd kill me if something happened to you or the boy."
"I'm not worried. The Judas and the Cutlass were infamous pirates. The Deliverance is a respectable ship, and unless this aristocratic bastard has heard of my family's there's no way he could connect her- or me -with piracy."
"Unless someone betrays you."
Cora stiffened but said nothing.
"Like I said, lass," Finn sighed. "Be careful."
Another silence stretched out in the stifling heat of the small cabin. Jack seemed to think that more ale would make it go away, while Cora sat quietly staring at nothing.
"Forgive me," Stephen said, rising. "But I think I shall take the air on deck. I will see you back on the Deliverance."
"Let me come with you. I could do with a mouthful or two of clean air myself." Finn said, following him out the door.
Stephen's hackles were up as the other Irishman followed him in his search for a quiet space of the deck to claim for his own. They eased when they did find one and a breeze finally thought to stir the thick summer air, and they disappeared entirely when Finn stood beside him without saying anything, content to have a bit of peace himself.
Of course, he hit him with a full broadside when he was done with peace.
"So, I'll bet you're the man we heard so much about. Dominic's father."
"...yes."
"It's good to meet you at last. It drove me mad wanting to know who could drive her so mad. Ye should've seen her just after you left, when she was pregnant. She's never been a very happy girl, but I thought she might never be happy again when I saw her in Port Royal the spring of 1806." He stretched languorously, never realizing how tense he'd just made the man beside him.
"She's a good girl, Cora." He continued with a soft sigh followed by a chuckle. "To tell you the truth, boy-o, I always thought I'd be the one to marry her."
Stephen stiffened and turned to face him for the first time.
"We aren't married, Mr. Walsh."
"I know," He smiled, leaning on the railing and looking out over the dark water. "I know."
All at once Finn was placed in Stephen's mind- Finn Walsh, the boy who gave Cora her first kiss, the boy she took twelve lashes for, the boy she'd never been able to love. Stunned, Stephen barely took his leave of him before he found a group of sailors from the Deliverance just climbing into a longboat to head back to their ship, having enjoyed a game of cards with the crew of the Limerick. He joined them and waited for a while on the other side to see if the others would come over soon. They didn't.
He slept lightly, woken easily by the slightest shifts in the ship and the noises around him. He was just dangling over the cliff of full unconsciousness and wishing for his laudanum when he heard the hull resound with three sharp knocks.
He sat up and listened to see if the deck above him came alive with the noise, but nothing happened. A few moments later three more knocks resounded, a little closer to him. They sounded like they were coming from outside the ship. Hardly bothering to dress, he went on deck to see what had happened. What he saw when he looked over the railing was hardly what he'd expected.
"Are you quite alright, Cora?"
"I didn't feel like taking the barge back." She smiled up at him from the water, fully clothed. "It's nice to hear your voice again. You've been so quiet all day."
"I apologize." He said at last. "Was it you that knocked on the hull moments ago?"
She nodded. "Will you come down to me? The barge is still here. You don't have to get in."
"Very well."
Then he was sitting on the barge beside her, his breeches rolled up so that he could leave his feet in the blood-warm water. She dove down to swim and meet him and he watched her move like a ghost through it. The studdingsail she'd ordered put over the side billowed lazily beneath her, a surreal backdrop as she came up from the water and took a breath. He almost wished he'd stayed on the Deliverance, because from the railing it was so much easier to pretend he didn't notice how her linen top clung to every part of her body and that her dark hair was let down.
"Did you read the note I sent with your breakfast?" She asked when she was beside him at last. He shook his head. "Stephen, I understand that you're angry with me. I understand that I hurt you deeply, but I need to know that you won't be angry forever. We only have two weeks, Stephen. Two weeks. There's no time for anger."
Stephen took a deep breath and looked at his hands. Her own were on the barge beside him, keeping her steady. It was hard not to take one and hold it.
"I am angry that you kept a secret of this magnitude from me for seven years. I'm not certain that I can say I forgive you- not yet at least. But I can say that I understand the reasons for your actions and I don't expect you to apologize for them."
She closed her eyes for a moment, and then smiled.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." He felt himself begin to smile too. She began to pull herself up onto the barge- he held out a hand to steady her and another to keep himself from falling in. Soon enough she sat beside him, her feet remaining in the water close to his.
"I love seeing the two of you sitting together, bent over your books." She said after a moment when her breathing had slowed. "Although for all love I have no idea what you're talking about."
They both smiled a little wider. Then Cora's smile dimmed, and she looked away. A curtain of dark, wet hair fell on one side of her face; the other was lit by the lanterns on the ship above them.
"And if that's all you can give to us right now, I'll take it. I'll take it gladly."
Stephen waited again to speak, and made sure she met his eyes when he did.
"I asked you once if your course was to deceive me, and you said you hadn't got your course yet, but once you did I'd be the first to know. I tell you now, Cora, that I don't know how much I have inside of me to give. But when I do, you'll be the first to know."
Her smile returned.
"I'll hold you to that."
"By all means, do. Good night, Cora."
"Good night, Stephen."
He climbed back over the side of the Deliverance and was just about to return to the orlop when he heard a soft splash. He turned and saw Cora slide into the sea like a selkie returning home. He watched her drift on her back, utterly at peace, and his mind was still full of the image when he drifted back down to his hammock and found his own peace at last.
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A/N-- Aww, no more angst! But of course, a sort of happy ending means I have to be up to something dastardly in the next chapter. I wonder what it is. Guess you'll find out soon! Thanks to silverwolf of the night and Oriana8 for their reviews.
