Natalia looked out her dressing room window and smiled briefly, recalling Matt's unquenchable cheerfulness, even when talking about his father. It had been 3 years, and they had eventually reached an unspoken agreement not to mention his fate. Their friendship had grown fast, bringing the kind of bond that only law-breaking and danger provides. She knew him, inside and out, and he knew her.
Turning to survey the room, she came face to face with her current problem: the incredibly expensive, incredibly unwanted wedding dress that lay in the chair next to her. Yards and yards of creamy white fabric flowed in all directions, looking like the ghost of Christmas future.
In truth, it was her future, if she stayed in St. Thomas for another 3 hours. She was to be Mrs. James Green, the wife of a fifty-year old minor official of the British government, at exactly seven o'clock. He was the first, and only, man to court Natalia, and it was impossible to tell what was more surprising to the community: the fact that he had made an offer to a "dirty foreign" girl thirty-five years his junior, or that her family accepted. Natalia wasn't surprised be either, however; her father had made it well known for years that she belonged to the first man who made a decent proposal.
Unfortunately for him, however, the ship Saber was leaving at 6:30 bound for Tortuga, and Natalia intended to be on it.
So, she didn't complain when her maids squeezed her into the gown; she let them pin up her hair and giggle picturing her wedding night. In fact, Natalia was the epitome of servility, and when she asked for ten minutes alone to gather herself, the maids took pity on her, sensing that these were her last moments of freedom before being bound to a wheezing, old man until he died.
She waited for the click of the lock, and wasted no more time. It was already six.
She took the pins out of her hair, letting it fall in a cascade that went to her bosom. Dashing over to the far corner of the room, she extracted an old, battered carpetbag from an unused armoire, and ran to the mirror, shedding layers as she went. She got down to her corset, and was fumbling with the knots when she heard,
"Well, can't say I'm not enjoying this view, love."
Without turning around, she gasped, "Help me with this damn thing, Matt, I can't breathe."
A tall, brown-haired boy hopped down off the windowsill, and quickly undid the knots with well-practiced fingers.
"Apparently, you've had some previous experience," Natalia said, burying the hurt that had unexpectedly come up. She had no idea where that feeling had come from.
She could see his half-smile, illuminating his green eyes, in the mirror at that jab. The corset slid off.
"I'll take that as a compliment on my charm," he said, turning around to give her some privacy to change into breeches. She grabbed a crudely made half corset from the carpet bag, and with Matt's help, belted down her ever-expanding bosom.
"Jesus, Nat, this is hard. You're gonna have to get a bigger corset soon."
"Just shut up and pull. I don't want anything slipping like it did that one time at the Mermaid. If that happens on a boat full of men…"
"Alright, alright, when are you gonna let that one go?" he asked.
"I'd imagine it'll be awhile," she said, slipping on her tunic and belting on her pistol and taking her cutlass in her hand. She moved to the window, gathered her hair, and with only the slightest hesitation, cut it, and watched it float away on the breeze. Slipping off her engagement ring, she put it in her pocket, and grabbed some of her wedding jewelry, and threw it in her bag. She jammed a tri-cornered hat on her head, and spun around to present herself. The entire operation had only taken six minutes.
"Do I pass?"
"You look like a very girly boy."
"Tell people I'm a eunuch."
"Well, ok, but they're gonna wonder about me."
"Well, you've got the goods to prove you're not. So. Let's go." And with that, she hopped out the window, Matt close behind, with a grin on his face.