Author's Note: Hello and welcome to chapter sixteen of "Rubicon". I would like to thank everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, OllieOfFreeOxen, Faith-Catherine, Astraeas Dreams, sudoku, Tiera-Tarie, ElfLuver13 and anotherblastedromantic. Thanks so much! Your continued support is truly appreciated. I have no beta for this fic, so any grammatical or spelling errors that appear are my fault and my fault alone. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Pirates of the Caribbean.
July 1, 1731
Dearest Diary,
Oh she is beautiful, truly, with her sleek back and long legs and pretty copper coat. I loved her at once. Cutler gifted her to me, a small and strong mare to whisk me about the countryside. And oh, I love my husband.
I have named her Octavia, after a right and good woman. A noble name for a noble beast and a noble beast for a noble lady.
I am giddy with happiness.
Cutler knows this and he is pleased that my pain has lessened. I do not tell him how weary I am though, no that should never do. He would forbid me to even visit Octavia in the stables. I could not abide that.
She is a sweet little thing, too. Gentle with Young Cutler enough to let him tap her on her soft nose. He delights in horses as well, quite like his parents. Often I take him along to the stables with me and he coos and giggles and bounces in my arms. Someday soon he shall be riding, though I hope not too soon. Once children learn how to ride they learn to ride away.
That would be the very death of me.
Octavia makes me forget my worries now and I think less on the thoughts that trouble me. And I think less on the cough that pains me. All is most well.
The days pass quickly now in the Caribbean though the waves seem unchanging. I am changing though, as the child grows within me. My abdomen grows but my arms shrink. I am thin but not yet so. An effect of the consumption I am sure, a most curious and frightening effect.
I have hired no mid-wife this time. After the horrid experience with the moldy old spinster in England, I shan't let one of their kind touch me ever again. Agnes has seen fit to care for me and I wager she has birthed more children than any midwife.
The child is healthy, she says, though the mother ails. I only hope my strength carries me long enough…just long enough…
Rest is imperative though I have found little. This weather is simply wretched and I suffer each night. The very air clings to my skin and Cutler moans and tosses beside me. And when I do sleep, my mind is troubled with dreams.
Oh I would be rid of the dreams now. At first they were a strange curiosity, a fancy that intrigued me from time to time. But not now.
It seems that nary a night passes when the witch does not come to visit me. She has companions now, companions that move about fires as shadows but sometimes I see their faces.
One is a woman, beautiful but hard with a wounded look about her. She does not speak to me nor look at me and I dislike her very much.
The other is Admiral Norrington. I dare not say a word more…I dare not…
I find that the longer I remain trapped in my chamber, the more frequent my dreams become. Perhaps my mind conjures fantasies because my body is so stationary. I tried to go out once yesterday without Cutler and that proved to be a near disaster. Fortunately, he suspects nothing and dear Admiral Norrington came to my aid. Thank the Lord for Admiral Norrington.
As it was, I sensed Octavia had grown weary of her stall just as I had grown weary of my chamber. In secrecy, I ordered the coachman to harness her to the small postchaise Cutler keeps for quick journeys. He did not dare disobey me, for my temper is known and he had Octavia readied in the morning.
I waited until Cutler had left for the day to take my own leave. I had hoped for only a short ride in the countryside, only a short, quiet ride. But oh, I think I should have stayed locked within my chamber.
The coachman took me upon the scenic roads though rarely did he speak. I entertained myself by watching the countryside pass by, the brilliant flowers and great palm trees. We did not pass through Port Royal and by doing so, were restricted to some paths that had fallen into disrepair. My driver was cautious enough to avoid most of the ruts and Octavia minded her pace well.
Throughout the morning we drove past some small little cottages. Not many people did we meet, but few enough to give me a chill. They seemed almost frightened of me and ducked within their doors as soon as they heard the clatter of Octavia's hooves. I did not know what to make of it.
Only once I heard my name whispered, by two young women that stood perched by their garden gate.
"That's Lady Beckett, I'm sure of it," the one said. The other looked quite surprised.
"Lord Beckett's wife? Is he not…"
But I could not hear the rest of what she said though their stares unnerved me. I felt most unwelcome.
By noon I asked the coachman to turn about and return to town. I feared Cutler might think to come home early and find me missing. I did not want to risk his anger, or his fear for that matter. He is simply too fearful these days.
The coachman obliged, turning Octavia around and trotting briskly back into Port Royal. We had not gone halfway though when the right wheel rolled into a rut and snapped. The poor coachman was nearly thrown from his seat and I only managed to sit still by grabbing onto the side of the chaise.
I was most vexed, to say the very least, for we could go no further.
"Should I go into town Lady Beckett?" the coachman asked but I did not want to be left alone for long or delay our progress.
"Was there not a small house just a half a mile back?" I questioned him. He raised a brow and shook his head.
"Yes, my lady, but I doubt they would offer us any help."
"Well go and see, man," I ordered. My frustration rose with every breath. Was the man a fool?
"Aye, Lady Beckett." And he hurried off down the road. I waited by Ocatvia and stroked her nose with my fingers. She was most calm and untroubled by the incident. Such a good and faithful horse is she.
The coachman returned shortly…alone.
"Was there no one home?" I asked. "I thought I saw a young man standing by the window when we passed."
"Aye, my lady," he said and his eyes were downcast. "There was a young man and his wife. But they won't offer as any help. I am sorry. Should I go into town now?"
I could scarce believe his words. Who would not think to help me? I remembered a similar occurrence several years past when Cutler and I were traveling to Harriet's for Christmaside and our coach wheel broke. A kindly peasant family permitted us to spend the night with them until our wheel was repaired. Would this family not do the same?
The situation appeared terribly bleak. I paced along the roadway for a moment and thought of what to do. Should I risk sending the coachman into town alone or should I go with him?
Fortunately, I was spared having to decide when a horseman came cantering down the highway. It was Admiral Norrington, handsome and dashing in his deep blue uniform.
He saw us at once and pulled off to the side of the road with a bemused expression upon his face.
"Oh Admiral!" I gestured hopelessly at the broken wheel. "I am afraid I do not know what to say."
He dismounted, a frown tugging his lips. "My lady, does your husband know of this?"
"No," I said and I quickly told him of what had happened. He nodded when I finished, turning to the coachman.
"Take my horse into town for help. I will stay with Lady Beckett," he said.
The coachman was quick to obey. Up he leapt onto the Admiral's horse, leaving but a cloud of stirred dust in his wake. Admiral Norrington and I stood across from each other for an awkward moment. Then he politely took my arm and led me to a small meadow adjoining the road. Like a true gentlemen, he laid his coat upon the ground and bade me sit.
Thankfully, the dear man did not have to be coaxed into conversation this time. He discussed many light matters, pointing out the pretty little flowers that surrounded us and the birds that perched in the trees.
I much liked the sound of his voice. He is a most knowledgeable man, as it is. For a long while, I let him talk and enjoyed the way he smiled every so often.
Poor man. I do not wish him to stay alone as he is. Surely, there must be some happiness for him?
He fell silent for a space then and I noticed his eyes upon me.
"You look very beautiful, my lady," he said at length.
"Why thank you, sir." I did not think to blush. Perhaps I should have. A strange thought came to my mind then. I turned and faced him with a questioning glance.
"Do you know I have had the strangest dreams of late," I said.
"Dreams, my lady?" He was much taken aback.
"Yes," I continued. "Two women appear to me and one I am sure I have seen before. Her face is familiar in a way. Beautiful, she is, with light hair and light eyes. She is most thin and has high cheekbones stretched beneath her bronze skin. And full lips, yes, very full lips. I wonder who she is."
But Admiral Norrington did not reply. He looked as though I had stricken him with a fatal blow. The dear man bowed his head and paled. I meant to I inquire as to his sudden distress but the coachman returned just then.
Admiral Norrington rose to his feet, kissed my hand and bid me farewell. Without another word he mounted his horse and rode away.
Oh what wickedness comes from my dreams?
The wheel was repaired and we returned home before Cutler knew of my little adventure. I find myself concerned now. Something dark and mysterious is at work here and I must know of it. Cutler keeps some secret, some horrid secret I fear. I will ask it of him soon.
Lady Anne Beckett