Redemption: Chapter Five
Wendy watched silently as her old enemy straightened and backed away from her, so that he was now standing several feet away. From this position, the young woman was given a chance to truly observe him in all his glory. Before, when he had first entered the parlor, her eyes had been blinded by the initial shock of the bizarre situation. But now since she had returned to her senses, her eyes withheld no detail.
The Captain was admittedly breathtaking in his midnight blue dress coat and comfortable black and grey breeches. He was exactly how Wendy remembered him, from the golden earring in his left ear, to his beautiful raven mass of hair and intense blue forget-me-not eyes. Even the smirk that currently covered his lips was the same. And despite Wendy's past with the villainous pirate, the wary storyteller couldn't help but be momentarily entranced by his attractive appearance and majestic stature.
James stood still as he felt Wendy's eyes appraise him, and was privately pleased that he had taken the time to don his old attire. Besides, relishing in the familiar feeling of silk and expensive embroidery - complements of Mr. Smee's handy work with a needle- the man had dressed to the nines to tease the young woman's memory and put her on her guard. Which would make her only that much more fun to toy with.
But after she had studied him for several minutes, Wendy surprisingly dropped her guard and let her eyes slide closed, unknowingly and yet almost willingly giving the pirate the chance to plunge his hook into her if he saw fit. Which, luckily he had no intention of doing. It would be an unforgivable crime to mar such delicate looking skin.
No, instead of stabbing her, James Gray stood by silently and let the storyteller have her moment of interrupted thought. After all, he wasn't one to rush the natural course of things, especially when he knew that his patience would soon enough be rewarded.
A marriage contract? . . . To her childhood nemesis?
. . . . Marrying. . .
Becoming a man's wife . . .
But that wasn't the worst part. . . The worst part was that it was a marriage contract to . . . Captain Hook?
When Hook had first said such a treacherous thing, Wendy had thought he was lying, or just trying to manipulate her like he had in Neverland. But now, as she had time to let the news sink in, the young woman felt as if the world was crashing around her weary shoulders, and that she would physically burst from the onslaught of emotions that were currently fighting for supremacy.
How could her father have agreed to such a thing? How could her mother have supported such a distasteful idea? Did her brothers know about this? Had her parents let them in on their plans and excluded her? How could they both have given her away like one would a second hand piece of furniture that was no long called for? She was their daughter!
Perhaps that is it, Wendy thought as a stray tear fought to escape one of her closed eyelids. Perhaps father and mother thought of me as a burden. . . Perhaps I am unwanted. . .
At the heart wrenching idea, the young woman wanted nothing more than to scream and rant, but instantly she muffled the painful noise that threatened to surface, and forced herself to sit with her emotions. Observing emotions without becoming overwhelmed was a trick she had learned when Aunt Millicent had been her tutor. For the first year, the exercise had been nearly impossible to accomplish. But with time and practice, she had become quite adept at judging her feelings without submitting to the extremes. And now, when such grave news had been laid at her feet, Wendy was glad that she could detach in such a way. Even if it was just for a little while.
After several minutes of deep breaths and pondering her predicament, Wendy was finally able to calm down the tempest within raging within her. Yes, her parents had signed a marriage contract without waiting for her consent. Yes, she was face to face with Captain Hook, and he was very much alive. And yes, she was currently stuck in his house in the middle of no-where with no means of transportation or any clothes or money. But despite this, she was no longer afraid. Having thought about it and calmed down her anxiety enough to see her problems, the young woman was now resigned. It was true that she was in a dilemma, but it wasn't more than she could handle.
After all, she was the first Lost-Girl. Surely escaping Willow Wood Lodge would be within her skill set.
Silently from his place standing before her, the pirate captain watched with unbridled interested as the young woman visibly fought with herself. And as he watched, Hook found that he couldn't resist the smile that crept unbidden to his lips.
To be completely honest, James was rather impressed by Wendy's restraint, seeing as he had just given her life altering news. Weaker specimens of the female ilk would have lost themselves and wept at the hand they had been dealt. But not his little storyteller. Such exposed fragility was beneath his little Storyteller, and James admired her for it.
Still . . . he couldn't resist a quick prod at her freshly gaping wound (figuratively speaking of course.)
"Are you quite alright, my dear? You look frightfully pale; almost as if you had seen a ghost."
When Wendy's eyes remained closed and she made no move to answer him, James added, "Well, it's of no matter. . . Though there are smelling salts available, should you need them?"
As James had suspected, the comment hit a nerve. For not a full second after his words had settled, Wendy's eyes flew open and she beamed him with a fiery, light green stare.
The man, upon meeting her blistering gaze, had to once more fight the almost intolerable urge to smile.
Good. Wendy was angry. This meant that she would fight him, and rise to his expectations of a worthy foe, making their battle of wills all the better for it.
Though James Gray was relieved when he saw the liquid fire burning in her eyes, he couldn't say that he was actually surprised that Wendy was meeting his challenge with such little prompting. For he could and would expect no less from the infamous Red-Handed Jill, who had taken his Hook when he had offered it to her all those years ago, upon the deck of the Jolly Roger. True, she had been a child when she had done so. But this fact did little to change his already formed opinion of the young woman who was currently trying to stare him down.
"I have never had a use for such petty things as smelling salts," Wendy said firmly, breaking his revelry quite effectively. "And I assure you Captain, that that fact will not change in the present future."
The pirate chuckled at the ardent statement, and inclined his head in a mock-gentleman's gesture. "I concede to you, my beauty. Most willingly in fact, for it means that my educated guess of your behavior was well-founded, seeing as I do not possess smelling salts. Therefore, I cannotadminister them to you, and am relieved that you do not require them."
Wendy eyes grew momentarily wide at the revelation, before she shook her head. "You disappoint me, Captain. I have not been in your company for a quarter of an hour, and you've already lied to me."
"Lied? I'm wounded you think so little of my integrity, Miss Darling. Especially given our history as such close . . . acquaintances."
Wendy lifted a single eyebrow at his obvious sarcasm. "Last time I checked, sir, we we're enemies."
"Enemies is such a harsh word, my dear," Hook said as he deftly dismissed her blunt snipe. "Seeing as we are betrothed."
Wendy frowned at him, and was careful to judge her words before speaking them aloud. For despite her sense of self-preservation, the young woman did not agree with the arrangement her parents had consented to, and she wouldn't bother pretending that she did. Never before had she cowed to anyone, and by thunder she wasn't going to start now. So instead of a direct denial, Wendy was about to tactfully change the subject, but to her surprise Hook quickly beat her to it.
"Would you care for some brandy, Miss Darling? It might sooth those anxious nerves you seem to be having so much trouble with."
Wendy knew that he expected her to act on the rude comment, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Instead, she made a show out of ignoring the insult he had tacked onto the end of his statement, and merely shook her head in the negative.
Her reasons for the refusal was quite simple: Wendy had never imbibed alcohol of any sort, and she wasn't going to start now in the presence of her childhood enemy, who would most assuredly take advantage of the situation if it was granted. So, there was no question as to whether her answer had been the correct one.
James' eyes glinted with contempt as he once more gave her an inclination of his head.
"As my lady wishes," he drawled with mock chivalry, before he moved and poured himself a glass of the deep crimson brandy from the beautiful crystal decanter that rested on one of the many tables dotting the large room. With an expert eye and a little flourish of his well-trained wrist, James had poured himself the perfect sized cup of spirits. Then, without further preamble, he took a seat in one of the crimson-velvet chairs and made himself at home.
When Wendy continued to hold her place at the far wall, and showed no immediate signs of coming to join him, James graced his guest with a meaningful glance.
"Come, my dear. Surely it would be more comfortable to sit with me than to be a wallflower? Or does your childish sense of dignity force you to remain ill at ease in my presence?"
Wendy lifted her chin ever so slightly at the taunt, and addressed him in her best no-nonsense tone, which she had used on her brothers more times than she could count.
"Your challenges are quite pointless, Captain, for I have nothing to prove you. And if it is childish to be cautious around one who I have deemed untrustworthy, then I accept the title of child graciously. I would even go so far as to say it was the best compliment I have ever been paid."
Hook lifted one of his glossy black eyebrows, and his smile turned playful. "Really?"
"Yes," Wendy replied evenly, before she added, "And now, I must ask you to prepare a carriage for my departure."
From the instant the young woman had begun her abnormal conversation with her childhood nemesis, she had switched her usually carefree air for that of a proper –if not outspoken- lady. Her loving and whimsical personality had been safely locked away, save it be damaged by the villain before her. And in her absolution, Wendy was positive that even Aunt Millicent would have been proud of her. Apparently, all her well-drilled lessons had done her some good after all.
"A carriage," he repeated smoothly, as a strange gleam entered his brilliant blue eyes.
Wendy had to fight a shudder at the familiar tone of voice that the pirate had just used. It was sugary sweet with an underlying hint of a question, and more deadly promises than the unforgiving hook that resided on the man's right hand. But despite the clenching of her stomach, the young woman held her ground, and pushed back her second thoughts. She had to stay firm.
"I will not remain in this house," she said. "You made a contract with my mother and father. Not with me. So as far as I can see, there is no validation to your claim, sir. And as I said before, I will not sleep in a man's household without a proper chaperon. So I must inquire about transportation back to London once more."
James Gray took a thoughtful sip of his brandy as he listened to her, and as he drank, his eyes never left Wendy's. The expression on his face was calculating and pensive. Almost sympathetic –if Wendy had believed he was capable of such an emotion. But as fingered the crystal cup in his hand, he shook his head, and his raven curls bounced ever so slightly.
"I'm sorry, my beauty, but I currently have no carriage to lend you."
Wendy scoffed, not believing the excuse. "Then I will borrow one of your horses."
Once more, the Captain shook his head. "They are otherwise detained."
"Then I shall walk back to London," Wendy said, finally moving away from her place at the wall. "It shall be a long journey, but I do not mind the exercise. Good-day Hook, I wish you a pleasant evening."
The young woman walked past the chair that James sat in, and in no time, had made it to the double doors and was about to pull one open when he called to her.
"Wait, Miss Darling."
Wendy turned back to face him, and let her disdain show. "Yes?"
"Please come back so that I might see who I'm addressing. I find it tiresome to speak to someone out of my line of sight."
After a silent moment of debate, Wendy reluctantly turned, and strode back to stand in front of Hook's chair. Once his forget-me-not blue gaze had lifted to meet her own light green one, she asked, "Have you changed your mind about the carriage?"
"Sadly no," Hook said with a flicker of amusement. "But I am willing to compromise, in the name of new beginnings betwixt us."
Wendy didn't want to compromise with him, but seeing as she had always considered herself to be fair in judgment; she had no choice but to hear him out.
"I'm listening."
"I wasn't lying to you when I said that my horses are otherwise engaged," he began with a small chuckle. "Mr. Smee is running an errand for me, and will not be back for several days.
If you are willing to wait until his return, I will personally escort you back home."
"You will?" Wendy asked skeptically, to which the pirate nodded with a hum.
"I have a few matters of business in London later on this week, so it would be beneficial for us both."
Wendy stared at Hook for several long moments, obviously mistrustful of his motives on such a gentlemanly offer.
"How can I trust you to keep your word," Wendy asked.
"You can't," Captain Hook said sincerely. "But I suppose if I don't, you can carry out your threat of walking home, now can't you?"
Wendy unconsciously bit her lower lip, and wondered how she had gotten herself into such an absurd predicament. No matter what decision she made, she would most definitely be setting herself up for danger. If she stayed in Willow Wood Lodge she would have to be on her guard, for Captain Hook would be watching her like a hawk. And if she walked out into the rainy evening, she would most likely catch pneumonia or be taken advantage of by Highway Men.
In end, it came down to familiar verses unknown. The danger of a man she had told stories about since she was a young girl, or the dark country roads with unidentified perils that might encompass her at any given moment.
Wendy sighed at her lack of courage, but ultimately made up her mind.
Making sure that she didn't tremble, the young lady held out her hand to the man she considered a villain, and met his intense stare.
"Alright. . . I accept your offer, with the standing condition that if I suspect foul play, that I have the right to leave immediately," she said, establishing her expectations quite nicely- secretly pleased when her voice sounded smooth and didn't betray her real feelings- as she waited for Captain Hook to seal the agreement once and for all. If she had shown weakness or broken down- like she wished to- Wendy wouldn't have known what to do as way of recovery. So she was more than grateful for the small miracle of bluffing.
James glanced at the hand that was currently placed before him, for several long seconds, as if the offered handshake had taken him by surprise. But he recovered quickly, with a grace and eloquence that made Wendy feel infinitely jealous.
"I'm glad that you take your bargains so seriously . . . Red-handed Jill," he offered with a hint of a smile, as he downed his remaining sip of brandy, placed his empty glass on the table that rested nearby, and took her hand in his own, shaking it firmly and confirming their agreement. "I feared that with Pan's influence, you might have been stunted in such matters. . . But apparently, I was foolish to worry."
The gaze that he pasted over her was brazen enough that a blind man would have caught the implications, but to James' unadulterated pleasure, Wendy continued to hold her ground. Despite the fact that he still hadn't released her hand, and showed no signs of doing so.
"I always keep my commitments, sir," Wendy promised, smiling for the first time that night. "No matter what people might say."
"Oh, of that I have no doubt, my beauty." James Gray smirked as he raised Wendy's hand to his lips and planted a chaste kiss to her knuckles. "No doubt, whatsoever."
And as he pulled back and saw light green fire in the eyes of the young Storyteller, Hook couldn't help but feel triumphant.
The lovely Miss Darling had fallen into his trap perfectly, and his carefully executed plans were all but achieved. So for the first time in weeks, Captain James Hook relaxed; content to wait.
Author's Note:
As I stated in the last chapter, I am going through severe writer's block with this story and have had to force myself to write. I have rewritten this chapter from scratch almost seven times, and I have edited this final draft more times than that. I'm still not satisfied, but I cannot linger on it anymore. I have no more creative juices or patience left to speak of, so I'm going to post as-is. Perhaps one day I'll come back and rewrite it, but for now it must stay as it is.
I apologize for the shoddy chapter, dears. I hope you aren't blinded by me trying too hard. *shudders*
Also, I love James but he is evil to write dialogue for! *stink eye* I couldn't tell you why, but he is. Ugggghhhhhh!
Anyway, what did you guys think about the new developments? (Setting aside the rubbish writing skills) What do you guys think Hook has up his sleeve? And why is he so happy to take Wendy back to London so soon? ^^ I would love to hear all your thoughts and theories about it! Please drops some reviews! I want to hear what you guys think is going to happen!
(Love and brownies/cookies to everyone who has followed, faved, reviewed, or supported this story. You are awesome!)
~Lyn Harkeran
