Chapter Sixteen: Portsmouth

I spent less than a second thinking about what he had done to me and the fight we had had. They meant nothing to me. Friend or foe, he was still my brother. I grew up with him under the same house and no damn storm would take him away from me!

"Roland!" I shouted, leaning over the edge of the railing and staring out into the foaming ocean.

"Roland!" I screamed again, my eyes scanning frantically for his face, or any part of his body for that matter, drifting away in the sea. But I couldn't find anything.

Lighting bolted in the sky, surrounding the surface of the rabid ocean in a blinding white light, but it was gone before I could use it to my advantage. "Dammit," I moaned, biting my lip and feeling the rain spit at my eyes.

I didn't know what I was doing next. All I knew was that my body was moving me, and I wasn't just moving anywhere. I was moving somewhere and that somewhere was to my brother.

"Andre!" I called, hailing him just before he ran down below decks.

"Aye!" he answered, fighting his way through the gusts and rain and towards me.

"Grab a line!" I ordered. "And cut it!"

"Why?" he questioned.

"Just do it!" I snapped. He reached for the nearest line and untied it. I waited for him no longer and snatched the line from his hands and tied it quickly around my waist.

"Jack, what the he—"

"Andre, Roland's out there, and I'm going to get him back. I won't go anywhere without him. We are in this journey together and both of us are going to survive. That's a promise."

"Have you taken a look out there!" screamed Andre, pointing at the booming sky. And to emphasize his point, lightning flashed again and illuminated his fear-stricken eyes. "You'll drown!"

"I don't care. If Roland drowns, so will I. Please keep an eye out for me while I'm gone, Andre. And pull me up when I tug on the rope, understand?"

"All right…" he sighed.

"Get Bennett and Dobbin to help if you can," I added. I turned around, rope tied tightly around my waist, and saluted him off with a smile. "Bye, Andy."

"G'luck, Jack." And with that, I ran a few steps back and then launched myself into the howling sea.

As my body hit the water, I felt as if I was slashed with a thousand knives. The water was bitterly cold and cutting and the short supply of air in my lungs immediately seemed as if it was severed in half, for I could barely breathe as soon as I was submerged. The water was crushing my already tightly wrapped chest and I needed to surface and get a big gulp of sweet air.

My head popped up from the water and I looked around. The ship was just a tad bit ahead of me and I had to stay close to it or my life-rope would break. In fact, it was gently pulling against my torso.

"Roland!" I wailed. "Roland!"

I found his hat floating in the water and I swam swiftly to it, practically stroking through the waves like a maniac in order to get to it, and I didn't mind the waves of saltwater that punched my face and found a way down my throat. I seized the hat and then dived in the area where it floated and stretched out my hands in the possibility of me feeling a piece of Roland's coat.

I felt nothing.

Damn!

"Roland!" Just the slightest thought that my efforts were useless was beginning to invade my head, but I refused for the doubt to increase. I'd find Roland. I'd die finding him if I needed to. I needed my brother.

"ROLAND!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, nearly eating up the rest of my breath. I was left wading in the water, gasping for air and jerking my head back and forth to look for his face.

"Astrid!" came a faint call. My heart nearly jumped up my chest and out my mouth from shock.
"Roland?" I gasped, spinning about frenetically. "Brother?" My eyes went crazy searching the water for him and I saw a hand wave up at me before sinking below.

Dear God, I've found you!

"Roland!" I clasped my arms together in a point and dove below the waves again, now with a clear direction of where my dear brother was.

I couldn't see through the salty sea water, and so I always had my arms before me, stretching out to feel anything. At times, I'd feel seaweed graze my fingers and I'd grasp it, mistaking it for Roland's hair or a part of his coat. But eventually, my hands finally felt human skin, and I grabbed hold of it and hauled it above the water as best as I could. It was indeed Roland, and he was not breathing.

"Roland," I wheezed, slapping his face a bit. "C'mon, Roland. Wake up, brother." I gave him a few shakes, but there was nothing. Dammit!

Remembering the rope around my waist, I gave it a fierce tug and rattled it about a bit, hoping that Andre would remain dutiful and would pull us up.

While waiting for Andre to respond by actually sending a reply to my signal, I untied the rope around my waist and wrapped it around Roland's limp body so that he would be ensured of his life. Afterwards, I clung to his cold self, the waves of the ocean washing away my tears as I worried over his condition. Please brother, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave.

"Ya have to live, Roland," I whimpered, hugging him all the closer. "I'm sorry." I felt his body suddenly wrench away from me, and I realized that good old Andre had stayed true to me. I immediately reached forward and clutched Roland's abdomen as we were slowly lugged through the waves and closer and closer to our ship. Thank God…

"Well, what have we here?" cheered Dobbin as I looked up and saw our faithful mates hauling us on deck.

"Two fish," said another voice and I grinned all the more.

Bennett had come along too.

He smiled down at me as we were gradually pulled up and as soon as we were within an arm's reach, they pulled us over the rail and Roland and I toppled onto the deck, dripping wet and coughing, or at least, I was. Roland was still unconscious.

"Call for Doctor Cavanaugh, if you please," said Bennett, nodding his head in Andre's direction. Obediently, Andre saluted and left, leaving the three of us to handle the situation. Apparently though, I had caused some commotion on the deck and Mister Sumner was making his way through.

"What's goin' on here, lads?" he demanded, peering at my shuddering self and Roland's insensate body.

"Mister Turner fell overboard and Jack Barlow went in after him," replied Bennett. Mister Sumner's nose wrinkled in bafflement and he peered suspiciously at me, as he always did whenever I did anything out of the ordinary.

"Is that true, Barlow? Ya dive into a storm jus' t'save a good friend o' yours?"

"Yes, sir," I stuttered, gripping onto my freezing clothes to keep in my warmth. "No man should be left behind. Better more than less." He didn't lift his glare off me after nearly five minutes, or until Andre returned with Doctor Cavanaugh, carrying a few blankets and a coat.

"Well, Jack," said Cavanaugh, grinning at me with pure amazement. "Another brave deed for you. Give him both of the blankets and bring him down the galley. The storm's subsided for the most part and he should be kept warm down by the heat of the stove."

"Aye, sir," replied Bennett, and before anyone else could help me up, Bennett offered me a hand and I took it with trembling knees. He helped me steady myself though by letting me lean on him, which worked for my benefit in two ways. I'd get his support and also his body heat.

"Wait," I said, turning my head around. "When he wakes, tell me."

"Certainly, Jack. Go on now. You need some looking after as well," said Cavanaugh, and I hobbled off with Bennie to the galley, and from his spot at the quarterdeck beside the wheel, I discovered Captain Carlisle watching us with his sea green eyes.

The night was late and I was still in the galley with Bennett. He was kind enough to get me a seat very close to the stove, and I thanked him for it, never realizing how wonderful a friend he had been to me. I knew Roland was wrong about many things, as I was, but he was most definitely wrong about Bennett. The dashing midshipman would never dare hurt me, and I hoped that one day Roland would see that. In fact, with Griffith gone on the other ship, Bennett was more of himself. He talked more, that was for sure, and he was also more assertive and in control, while still remaining civilized and reasonable. If anyone deserved to be Fourth Lieutenant, it was him, and not a bastard like Griffith.

I wiped my dripping nose with my sleeve, not really caring about the fact that Bennett was closely watching me, especially because he was such a high-class and well-respected lad. I cared not. He would either have to grow accustomed to my ugly habits, or accept them.

"That was another spontaneous stunt you implemented, Jack," he said abruptly, staring at me with his scintillating blue eyes. The fire glowing from the stove made for a very warm glow about him and I was reminded of my Adam, wherever he was. Or if he even remembered me…

"Didn't do it on purpose," I replied. "A life was at stake. What was I supposed to do?"

"Most men would have just let the man drown. Have you ever heard about, well, the general code on the sea?"

"What code?" I asked dumbly.

"That any man who falls behind, stays behind. You've never heard it?" He scratched his head and frowned a bit, perhaps a bit dulled by my incomprehension of the subject. He was always so quick and clever. The lad was very smart. Smarter than I would ever be.

"No," I said simply, licking my lips and feeling my stomach growl. "I think I'll get some food." As I was getting up, Bennett stayed me with a hand and gently pushed me back down to my seat.

"No need. I'll get it. You shouldn't be doing much after your lengthy swim in the ocean. Go on, relax."

"All right." And he left after that, leaving me wondering if it was about time he knew who Jack Barlow really was. The lad had proved himself trustworthy, and I admired his company more than anyone else's, except for Roland's. I didn't know why, but there was something about him that made me feel… odd.

My pondering was interrupted with his return, and he handed me a square dish of the usual meal and a tankard full of grog. "Thank you," I said timidly.

I was about to take a spoonful of the steaming stew when I heard a very unexpected, "E-Excuse me." My head shot up from my dish and I saw Roland, still damp from the water and all wrapped in blankets. But unlike the last time we had spoken, he was smiling at me. "May I have a word with Jack, Mister Bennett?" he asked and Bennett hurriedly got up and let Roland have his seat.

"Thank you, Bennie," I said.

As Roland sat beside me, he pursed his lips in thought, not really knowing what to say or to do in my presence.

"Thank you, Jack," he sighed at last, looking straight at me. I smiled back, feeling my brother return to me. "I owe you my life, brother. Thank you." I would have tackled him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, but I smartly chose otherwise.

"Aw, g'wan and say more 'bout how I'm yer hero an' everythin'" I teased, hooking my arm around his neck and digging a fist lightly into his wet hair. "But on the more serious note, brother. I wouldn't care if you deeply hated me and wished I'd die, I'd save ye anyway." Because I love you, brother, I added inwardly. And Mum and Dad back home would have slaughtered me if they found out I let you drown.

"But that's exactly what happened. I told you I hated you and that I wished you died. So why? Why'd you risk your life to save me? I was as good as a dead man."

"Well, you're me brother, Roland. We're in this journey together. It's just as much yours as mine. Besides, I wouldna let you die till you seen me dad. Plus, I've already made up me mind t'make you the best man of me weddin'."

"You're daft, Jack," laughed Roland.

"Am I? Or is it just me grog?" I raised my tankard and grinned.

"No. I am certain it is you." He swung his own arm around my neck and gave me a good bump on the head with his fist and just like that, we were blood brothers again… or blood brother and sister through my eyes.

"Good. Now that that's done, Roland. I need to speak to you about more important matters."

"What are they?"

"It has to do with… well… nature."

"Nature?" he echoed.

"Yes, nature." And after a few seconds, Roland finally understood and indicated it to me with an elongated 'oh.'

"Tell me later, Jack," he said. "I'm hungry." And without warning, he took a spoonful of my food and stuffed it into his face, earning him a good slap on the head.

At last! Land ahoy!

The men were cheering and howling with rapture at the sight of land. Our wind was positively magnificent and we were inching closer and closer to the harbor. I could tell our crew was the happiest it had ever been and several men were up in the highest of the rigging to get the best view of land, or perhaps, their home.

Agood four months it took for us to finally reach our destination: Portsmouth, England. At last, I'd be able to see the busy streets and the active harbor of one of England's most popular ports. Not to mention that I'd finally be introduced to Bennett's lovely Marie. Perhaps I would even meet Nattie and Ian up there too, for Ian was a merchant and Portsmouth was common harbor for ships. There was even just the slightest possibility that I'd see Adam. After all, his father was being relocated to England for a brief time and Adam could possibly still be there. The excitement was causing my girlish dreams to become far too apparent for my own good.

My hands gripped a line of the main topgallant shroud to steady myself as I stood high on the main topgallant yard. It was difficult to get my feet balanced on the yardarm, for the wind had gone mad and was blowing strongly in my face, making for a tricky force to defeat.

My hair was still cut short, for I kept it that way. Every couple of weeks or so, I'd trim off a few inches with my sword. Now with all the fairy business beginning to bubble about, I had to keep my true identity highly protected. It would have been nice, though, to feel the wind blowing my hair.

Andre stood beside me, one hand clinging to the same shroud, but we weren't actually seeing things eye-to-eye anymore. For one, I was not even in Andre's field of vision. The lad had grown tremendously over the few months it took us to get to Portsmouth. Perhaps half a foot at the least, and he grew not only in height, but in breadth. He looked quite a fit young man now, worthy of a spot as midshipman, and whenever we lads were confronted by the captain, the other middies, mainly Roland and Dob, would make the slight hints about promotion.

My ship's boy companion had also grown out his hair, not to mention that his voice was changing. Squeaky at times it'd be, and then at others it'd drop low. Oh, the wonderful world of adolescence. We still managed to stay good mates for the most part, but Andre was getting a lot of influence from the sailor, Hawley; otherwise known as the man with the fiddle.

Hawley was without a doubt a good sailor. He was firm, but not a dirty old brute, and he was also willing to help others. Plus, whenever he'd strike his fiddle, the lads would go wild with the tunes. Hawley was a foretopman: one of the highest ranks an able bodied sailor could have. He was a good role model for Andre. I wasn't surprised that Andre spent less time with me. I had to admit, I missed his funny jigs and crude comments.

From above, I spotted a midshipman emerge from below decks and eagerly walk towards the bow of the ship, where many a sailor were assembling. I could recognize his steps from anywhere, for I had observed his steps quite often. It was charming Mister Bennett.

"Hey, Bennie!" I called from above. He didn't hear me. I was too high up for my voice to be carried away to him.

I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Look, Jack! We're almost to the harbor!" cried Andre, grinning widely. "C'mon. We'll be docking soon, I think, an' I wanna be down on one of them boats first. Ya comin'?" My mind had to choose between getting Bennie up with me, or following Andre. I decided to follow Andre.

"Lead the way, brother!" I cheered, and I challenged him to a race to see who could get down first. We climbed like monkeys down the shrouds. He won. I lost. And things were still about the same. As soon as his feet hit the deck, he ran off, looking for his sea dad, Hawley, without so much as a, "Good game, Jackaroe!"

Although, I had grown to despise that name. Jackaroe. Made me sound more like a villain than a noble sailor. Plus, Griffith was the one who dubbed me that, and I was glad I did not have to see his face for four months.

The ship was finally anchored, a bit away from the actual docks of the harbor because the shallower waters would not be able to support its unfathomable mass. Plus, the Admiral's boat would be coming to the ship first to discuss the prize and prize money with Captain Carlisle and his lackeys.

Lieutenant Thorne and his band of men though, re-boarded the ship after docking the prized French frigate. And sadly, I had to salute and glance at Griffith's face. He seemed most overjoyed to finally be with Bennett, his only mate on the ship as it were.

Bennett and Griffith greeted each other with salutes and claps on each other's shoulders. "Back home, brother," said Griffith with his horrendous grin. "Not to mention my sister." He nudged Bennett with his elbow and the two chuckled lightly to themselves. "When are you going to propose?" he joked, and Bennett shook his head with a blushing face.

"I don't know," answered the spineless lad. "When I feel that I'm ready." And they said no more.

I was convinced that I hated admirals, for we had to wait for hours before we could get off the boat and parade about Portsmouth. Us ship's boys had to stand, backs straight, eyes stern, and hands stiffly at our sides unless we had to salute. And when we did have to salute we had to do it in a more orderly manner. Not just a simple nod of a hat or knuckle to the brow. We had to be strict and very controlled, which I found very difficult since my anxiety to get on land was killing me.

But at last, after an hour or two of dining and talking with our captain, the admiral, all decked in his glimmering gold brocade, large feathery hat, and spotless white trousers, finally took his leave with his band of minions. Leaving us with our pay from the captured French frigate as well as new orders.

What those orders were, I did not know. But Bennett and Roland and the other middies sure did. And they were even more excited after they found out. "Where's our next destination?" I asked, as the men began to pile into the boats to get to land.

"We're off to hunt pirates in the Mediterranean!" hooted Roland, with a toss of his hat in the air. What the hell is good about that?,I wondered. What if we find Jack?

"Wait—" I began, but it was too late for me to change their minds. He and Dobbin had linked arms and were circling about laughing and howling with joy. "Can we get t'land now?" I advised. "I'm dyin' to see this Portsmouth of Mister Bennett's." Roland and Dobbin stopped their expression of frivolity and my brother looked at me oddly, his eyes narrowed but with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, I see," he said. "Wouldn't want to keep Mister Bennett waiting, right, Jack?" I replied with a mumble.

"Let's jus' get goin'. Where's Andre?"

After recruiting Andre and hopping into a boat with Roland, Dobbin, Bennett, and unfortunately Griffith, we rowed off to the docks.

Hello, Portsmouth, I thought as I gazed upon the buildings and life of it. We had finally set foot on land, and proper Bennett was arranging a coach for us. I told him I didn't need a damn carriage, me being a ship's boy, but he declined my suggestion and went off to get one anyway. His own family's carriage, might I add.

It was strange to finally walk on land again. My legs weren't used to its steadiness, and my body was a bit compelled to wobble because that was what it was used to. But we soon got our land legs back, and while we waited for Bennett to get us his fine little carriage, Roland, Dobbin, Andre and I scrutinized the docks and paced around a bit, chatting with some other sailors from merchant ships and other warships anchored in the harbor. But then we came upon a merchant ship that was captained by someone I never thought I'd see again.

"Mister Clyde!" yelled Roland, waving his arms in the air to get Ian's attention. Ian was directing his men in unloading the cargo, and turned his head abruptly to the side, somewhat baffled at the call. After searching about for a while and then looking down at us, he smiled and hurried down to the docks to greet us.

"My, Mister Turner!" he exclaimed, shaking Roland's hand. "When did the Paramount dock? I don't recall seeing her."

"Oh no, sir," replied Roland. "I didn't sign up on the Paramount. I'm from the Resolve."

"Well then," said Ian, not knowing what to say. "It's good to see a familiar face. How are your parents?"

"Doing very well, I hope," said Roland, keeping his answer brief. He knew he couldn't say much because he didn't know how our family back in Port Royal was doing.

"Good. Good. Do you lads have anywhere to go during your stay here? My wife and I could very well let you stay in our home."

"No need to, I don't think, sir," said Roland. "We're taking a coach to Mister Gareth Bennett's home for today." Ian's smile grew all the wider.

"Bennett has returned? This is a surprising day indeed!" He began to look from face to face, so happy that he wanted everyone to see his elated visage. But then his eyes landed on me, and he grew all the more shocked. "Extremely surprising," he added. "Who is your friend?" he asked, looking at me, but asking Roland the question. His unblinking eyes must have recognized my pirate wear from that wondrous Christmas day spent with the Lockes. I felt my face burn, hoping that Ian wasn't asking the question because he knew who I was. But it seemed as though he did. Why did men have to be so bloody intelligent?

"This is Jack Barlow. He's a ship's boy on the Resolve."

"Well done then, Jack," said Ian with a grin. "Well done." He clapped me on the shoulder, leaving me a bit confused as to why he was proud of me being disguised as a boy, but too happy to see him to mind. "I really must get back to my crew, Roland," he said at last. "Perhaps you'll join me and my wife to dinner some time during your stay here?"

"Of course, Ian." And I heard no more. I'd get to see my good ol' sister Nattie again. And I was dying to see her, just to get out all of my girlish thoughts without shame.

After waiting for nearly an hour and having gone mad with entertaining ourselves with dying conversation, Bennett and Griffith finally returned with their carriage. A simple black box with wheels and doors hauled away by four horses. Ah, a coach and four for Mister Bennett.

"Took ye long enough," I snorted as I happily leapt into the box, glad that I didn't have to wait on a man as I would have had to do if I were dressed as a lady. "How the hell am I supposed to see Portsmouth, if you trap me in a damn coach?" I muttered, sitting myself closest to the carriage windows and sticking my head out of it. But I wasn't alone. Andre had hopped in and was gazing about it with sheer wonder.

"You two look like you've never been in a carriage before," smirked Griffith as he stepped in, unfortunately, taking a seat beside me. "Oh wait," he mocked. "You're orphans. How on earth could I have forgotten? Of course you do not know what it is like to ride in a coach." Both Andre and I had pulled our heads out of the window and glowered at Griffith, who seemed unquestionably pleased with our glares.

"I think I'd find some fresher air outside the carriage," I said, looking Griffith straight in the eye with grinding teeth. "After all, I think I smell something very foul in here, don't ya think, Andy?"

"I can't even breathe," he laughed, joining in on my act and pretending to choke.

"Can't you two tolerate each other for just one moment?" intruded Bennett, not wanting to seem like a bad host. "I'm taking all of you to my home and I implore you to please behave. You especially, Jack."

"Oh, it's always gotta be wild little Jackaroe, aye?" I scoffed, slumping in my seat and folding my arms with a humph.

"A quick stop at my house, Bennett," said Griffith. "I must greet my sister and father."

"Certainly," came Bennett's reply, and from within, I almost gagged myself into unconsciousness.

The tightly clustered and narrow homes of the inner harbor were increasingly growing in size, and soon, more trees could be seen, accompanied by larger areas of green pasture and fields. The occasional orphan or beggar ambling about the streets was now nonexistent in Bennett's and Griffith's territory and all that remained were the vast green sea, and the clean, damp air.

I never thought I'd lay eyes on such a dreary place. England was very… gloomy, compared to the sunny, clear Caribbean. I made the decision already never to live in England. There were more possibilities, yes, but I could not be happy in an environment where even nature was not happy with me.

Bennett's, "We're at Griffith's home," was what drew me from my daydream and shifting my gaze from the window to the carriage doors, I got up first and prepared to leave.

"What the hell are you doing?" squawked Griffith, giving me a push back to my seat.

"Leaving," I retorted, but Griffith nearly stood up right then and there and would have kicked me 'til I bled unless Bennett stopped him.

"Leave it, Griffith. Just go." With a twitch of his eye, Griffith stomped out of the coach and before Bennett followed after him, I grabbed his arm.

"Why can't I go first?" I questioned.

"Because that's how it is, Jack. What did you think? You had special reason to exit? You're just a ship's boy." And I let him leave at that. My womanly mind had caused me to act as if I was a woman and was therefore always first to exit a carriage. Little did I know that they did not see me as a dainty woman.

I allowed Roland and Dobbin to walk out before me, feeling all the more low. And now, I would have to face Griffith's family. Dear God, I do not think I will survive the night.

"Jack," ordered Griffith, pointing a finger at me as if I was an inanimate and lifeless object. "You shall be my servant. Carry my luggage, will you?" Fire sparked in my eyes and I was about to protest, but I held in my steam and marched back to the carriage to retrieve Master Griffith's stupid baggage.

"You've ridiculed him enough already," I heard Bennett say in a hushed tone towards Griffith. "You know for a fact that the servants of your home would gladly take care for that for you. I brought Jack and Andre here as guests, Victor. Treat them as such."

"What!" bellowed Griffith. "You expect me to treat those bastards as equals? You might as well dub them lord and King of all England, for God's sake! What's gotten into that head of yours, Bennett? My God, you're friends with a flea-covered ass and a brainless imbecile."

Nothing was said after that. Bennett did not respond, and failed to support Andre and me.

Perhaps what Dobbin said a long time ago to me was right. He told me it didn't come down to friendship for lads like Griffith or Bennett. It came down to pride. And it was clear at that moment that Bennett was unwilling to give up what was left of his just yet. Griffith was still the victor.

"Let's get going," said Griffith. "The baggage can wait. I already have enough on my hands. Call back the Jackaroe," he added with a simper.

Griffith's home was predictably grand and luxurious. It was painted white and had edged, carved columns on his front porch, all smooth and gleaming with paint. The front doors were black, wooden, and massive, with brass door knockers bigger than my head. Bennett was not kidding when he said Griffith's father was very successful in his slave trade. But in a sense, the fact that he sold lives for profit made all the affluence and sparkle of extravagance terribly dull. There was nothing to shine or be proud of when the money used to buy the richness was blood money, and the thought sent a shiver down my back.

The front doors gave way, answered by a middle-aged man. The doorman, I assumed. After bowing to Victor Griffith and exchanging a few words with him, we were granted permission to pass through and Griffith's home was even more sickeningly beautiful on the inside than it was on the outside. I almost fainted from the choking pampered air of the pampered home.

When Griffith's father arrived to greet us, Griffith did not allow us to introduce ourselves. He merely spoke for us, which could either have been good or bad, depending on how one looked at it. Of course, the damn toff said I was a servant boy, as was Andre, but perhaps saying we were ship's boys would have increased Lord Griffith's frown.

"Well, I do hope you have appropriate lodging for your companions," said Lord Griffith, rubbing his chin and looking at Andre and me with all too apparent disgust.

Lord Griffith was a tall, slightly round man of perhaps no more than forty-five. His hair was still black and neatly combed back and tied into a ponytail. His skin was rather pale and fair compared to our sunburned and tanned selves but his eyes that proved him to be Griffith's father. He had those same frightening blue and savage eyes.

"They are not going to stay here, Father," said Griffith, almost as a laugh. "I'd never do that. Bennett of course, as the exception. They are lodging elsewhere. They were just kind enough to drop me off. Where is Marie?"

"Griffith!" came a shriek. Our heads spun over to the winding staircase and down it treaded a black-haired woman with skin whiter than chalk and a puffy, violet dress that rustled with her. "Dear brother! How—And Mister Bennett!"

Bennie finally saw his opportunity to do something and he walked up to Marie and took her hand as he escorted her to us. Of course, not after kissing her fingers.

"The perfect couple," praised Griffith, approaching his sister and paying his respect and admiration by bowing and kissing the back of her hand. I grew sick with the formality. "Good to see you, sister."

"My, you have brought quite a lovely group of young men with you, Victor," she cooed, looking at Andre, Dobbin, Roland and me and batting her dark eyelashes. She too had the same strikingly blue eyes as her father and brother, as well as the black, tamed hair.

Her eyes fell on me, and her eyebrows uncurled from interest to surprise. "And who may you be, good sir?" she asked, leaving Bennett's side and nearing me, her hand extended before her. I looked at it, and then back at her face and bit my lip. I would certainly not kiss her hand, and so, acting the fool once again, I grabbed it and shook it. And from the corner of my eye, I saw Bennett wince and Griffith frown.

She pulled her hand away from mine, laughing nervously to herself. "I'm Jack Barlow," I boasted. "Yer brother's servant."

"Really? Will you be staying for dinner? A couple of days?"

"No," I said simply. 'Cause I'll be staying in Bennett's lovely home and not yours. So stop looking at me like… that. Uh oh… She batted her eyelashes again and backed away shyly, while I felt my ears slightly grow red. If I was not mistaken, Marie had just flirted with a woman.

Thankfully, the rest of our visit to Griffith's grand estate was ended soon, and Bennett, Roland, Dobbin, Andre and I all walked out, back to the carriage. Griffith wisely chose to stay with his family, and with him gone, and his sister not looking at me, I felt highly relieved.

"How much further is yer home, Bennie?" I asked, but he didn't answer. I sat next to him and I leaned forward and peered suspiciously at him to create irritation, but he kept a straight and solemn face. I took it that he wasn't very happy with me, especially because I shook a woman's hand instead of kissing it, and also because his suitor had shown interest in me, which I found uncomfortably disturbing.

"Not far," he growled, and with an added sigh and shake of his head, he finally gave me his attention. "Why can you not be proper for once?"

"Whaddya mean? Bennie, I'm not like you. I wasn't raised in some grand an' fancy home with servants and riches. I grew up on the streets. Whaddya expect?"

"I know you can act composed but you won't. You must always embarrass us by playing the fool."

"So I'm a fool then, aye?" I countered. "Best send me off to a show then. I'd get more respect from them than you." He whirred on me, fire about ready to spit from his mouth.

"I can very well just toss you out on the road right now, Jack," he warned, hissing it through his clenched teeth.

"Well, then that doesn't make you much of a good host, now does it?" I parried bravely, acting as if he was below me. The boy practically ruptured into flames with my rude remarks.

"Get out!" he shouted. "Mister Lester, open the door. I will not tolerate Jack's foul mouth any longer."

"Is that really why yer angry?" I asked, with a wry chuckle. "Or is it because lovely Marie has taken a fancy to me?"

I didn't know why I was teasing him further. For some odd reason, I found his angry face quite an entertaining amusement. Not in a bad way. I thought he looked, well… very handsome whenever he was mad. It was no surprise though, that Bennett erupted like a volcano and grabbed my shirt collar and was about to beat me, when Roland said:

"My God! It's Nattie, Jack! She's outside of that home right there!" His cry allowed for me to get spared from Bennett's ire and we all leaned forward and stared out of the carriage windows. And sure enough, Nattie was outside on her front porch, sewing in a rocking chair. "Bennett, do you mind if we stay here?" asked Roland. "I mean, I'm very close to the Lockes and so I know Ian and Nattie and—"

"Go ahead. Just make sure you take Jack with you," he grumbled. "Stop the carriage," he ordered to the coachman.

"Oh, Bennie, come along now too," I ribbed, looking pleadingly at him. His face was less taut with anger and he seemed to be holding back on fulfilling my request.

"All right," he confessed. "I'll go."

"Good!" I cheered, punching his arm before hopping out of the carriage and running to greet my "sister," Natalie Locke Clyde.

Nattie was not happy to see me.

When we arrived and introduced ourselves, she took one look at me and my short hair and filthy self and almost fainted. But she was stronger than that and smiled a lady's smile, while concealing her definite rage quite well. She permitted Roland, Dobbin, Andre and even Bennett to spend the night in the house, and we all agreed. Even Bennett, which was surprising because I could have sworn that the boy would have rather stayed in his own house for the night. But apparently, he had other plans.

On the more motherly side of her she added, "You boys are positively squalid!" And she twisted her face in a tight grimace. "All of you must be given a good bathe before supper tonight."

She called for a series of her maids and they all came and led us to the rooms we'd stay in for the night, and although Nattie's home was less luxurious than Griffith's, it still matched in size. Ian was doing very well for a merchant then, I would imagine.

While us boys all went our separate ways to be bathed, Nattie followed me to my corresponding room, with the maids assigned to me. "Leave," she ordered her maids, and without question, they filed out of the washroom and left Nattie to scold me. "I will not use your true name, dearie," she said, as calmly as her tongue would let her. She, like Adam, was very good at containing her fury, but it would only be a matter of time before she exploded. "Would you care to tell me just exactly what you are doing here, dressed like that!" I smiled my sheepish grin but Nattie was far from pleased.

"It's a long story," I said softly, recalling back to the day where I had resolved to go on a ship and leave behind my family; the day I found out I was the daughter of a pirate.

"I pray that you tell me all, Jack," she ordered. "While you are given a good rinse. My God, are those nits in your hair?" She plucked something from my head and showed me a small, microscopic white bug. "Lord, help me," she sighed.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know when you saw me dressed like this during Christmas, you'd never think I'd actually go somewhere with it. But I had to. And Ian's already seen me and I just know he knows it's me too." She called back her maids after shaking her head more at me and ordered them to shut the door so that none of my mates would accidentally walk in and see some things that they were not supposed to see for quite a long time.

It was off with the dirty trousers and muddy boots and soiled shirt and vest. And lastly the constricting cloth that had been tied around my chest for nearly a year. I was plunged in a tub of hot water and was harshly being scrubbed away when Nattie bade me to continue my story. And so I began the tale, starting from the day I found out I was a pirate's daughter and ending with my resolution.

"A life on the sea is what I need, Nattie," I concluded. "And I'm out here right now to find my true father. I need to find Jack, Nattie. He'll tell me who I am."

"But you're, Astrid, sister," she said gently, taking a pitcher and dumping its contents over my head. "By meaning, 'a beautiful and powerful god.' You have done more than you think."

"But nothing to be proud of," I returned. She sighed and looked at me, much in the way my dear Mum would have done long ago.

"Do you think you have to do something brave and heroic in order to feel proud, Astrid?" she questioned. I looked up at her, only to have my face drenched in the clean rose water.

"How else will I know what I can do?" I replied, wiping the water away from my eyes. They were now stinging, either from the water, or from my own tears, which would have been strange. Why was I crying? I was just explaining to Nattie what I had to do.

"Astrid," explained Nattie, grabbing a white sheet of fluffy cloth and toweling my head with it. "Bravery is only one part of who you are. If you always do things that are brave, well, that's all you'll know about yourself. And if I truly wanted to figure out myself, I'd look beyond the horizon."

After shaking my head rather vigorously with the cloth, she told me to wait in the room and to dress in a simple gown until she came back with new and cleaner clothes for me. Boy clothes, might I add.

"And what if I never reach the horizon to look beyond it?" I asked as she was leaving.

"Knowing you, young sister, it is certain that you will. I do not think you honestly believe what you say, Astrid. You are in denial because you are still unsure if you made the right decision. Believe me, I know how that feels. I was a lost fool when I came back to England by myself. Luckily, I had people to help me find the Nattie you see before you. I'll be back soon. You don't go out, and none of your mates come in, all right?"

"Yes, ma'am," I mumbled, being led over to the dressing screen. Here we go again, Astrid. In a dress you shall be confiscated in until good ol' Nattie comes back with your new apparel. I braced myself as I felt the familiar frame of a corset being attached around me. "Bring me that horizon."

I stared at myself in the mirror of the room I was staying in. Nattie had arrived just a few moments ago with my new attire, and with it now on me, I examined myself closely in the silver glass. My face was slightly tanned from hours of being under the sun on a ship, and there was a definite scar on my right eyebrow, on my cheek and also on my neck. Perhaps they were not too obvious, but they were still vaguely visible. Other than those few marks, my face was clean again, thanks to the bath I took, and my hair was not sticky or weighed down with dirt.

Uneasily, I parted my lips and smiled into the mirror, my tongue feeling for the empty space in the back of my mouth where I lost a tooth in the fight with the Frenchies. At least none of my front teeth were punched out. I would have needed golden substitutes if I lost one, and that would make me the ugliest woman that ever walked the earth.

Finished with my rather conceited self-inspection, I looked down at my clothes. I was dressed in brown britches that came all the way down below my feet, but were rolled up and stuffed into my boots so that it appeared as if they only fell to my knees. On the top half of my body, I wore an olive green vest and shirt, and over that, I wore a forest green coat, that was dully embroidered with brass buttons. The cloth was rather stiff and itchy, but I was just a servant boy. I wasn't allowed to have grand clothes.

Taking one more overall and thorough look at myself in the mirror, I sighed with disappointment. "If Adam were to see me," I puffed. "He would scream." And, refusing to stare at my shameful self a moment longer, I sucked in a breath and marched out of the room, down the stairs, and straight into the company of my good mates.

"Hullo, Jack!" yelled a well-dressed Andre. He and I wore the same apparel, thanks to Nattie's clever mind. We'd be taken as servant boys immediately, but it was slightly better than our clothes as ship's boys. "Look, we're twins!" he laughed, clapping me on the shoulder, and I laughed along with him.

It was early evening. Before Nattie had given me my clothes, she had gone by Bennett's father's house to invite them to dinner, and so they would be arriving at any moment, and although I was not the least bit uneasy, I was sure Bennett was.

"Miss Clyde did a very nice job for you two," said Bennett, quite calmly to my surprise. I didn't even bother to look for him when I came down, but when he walked forward, I stopped dead in my tracks. He looked absolutely stunning.

He was dressed in brilliantly white britches that came down to his knees, with stockings to match, and he stood in a pair of shiny black shoes with buckles on them. Over that he wore a shirt, whose collar covered his neck and a vest lined in pale gold thread. And to finish his dazzling appearance, he wore a dark blue, almost black coat, which was also finely embroidered with just a bit of golden brocade. Not too much. He was still a petty officer. Roland and Dobbin were dressed similarly, but they still did not seem as radiant as Bennett did then.

"Dressing to impress?" I asked, gingerly grabbing the tail of his coat and wrinkling my face as if I was disgusted with the finery.

"No," he said, pulling his coat tail from my fingers. "It doesn't hurt to look nice."

"And it doesn't hurt to impress either," I added. "I didn't say dressing to impress was a bad thing."

"By your tone, I assumed it."

"Well, then you don't know me very well, Bennie," I replied, but quickly shutting myself up after that. I was acting coquettish again with all the mind games I was playing with him. Dammit, Astrid.

I slyly took a quick glance at him to see how he had reacted and he was blushing. Not to mention that out of the corner of my eye I saw Roland and Dobbin snickering amongst themselves.

Nattie and Ian came rushing from the living room, she dressed finely in a light blue dress and he dressed finely in red and black. And then came a knock on the doors…