VI.
"I have no reason to lie to you," Meg said quietly. "But Billy's condition has worsened since this morning. If you wish to interrogate me, please be so kind as to do so inside the cabin, so I can be by his side."
Flint was silent for a moment, then released her. Nodding towards the door, he muttered, "After you."
xxx
Ten minutes later, Meg's mind was spinning from Flint's relentless questioning. The man had obviously mastered the skill of extracting information from captives. Most likely due to wearing them down, she thought ruefully.
How do you know Billy? Did you grow up with him?
When did you first see him in Nassau? And for what purpose?
For what reason did you come to the Bahamas? Who do you live with?
She told him the truth, but kept her answers simple and to the point, sensing that he was looking for any inconsistency in her story.
Finally, she had had enough. Giving him an apologetic smile, she said, "Captain, you are an important man, and I hate to waste your time. At this point, I don't believe it is possible for me to tell you any more than I already have. With your leave, I would like to change the dressing on Billy's wound before too much time goes by."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "We will be done when I say we are done. There is one issue we have not yet discussed. Our accountant, Mr. Dufresne, is quite certain that he has seen you before."
"Perhaps he has,: she replied, struggling to keep her voice pleasant. "I have been resident in Nassau for several months now. I have likely been seen by dozens of people who have patronized the bake shop."
Flint stood against the wall, arms crossed against his chest. "Miss Davies, you strike me as an intelligent woman, so I will cut to the chase. You have lived on New Providence long enough to realize that there are two sorts of people who come to the island. Pirates-and those who do business with them-are the majority. The second, smaller group, is comprised of those who on the surface are God-fearing, respectable folk, but underneath, have souls that are just as dark, if not darker, than ours."
"Your point, Captain?"
He stared at her, his blue eyes cold. "You were seen in the company of one of Nassau's ostensibly finer citizens-a man named Tobias Nelson."
"Mr. Nelson helped arrange for my family's passage to the Bahamas," answered Meg quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on Flint. "His father was one of the founders of our church in London, and was a close friend of the pastor-who was my own father."
Flint gave a short, bitter laugh. "It appears as though Mr. Nelson has strayed from the flock since he came to Nassau."
Meg's voice became defensive. "He has his faults, as we all do. But he has a good heart. If not for him, I would be dead."
"So, you are in his debt, are you?" The captain took a step towards her, then another. In the next instant, he had seized her chin with his hand, tilting her head back in order to force her to focus on him. As his fingers tightened their grip, the callouses on his palm scraped against her skin, causing her to flinch. He sneered at her, muttering, "You believe him to be a man who deserves your loyalty?"
"I have no reason to think otherwise," she gasped. "I have been taught to judge a man by what I see with my own eyes, and hear with my own ears."
Flint's jaw tightened. "You would do well to remember the words of Marcus Aurelius, Miss Davies. Everything we hear is an opinion, not a fact. Everything we see is a perspective, not the truth." He let go of her suddenly, and she took a step back.
"And what is your truth, Captain?" Meg snapped. "That you conscript honorable men like Billy, and force them to do your dirty work?"
His eyes blazed. "Hard as it may be for you to believe, every man on this ship, of his own free will, has taken an oath of loyalty to me. So do not stand there and waste your time preaching a sermon. God abandoned me-and I him- a long time ago."
Striding to the door, he jerked it open. "There will be a guard outside your door at all times. For your own protection, of course."
As the door slammed shut behind him, Meg felt terror descend upon her for the first time. To have found herself on a pirate ship commanded by a man with a fearsome reputation was bad enough. However, Flint considered Tobias Nelson to be an enemy, and apparently considered her to be guilty by association.
Tobias. She sank down on the stool next to the bed, and closed her eyes. In an instant, she was back in London, huddled with her family on the stairs of their small house.
A mob had assembled around their small Moravian Church, chanting "Down with the House of Hanover! No Presbyterians!"
"Father, what do they want with us?" whispered Meg, flinching as she heard the shouts growing louder. "We're not political-and we're not Presbyterian."
Her father had shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Meg. We are not members of the established church. To those people, all who have not sworn allegiance to the Church of England are enemies of the status quo."
The sound of glass shattering was next, followed by a roar from the mob. "Burn it! Burn it!"
"I must talk to them." murmured Henry Davies, standing up and shrugging on his coat. "This cannot escalate into violence."
"No, Henry!" Mary Davies' tear-streaked face lifted to her husband's. "It's too dangerous! I won't have you risk your life!"
"Mary." He smiled at her, then took her hands in his, kissing them lightly. "We must have faith. As a man of the cloth, I am called at all times be ready cheerfully to witness to our faith-and if need be, to suffer reproach for Christ's sake."
Meg's brother Thomas stood up. "I'm going with you, father. I won't have you be alone." Turning to his mother, he gave her an affectionate hug. "We'll treat them in a kind and friendly manner, and invite them to pray with us. How can malice be sustained in the face of the peace of Christ? In an hour, this will all just be a bad memory."
Minutes later, Meg had found herself running for her life. Tightly holding her mother's hand, she had fled down one of the fetid alleys that flanked Pudding Lane. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw glimpses of flickering torches following them, and tried to pick up the pace, her lungs burning.
Just as she began to despair, Tobias had appeared. His calm, confident presence had served to calm even Meg's mother, who had been nearly hysterical. From that moment on, they had been safe.
How could such a man have a soul as dark as Captain Flint's? It is impossible.
"Have to see to the rigging."
Meg was jolted back to the present by Billy's rasping voice.
He struggled to sit up in bed, his eyes glassy with fever.
"Billy, you need to rest," she said soothingly. "Just lay back, and try to relax."
"Can't." He shook his head, his voice becoming urgent. "There's a nasty storm coming. Captain Jennings'll have my head if anything goes awry. Just give me a moment to steady myself."
"Billy, all your Captain wants is for you to recover your health. You've been relieved of your duties for now." She placed a gentle hand on his arm, and coaxed him back onto the pillow.
He stared at her, then glanced around the room, speaking in a low tone. "You don't know him! Don't believe him for a second. It's a fucking trick. That's how he operates. He'll have me flogged within an inch of my life if I'm not on deck!" He swallowed, then met her eyes once again. "He killed the last boy he impressed, John Thompson. Keelhauled him. Do you know what that means?"
Meg leaned over him, putting a cool cloth on his forehead. "It doesn't matter. He can't hurt you now. I promise."
Billy grasped her arm, his eyes burning into hers. "It means that they tied that fourteen year old boy to a rope that was looped beneath the ship, then threw him overboard and dragged him from one side of the ship to the other until he drowned. And do you know what Thompson's "crime" was? Did they tell you?"
"No," Meg murmured, taking his hand as she sensed his agitation. "But you mustn't upset yourself, Billy."
"He was fourteen years old." Billy said bitterly. "And weighed no more seven stone, soakin' wet. His crime was sobbing for his mother after he'd been beaten by the carpenter's crew...a sort of sadistic initiation into the life of the Royal Navy."
"You're no longer in the Royal Navy, Billy. You're the boatswain of the Walrus." She hesitated, then added softly, "And I'm with you. Do you know who I am?"
His eyes swung back to her. She smiled at him, praying for a spark of recognition to appear in his deep blue eyes. All of a sudden, his expression relaxed into a smile. "Meg."
"Full marks for your memory," she said lightly. "I'm well aware I don't have the most memorable face."
"Oh, that's where you're wrong, Margaret Rose."
She flushed. "You remember my middle name."
"I'd hardly forget. Do you remember the climbing roses that grew in the tiny walled garden behind your father's church?"
"Aye," she murmured, her eyes growing misty at the memory. "They were the palest pink...they always seemed so fragile, but they were beautiful."
"Just like you." His warm fingers brushed across her cheek for an instant, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You're a lady, Margaret," he said hoarsely, his eyes half closed. "There's no place for you in my world."
"Billy Manderley, you are still the person you were...no matter what you've done."
"When you make it back to England…" He paused to catch his breath, his eyes now closed. "Tell my mother I'm healthy-and happy. Tell her that I made something of myself...that I'm a carpenter, or a tradesman. But for God's sake, don't ever let her know that I was a pirate. You know what the Bible says, Meg-probably better than I do. It's been a good while since Sunday school... but I think it's Mark...or maybe Matthew… 'Then said Jesus unto him, put up again thy sword…" His voice trailed off as he lapsed into unconsciousness.
"..into his place," whispered Meg. "For they that take the sword shall perish with the sword. Matthew 26:52."
Tears filled her eyes as she gazed at the handsome, rugged man in front of her. He was in the prime of his life.
"You may be a pirate, but I know you, Billy Manderley-and I would trust you with my life. I'm not giving up on you yet."
Sliding into the bed next to him, she laid her head on his chest.
How will I ever tell him the truth?
Many thanks to those of you who are following along! Any ideas what Meg might be keeping from Billy?