Had she been hit in the face, repeatedly, with an iron, Joan would have woken up feeling better than she did this morning. She t hought when one drank in excess one did not remember the events of the previous night, but oh… did she remember.
Her cheeks burned in shame as she rolled to her side, lifting the blankets over her head with a groan. She couldn't believe she almost…couldn't believe she was going to…with Charles Vane! And then obviously he must have been just has put off by the idea since he left in such a hurry. She should have gone to bed after that! Should have reminded herself that decent women didn't cavort with pirates in a room by themselves and they certainly didn't kiss them. Or through rags at them. Or drink with them.
Joan groaned again, the headache a welcome distraction from her shame. Headache or no, she had things to do today. Things that did not involve ruminating on The Ranger crew or it's captain.
Ridiculous.
Joan hoisted herself up, throwing on her old clothing; she'd have to return the borrowed dress to Rosalie and then find a ship to take her…where? Back to London, she assumed, to pick up the pieces of her old life.
But did she want that?
Joan tied her hair back, her hat placed securely atop her head. When she was on the Ranger, she'd heard men talk about Nassau, a land not run by a king but by the people. Joan had heard of it too, but it had never been anything to her except a pirate's playground. Full of whores, and murderers and all manner of lowlifes. But now, she realized, it could be a potential landing spot. She'd had no desire to return to London, not really, not with the doctor dead; and she certainly didn't want to return to life as a maid. She could, however, set up her own surgery. See patients, help, make medicines…maybe even teach another woman the way Doctor Battie had taught her.
She smiled to herself, lost in thought a future she now dared to dream of as her fingers ran over the borrowed dress. Possibility, a future, dreams…all things she had long since tucked away, never imagining she would have any of these things of her own! But now, it was so close the thought made her giddy, a giggle escaping her, which she quickly suppressed.
Shouldn't get carried away, first things first, she needed passage to Nassau.
Joan made her way through Port Royal, following the herds that moved toward The Nightlark, the house Rosalie worked out of. Perhaps, while she was returning the woman's things, she'd know what ships would be willing to escort her tow the port.
She brushed past the swarm of Naval officers, their numbers seeming to grow over night, and briefly she wondered if the Ranger crew would hastily be making their retreat. A part of her did hope that they made it out alright. At long last she made it back, Rosalie's smirking face greeting her at the door.
"Back so soon?" She asked, opening the brothel door wider.
"Not for long I'm afraid." Joan said regretfully. "I came to return this, with my thanks." The woman took the dress, holding it up for inspection.
"Keep it, I've got another one like it." She said handing it back with a shrug. "Anyways, it's a bit unlucky for me now."
"I can't imagine I've made it so unlucky in one night!" Joan laughed in disbelief.
"You fuck anyone?" Joan's scarlet face was the only answering response, "Didn't think so. Makes it unlucky for me, someone who's livelihood depends on fucking."
"I see…well, I'm terribly sorry for the trouble." She said wryly. "Should I pay you then?" Rosalie laughed, waving flirtatiously at a man who peered in through the doorway, eyeing the pair.
"Oh, you did. I charged you extra for the dress." Joan laughed, nodding as she folded the dress in her arms.
"Smart. Well, it's been a pleasure to meet a shrewd businesswoman such as yourself."
"Could be more of a pleasure if you've got the time." Rosalie said, a glint in her eye that gave Joan pause. She opened her mouth to answer when she heard her name called out from the streets. Her name, not the fake one she'd been living under.
"Joan! My God, Joany, I can't believe it's you!" the man who'd been staring at them called, running up to Joan in excitement. She took in the officer, confusion clear on her face. She was sure she'd have remembered knowing someone in the Royal Navy! "It's me Joan, it's Matthew!" Joan took a step back in shock, seeing him in a whole new light now.
The bloody butcher's boy!
For a moment she was lost for words as he pulled her into a tight hug, and then, seeming to remember himself released her just as quickly. Joan shook her head, her tongue taking its sweet time to loosen.
"Matthew…what are you doing here? I thought for certain you'd be working for your father!" Rosalie, realizing there'd be no money made with them, took her leave with a wave to Joan. "Thank you!" She called out hastily, not wanting to be rude.
"The better question is what are you doing here? And what in God's name are you wearing?" He asked, looking over her shoulder inside of the brothel in disdain. Joan rolled her eyes, giving the man a small shove.
"I do not work here, Matthew Taylor." She snipped, folding the dress once more in her arms. "Though, if I did, I should think I'd be permitted to wear whatever I like." The man's shoulders slumped apologetically, shaking his head as he took a step forward.
"That's not what I mean, Joany, it's just…did you really do it? I thought you were dead, or taken, but the others in town, they're convinced you did it." He explained, a piteous expression on his face as he stared at her shorn locks. "What's happened to you?"
"Well, I…" she started, shifting her stance as she thought of how best to explain this. Yes, dear Matthew, it's true, I've run off and become a pirate. Under duress, of course. Oh, you don't care? You'll still see me tried and hanged for piracy even though you'd ask to marry me not eight months ago? Marvelous. The Royal Navy will be so proud. "I've landed in a bit of trouble."
"So, you did do it then?" He asked, his face falling.
"Do what, Matthew?" She asked in frustration. The sun was hanging high overhead now and though it was still early, sweat was starting to bead across her forehead. She needed to find passage to Nassau and this was taking far longer than she intended.
"Dr. Battie. They're saying you killed 'im." He answered, brow furrowed. "Saying you poisoned the man and ran off with his money! And after he'd been so good to you Joan, how could you?"
"You can't possibly believe that can you?" She asked in horror, fingers tightening on the dress as her thoughts became a whirlwind. She couldn't believe they thought she'd killed him, couldn't believe after everything she'd done in that house, the only thing she'd be remembered for is the one thing she most certainly did not do!
"Doesn't matter what I believe, Joan, they've a warrant for you arrest." She felt the blood drain from her face, her vision tunneling as everything she had dreamed and hoped for only hours ago fell away, like sand through her fingers.
"He died, Matthew. Apoplexy, I sent for the coroner! They came to retrieve his body, the only thing I took from that house were medical supplies and the clothes on my back I took no money. None at all! You must believe me."
"Well, why run off then?" He asked. "What need have you with his medical supplies? You're a maid." Joan's head snapped up at that, standing straighter now as righteous indignation filled her. A maid was not all she was! And she was not going to let a fallacy ruin any chance she had at making a life for herself! She wouldn't let anyone, not Vane, not Ridley, or Matthew or bloody London itself!
"He gave his word he'd act as surgeon on a merchant ship. He was trying to save Lord Ashby a terrible debt only…only it wasn't what he thought." She said, filling him in on as few details as possible. She certainly was not willing to mention she'd been on a pirate ship, that she'd been complicit in the hunting and raiding of a merchant vessel!
"You're not a surgeon, Joan, you're a woman! It's dangerous, you have no idea what could happen to a woman out there." He argued, standing straighter now, as if his sex gave him final say over what she was or was not capable of.
"I am quite aware of what could happen, Mr. Taylor, I assure you." She bit back. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jack and Ann slink of a general store, she assumed to try and trade whatever goods they could from their last prize. "And while yes, a woman I may be, Dr. Battie taught me very well, I am very capable of doing this job." The pair had obviously spotted her now too, watching in rapt fascination as she conversed with the officer. She needed to leave. She was quite sure they were thinking she was reporting everything that had happened and sending the navy after them at this very moment. She could feel Anne's eye's boring into her back just as intensely as the sun.
"Capable or not, Joan, you can't do this." He said, reaching for her arm, but she snatched it out of his grasp, taking another step back.
"Thank you, Mr. Taylor, It was go-I'm glad you are alive and well, but I believe we are quite finished here. Good day, sir."
Jack and Anne stood a bit taller now, the red head's hands resting on the swords at her hips while Jack cocked his head in interest.
"Joan, you don't understand." He tried again, grasping her arm for firmly than necessary and stepping up onto the porch of the brothel. "You have a warrant for the murder of Dr. Battie." Joan gapped, attempting to wrench her arm free. He was stronger than she remembered.
"But I told you, Matthew, I didn't do it. He died, and he wasn't poisoned, his heart simply gave out now let go of my arm!"
"If all this is true than you only need to give you testimony. You'll have a fair trial, I can promise you." He said earnestly, though his grip did not slacken. Joan laughed bitterly, pulling harder now.
"There will not be a fair trial, you can't believe that! They've made up their minds I've poisoned him, they'll hang me for piracy. I can't, I won't go there, I am innocent." Matthew drew up short at the word piracy. He pulled her toward the alley, the pair of them gathering too much attention and now he had her back against the wall as Joan still fought to free her arm, bright red now under his grip.
"Tell me you didn't. Tell me you're not." She strained her neck, looking for any sign of Jack and Anne but they were too far out of sight, the only thing she saw now was the whore house and neighboring tavern. He laughed, shaking his head, suddenly not as dull as Joan had previously thought. "Of course, it all makes sense now!"
"You're hurting me."
"I can't believe you'd be so stupid, Joan."
"Matthew, it was a merchant vessel, nothing more. Let go of my arm, please, I've got a bit of money I can give you. You just let me go, no one will know, and you'll be that much richer. And I'll go, I'll disappear, and you'll never see me again!"
"Attempting to bribe an officer now, are you? Is there no limit to what you will do?"
"Oh, come off it, you're hardly an officer." Joan sniffed, stilling now. His grip was too tight, and nothing would get him to let her go now, she should have never given Vane that knife back. Matthew's face reddened as he brought himself to his full height, chest puffing out.
"Joan Barclay, you are hereby placed under arrest for the murder of Doctor Albert Battie, thievery, crossdressing, bribery and piracy." Joan stood stock still, the shock rooting her into place. She was silent for a moment or two and then she burst into laughter.
"You always were quite the practical joker," She laugher, whipping a tear away with her free hand. "I'll admit, you did have me there, but of course you know that couldn't possibly be true."
"Ms. Barclay-"
"Very good, yes, now let go. A bit too far with the arm there, I'll be bruised now!" She continued, giggling her and there and she tittered on. But Matthew did not laugh, not betray any hint that this was all in fact, some great joke. "Well y-you can't actually be serious, can you?"
"Quite serious, Ms. Barclay, now if you'll come with me."
"I most certainly will not come with you!" She shouted, fury stoked anew as fought against his grasp. "This is absurd!" Matthew was yanking her toward the street now as Joan started shouting obscenities, the downright horrible kind she'd heard from the Ranger, all aimed at him. The man paled but did not falter, hand now clamped over her mouth as he hoisted her in his grasp.
This wasn't happening, not now! Not when she had been so close!
"If you'd be so kind, sir, as to return our surgeon, we'd be much obliged." A voice called out, the sound of a gun cocking as the man whipped around to face the threat, Joan still flailing in his arms. Rackham stood in the center of the alley, gun pointed at the man, Anne not far behind.
She could have cried, and had she not been fighting so hard to breathe against Matthew's sweaty palm she might have risked the tears.
"This woman is no surgeon, and she is now a ward of England where she'll be tried for her crimes. Her and any accomplices." He said in warning, glaring hard at Anne who took slinking steps toward him, swords at the ready.
"As she should." Rackham said, and then making a great show of mulling it over, raised his finger in contest. "However, good help is so hard to find, as I'm sure you well know, and the captain would have my head if I let another ship steal the only surgeon we had. You understand, of course." He apologized, the gun waving around with his hand as he spoke.
"I understand that you have just admitted to being complicit in her crimes." Matthew spat out as Rackham sucked his teeth and tilted his head, mouth moving as he silently recounted their conversation.
"Hmm, well than we are at an impasse then. You simply cannot shirk your royal duties, and I, in turn, refuse to be drawn and quartered by captain and crew."
"A lamentable position, though I imagine your loyalty to His Majesty, will see that justice is done."
"Well," started Rackham, drawing out the word as he aimed once more, when a loud smack had her falling to the ground, Matthews body crumpled next to her. She shuffled back in horror, eyes drawn up to where Rosalie stood above the man, iron pan held high and ready to strike again.
"Faster this way." She shrugged.
"Yes, well, that's certainly one way of doing things." Jack mused; his gun tucked back into its holster.
"What, in God's name are you doing here?!" Shrieked Joan still seated in what she prayed was mud.
"I believe, what you meant to say was 'Thank you, Mr. Rackham, for saving me from the noose! How might I ever repay you, Jack?' Oh, perhaps by getting the fuck back on the ship!" He spat, sparing another glance at the man on the ground. "We'll have to kill him." Anne nodded, pulling her sword when Joan stood to her feet.
"We cannot kill him! He's a member of the royal navy." She screeched, brazenly standing in front of the man.
"Oh, right, that changes everything then."
"I'm serious Jack, he's not some poor merchant on the water that no one will miss!"
"Well, what the fuck we supposed to do then?" Anne hissed, pushing off the wall and striding over to Jack. "I say we leave 'em here and we sort out this Ridley mess on our own."
Joan paused, Matthew a forgotten nuisance as she turned to face the pair.
"Well now, wait a minute, I thought that was sorted?" she asked, hands on her hips. Anne sniffed and Jack scratched the back of his head, discomfort evident.
"Yes, well…it would seem our Mr. Ridley has been discontented with the absence of our surgeon."
"I beg your pardon? It's not been two days!"
"He seems to think you've run off with our money." Jack winced.
"I bought supplies! I gave them to Char- Captain Vane yesterday evening."
"And he's been quite vocal about you up and running off with the rest of the sum."
"And how would he know that? He cannot possibly know the sum of it and I hardly think he would have the time to –"
"He doesn't know that madam, not for certain. Doesn't much matter because he's been rather vocal amount it. Spent all last night making the crew worried about such a thing and saying the Captain doesn't seem to be taking the matter seriously enough for Ridley and his lot's liking." Jack argued. "Charles' captaincy is on unsteady footing as it is, if the crew thinks he allowed you to steal from them…well, let's not think on that quite yet."
Matthew stirred on the ground and Rosalie thwacked him with the pan again.
"Yeah, alright, hit him harder next time and that'll solve that." Anne snarked.
"That solves nothing." Joan said, turning back to Jack with a sigh. "While the Captain's position is lamentable, I believe we were all came to the same conclusion that it is best I be off the ship and thus, no longer a distraction. It was a temporary anyway, and the conditions made under duress."
"Ms. Barclay, should you not accompany myself and Anne back to the Ranger, so as to dispel any rumors that may be putting our benevolent Captain at risk, you shall know the meaning of duress."
"Mr. Rackham I hardly think my presence would make a lick of difference."
"And while I'd love nothing more than to agree with you, madam, it does make a difference." Rosalie toed Matthews ribs, nodding in satisfaction when he snorted in response. "Regardless, a year was what you've signed on for, a year is what you'll give."
"I signed nothing!" Joan screeched. She never signed that contract, she had refused. "I'm not a pirate."
"'Course not." Anne sneered. "You just raided and pillaged with the rest of us for the sport of it, aye?"
"I didn't want to be a part of it, I was made to help and then I had to-"
"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much." Jack snipped.
"I am not a pirate."
"No," he said, holding in gaze in disgust. "But that doesn't much matter to our dear Matthew does it? He seems to think you are. And since you have forbidden any harm to come to him, what's to stop him from running off to the rest of his friends? You've now wounded his pride and he can't abide that, just as he cannot abide a wanted criminal being let loose upon the good people of this town. He'll come after you soon enough."
Joan ground her teeth, the truth of his words gnawing at her. Matthew was kind, yes, but unnervingly righteous, albeit a bit dim witted. He would not let this go…but could she allow him to be killed in cold blood? He'd done nothing wrong, not really, only what he thought was right. He had been kind to her once…
"I cannot allow you to kill him, not without cause."
"Of course, doctor. I suppose you'll wait right here for him to rouse then. I did see a pair of shackles, perhaps you'll latch yourself to this post just to help the ol' boy out. I'm sure the good king will listen to your tale and give you a good and fair trial." She paled, knowing that would certainly not be the case.
"Well…we just can't kill him"
"Then, pray tell what are we to do with him?"
"We could just…toss him in the street." Rosalie said with a shrug. "Make like he tried to cheat me my money." The trio stared at the woman in stunned silence until Jack tilted his head, mulling the idea over.
"Right, well done." He said, as if he'd had the answer all along and was simply waiting for someone to say it out loud.
"And I suppose you'll want to be paying me for cleaning up all this. And my silence." The woman added with a smile when suddenly Anne had her knife to the whore's throat.
"And I suppose I could cut your tongue out and then you'd be silenced forever." If Rosalie was frightened, she didn't show it, picking at a torn nail on her finger like it was nothing.
"You could," she said, "but then you'd have an out of work trollop and a nearly dead officer and that's just too many witnessed to leave around on a Sunday morning." Jack rolled his eyes, looking to Anne in exasperation.
"Then we just stick with the original plan and kill the lot of you." He said as Anne pressed the knife harder to the woman's throat, a small drop of blood beginning to bead on the metal.
"Oh, sure, and which one of you will be cleaning all that up then?" Rosalie asked, finger waving around between the trio before landing on Jack. "You? Like I said, it's a lot of work for a Sunday when all you'd have to do it pay me a generous sum for my troubles, and the nick to may hull, and you'd be on your merry way."
Jack heaved a sigh and pulled out the coin purse, glaring at Joan as he dropped each coin into Rosalie's waiting hands.
"What is she doing here, Jack" Charles asked, his eyes burning holes into Joan, but she would not meet his gaze.
"Solving our Ridley Riddle." Jack replied chuckling to himself. Joan said nothing, she wouldn't beg. There would be other ships that would love a surgeon to accompany them…but not so many that were going to Nassau…and not so many that were leaving now. Despite how much she detested this idea, Jack was right there was no other options. Still, she cleared her throat turning to look at the group crowded along the beach.
"This isn't solving the problem. This is added fuel to the fire. You think he's fucking stupid?" Charles laughed and with one more side eyed look at Joan, turned and headed toward the skiff.
"No, I do not in fact believe him to be stupid which is precisely why can't simply loose our surgeon." He shouted, chasing the captain. Anne tilted her head, following the pair and Joan took that as a sign that she should too. "He's already begun to stir up trouble all for the benefit of our dear Mr. Hammond, what do you think the crew would do if Barclay just disappeared? What would happen to us."
"I can't imagine they'd really notice." Charles said, continuing down to the skiff.
"Well, I think they should when one of them blows off their thumbs, Mr. Ryan is not as bright a gunner as he thinks himself to be, it's only a matter of time!" Charles said nothing but Jack continued. "And Hammond would make them notice. He would make them doubt your ability as a Captain if you not only failed to give them the ransom they wanted-"
" You failed to provide that to them," Charles bit back, not willing to shoulder the blame for that disaster. Jack ignored him.
"And failed to keep not one but two surgeons aboard his ship. It wouldn't look good for us, Chaz."
Charles stopped, nostrils flaring as he looked Joan up and down. She looked more a woman now than she had when he'd first laid eyes on her. This could not end well; it was only a matter of time before she was found out by someone other than Ridley. Someone who wasn't as daunted by her meager threats.
Still, there was a truth to Jack's words that he couldn't deny. He wasn't blind, he knew how tepid his captaincy was now. Any misstep, any sign of weakness and he'd be dead. Not just him, but Jack and Anne too…not to mention what would become of Ms. Barclay. His jaw tightened, not wanting to think of that possibility.
"Lock your fucking door." He seethed to Joan, and with that he turned and walked away, angrily kicking a bucket out of his path.
"Welcome back then," Jack said, lacking some of his usual brightness. "Let's hope no one missed you."
I know it's been such a long time since I've updated this, and I'm not sure if anyone is still reading but I hope so, and hope this chapter was worth the wait!