Honour Bright

Honour walked quickly away from the warehouse district heading back to the inn. Her thoughts were lost in a jumble as she remembered bits and pieces of overheard conversation. The plantation...the sale of El Lobo del Mar..guilders....secrets...secrets..more secrets... "Ooof!" She ran into a man who caught her by the arms. "Honour!" "Duckie!" "You alright?" She looked down at the ground and shook her head. When she lifted it up, Duckie saw nothing but distress in her eyes. "You look like you need to talk. Tell you what...I haven't had lunch and I bet you haven't either. So what do you say I pick up some bread and cheese and a bottle of wine and we go over to the grassy area over by the dock and spread a blanket down and just have a nice visit. Will that help?" She nodded. "I'd like that." Within a half hour, they were sitting on the ground. Duckie had his shirt sleeves rolled up and he was pouring a small glass of sherry for her. "Now..what is on your mind, Mrs. Wolfe?" "That is the problem." "The sherry?" "No. The 'Mrs. Wolfe' part." "I don't understand." "The more I find out about Jack, the more I realize I don't know who he is." "Well, you DID get married in a fever, as it were." "May I ask you a question?" "You can ask. Don't know if I will answer." She took a deep breath. "I heard music. Gypsy music. And it was coming from our room. I asked Jack about it and he denied hearing it. Later that night, I went to get out of bed and my foot hit something. It was a violin, old and worn, under the bed. Duckie, why would he lie to me? And what else hasn't he told me?" Duckie sighed. "Honour, Jack Wolfe has taken alot of blows in his life. He's done things and had things done to him the average man would fold up and crumble." "Where did he learn to play the violin?" He cut a piece of cheese off a wheel and handed her a piece along with some fruit. "In Lorient." "Lorient...France?" Duckie nodded. "Before he took the Mercedes as his own and renamed her El Lobo del Mar, he sailed under Captain Will Harkness. They was dry-docked in Lorient for two months while it underwent extensive repairs. Jack, being the scholar he is, ended up talking to a gypsy..his name was Reuben--and he was the chieftain. He invited Jack back to the camp and they immediately took a liking to him. So much so that he would go to their camp every night and sit around the campfire and even eat dinner with them. Reuben taught him to play the violin.. Jack learned old gypsy tunes at the feet of Reuben. Now, Jack was only about twenty-one at this time and he was a quick learner. When it was time for Jack to ship out, Reuben--being the emotional people they are--gifted Jack with a violin that was his grandfather's. Jack has cherished it ever since." Honour bit into an apple. "But why did he lie to me, Duckie? I would love to hear him play." Duckie cut off a slice of bread. "Because Jack is a private person. Ever since I have known him, he has a vulnerable side he won't show to the world. Jack IS a wolf. A wolf without a pack. He'd gnaw his foot off before he would show his hurt. And he always found solace in music. Says it helps him relax and think." Honour stood up and brushed the crumbs from her skirt. "Thank you, Duckie. And I'll keep this to myself." "I'd appreciate it, my dear. I am sure in due time more of Jack will be revealed to you. He finds it hard to trust. He's been dealt a few bad hands in life." Honour gathered her shawl and said, "I'm heading back to the inn. The last week has taken its toll on me and I'm tired. I'll see you later." As she walked off, Duckie looked at her retreating form. If there were anyone who was the opposite of Rose, it was Honour Bright. 'Honour, don't do it. Don't break his heart. I don't know if it can take another blow...' ~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Honour made her way to the inn where she and Jack had a room, she entered through the tavern door. Cade Jennings was having an ale with a few of his friends from El Lobo. He caught sight of her and rushed over to her, the pleasure of seeing her undeniable on his face. "Honour! How grand to see you! I thought you might be with--" he couldn't quite bring himself to say 'your husband'--"or shopping. Would you care for something to eat? Something to drink?" She shook her head no. "I'm a bit tired, Cade. I'm afraid that the crossing to Barbados took more out of me than I expected it would. I'm usually of sturdier stock but the battle and all that..." Cade touched her shawl and pulled it up around her shoulders. He said softly, "It wouldn't do for you to catch a chill, would it now?" Her hand accidentally brushed against his. She said softly, "I'll be alright." He brushed her hair back from her shoulder and said, "You always are a bit of alright, milady." "Cade?" "Yes?" "N--never mind. I shall see you around later, perhaps?" "I shall be here." She started up the stairs and turned back for a second. Cade was looking at her with a look of tenderness that Honour hadn't seen on a man's face in a while. She hurried back up the stairs. Hennessey and Dolan, the two crewmates that Cade had been sitting with, watched the exchange. Dolan nudged his mate and whispered, "Looks like maybe Bascomb and Teague weren't too far off the mark. Cade looks downright smitten." Hennessey nodded. "Just hopin' ol' Jack gets his ship ready to sail and takes 'er out o' here and away from Jennings. I like Cade. Don't want to see him run through." "Then let's be hopin' that it don't look like what it be lookin' to us." Cade came back and sat down. "Did I miss anything?" Dolan said, "Just the bleedin' obvious." "What's that supposed to mean?" "Nothin', Cade. Just...nothin'." Honour closed the door to the room she shared with Jack. The bed had been made and fresh water had been filled in the pitcher. She hung up her shawl and unlaced her bodice. She loosened the drawstring on her skirt and stepped out of it. Filling the basin, she splashed water on her face and then laid down on the bed. Her mind was in confusion. So many things about her husband that she didn't know. He knew how to play the violin. Expertly. He was a student at Oxford until he had to leave as the money for education had run out. What really happened between him and Mendoza to make them mortal enemies? She flung her arm over her eyes. Jack planned on buying the plantation. At least he was investing something from his plunder. As his wife, she would have a roof over her head, no matter what Jack was up to. Was he expecting her to be a patient little wife and walk the widow's walk with a spyglass waiting for her wayward husband to wander home? Jack was an enigma wrapped in a riddle. Whatever happened in his life shaped the way he is today. She wasn't ignorant of the fact that Jack was a very sensuous man. He proved that to her. Perhaps he just went to the bordello to tell a friend that he won't be coming back. She sighed. Duckie knew Jack in their youth. If he said Jack has a vulnerable side, then it was up to Honour to find it. To see if she could tap into it and salvage something of their life together. Because if she didn't...there was no hope for them. No hope at all. She rose from the bed and looked out over the torches that were beginning to illuminate the lanes. Jack would be back any time now. And Honour was determined to try once more. To salvage their life together. But Cade Jennings' tender look came unbidden to her mind. She quickly dismissed the thought. Her place was with Jack. And Jack alone.

"And over there is the Governor's house." Cade pointed to a large colonial house. "I've heard he has a very well-kept library." Honour looked over at the house. "And so near the center of town, too." She looked down the lane. "And what house is that with the two doors?" Cade shifted a bit, his face taking on a bit of a blush. "That's Madame Renee's. She runs a 'boarding house'. She's a good sort and contributes alot to the local economy." "Why the two doors?" "Well, one is for the townsfolk and respectable business and the red one is for...visitors." "Oh." She said quietly. "St Lawrence had them too over by the dock but they didn't mind if you used the same door." "Well, one of her business partners suggested it. Would you like to stop for a light refreshment? I know a place over on Broad Street." Cade was busy telling her about the goldsmiths and jewelry-makers in port to notice Honour's gaze back at the house of Madame Renee's. It was then that she saw a familiar tricorn hat at the red door. With an even more familiar face under it. She watched as a beautiful woman with long auburn hair touch the man's face and give him a kiss. The man patted his pocket and took the woman's hand and kissed it. Then he ran down the steps and leaped over the gate, a jaunty step to his walk. Yes, she'd know that tricorn anywhere. Because under it was her husband. She felt light-headed and Cade turned his attention to her. "...and they specialize in Brittania silver with gems as big as..HONOUR! Are you alright?" For a brief second, Cade thought he saw despair in her eyes but as quickly as he thought it was there, her blue eyes reflected a steely look. "I'm sorry, Cade. I think it was just a momentary feeling of light-headedness. It comes and goes." "Shall we sit down?" She glanced back to the retreating form of Jack. She drew the lavender shawl closer to her and took Cade's arm in hers. "I'd like that. And a cup of tea would be wonderful." Cade and Honour spent the afternoon in the bazaar where Cade showed her the merchants. They watched a goldsmith melt down ore and they stopped to observe a glassblower fashion a vase. There was merchandise from all over the world. Before they knew it, the sun was starting to dip down in the sky. "I'm sorry to have monopolized your time, Honour. The afternoon just slipped away." She leaned on his arm, looking up at him with her blue eyes and tossed her blonde hair. "I'm not sorry, Cade. I can't remember when I have enjoyed the afternoon so much." She had put her arm through his and for all appearances, they were a couple. He felt a warmth flood through him, totally ignoring the voice inside him that was saying, 'You stupid lout! That is your best friend's wife....' He walked her to the tavern door. "Best allow me to walk you to your room, Honour." She shook her head. "No, it won't do for you to be seen in my hallway. I am sure Jack is up there by now. I'll perhaps see you on the morrow?" Cade tipped his hat to her. "You can count on it." Honour drew him close to her in the shadows and reached up, drawing his face towards her. For a brief moment, they looked into each other's eyes. Cade couldn't be sure but did he see a glimmer of hurt in her eyes? She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Cade was drawn like a moth to a flame. He touched her hair as he drew her face closer to him. The kiss was like a spark catching fire. When they parted, he saw a touch of a blush on her face as she whispered, "Goodnight, Cade." And she turned towards the stairs. Cade stood there watching her ascend and then went out the tavern door. Teague turned to Bascomb and said in a hushed voice, "If I dinna see it wi' me own eyes, I'da not believed it." Bascomb shook his head. "The new Missus Wolfe an' Cade Jennings? Lord ha' mercy, Mad Jack will kill 'em both!" Teague replied, " 'e ain't gonna hear it from me. Whatcha goin' ter do, Bascomb?' Bascomb's eyes turned flinty. "Take it to Briggs and let him deal with it." They went back to their ales. Honour stopped at the top of the stairs and counted two doors down. She fumbled in her purse for the key when she heard a strange noise from the room. It sounded like someone playing a..violin? And not just any tune. But a gypsy tune. It can't be Jack..he doesn't know how to play a violin. As she put the key in the lock, she heard the music stop. Opening up the door, she saw her husband sitting there on the bed taking his boots off. "Ah, there you are! I was about to start searching the vendors for you. Where were you?" She hung up her lavender shawl, touching the fringe and not daring to look him in the face. "I was out seeing the sites. And yes, visiting the merchants." "By yourself?" "Yes. By myself." She hid her face to conceal the blush. "Jack, I heard music from this room." Jack shrugged, "Must be from the tavern across the street." "But...it came from here." "You're mistaken, Honour. What would I be doing with a violin?" "Who said it was a violin?" Jack grew quiet. "I just assumed it was. Guess I heard it too and never paid heed to it." He put his arms around her and kissed her. She felt herself holding herself at a distance. How could she confront him on where he had been? He would just lie to her... He unlaced her and her dress fell in a silken puddle on the floor. That night, as he laid next to her sleeping, she fought back tears. It seemed the tenderness was gone when they made love. Made love? More like Jack had used her. She vowed she would never let Jack Wolfe know how he hurt her. Married three weeks and he was already up to his old habits. She never denied him before. Why would he have to turn to another woman? Somehow...some way, Jack Wolfe...you'll be sorry. She sat up and wiped a tear away from her face. 'You'll be sorry you ever used me like a common strumpet, Jack. Just you wait....' She fought the sick feeling that came over her. She slipped out of bed and as she did, her foot bumped against something peeking out from under the bed. She bent down and pulled it out. It was a violin. Honour ran her hand over the instrument, it being well-worn and used. Like it had been in someone's family for a long time or had been lovingly played. She looked over at Jack sleeping soundly. 'You lied to me, Jack Wolfe. How many other lies have you told me?' She quietly slid the violin back under the bed and laid back against the pillows. Her stomach lurched at the fact that the man whose bed she slept in and made love with was a complete stranger to her. Was she just a commodity, someone for Jack to use? Suddenly she felt worthless. 'Some wives would just turn a blind eye to it, Jack,' she whispered. 'But not me..oh, not me. No one uses Rhiannon Conaway. Not in this lifetime or any other.' With that, she rolled over, taking most of the covers. 'Deal with it, Jack. Just...deal with it.' And she fell asleep.

Honour gazed around the room. It was simply furnished with a brass bed and a chest of drawers. A writing table stood in the corner with a candlestick and holder. Very sparse. She sighed. 'Not exactly the room we had in Castara Bay....I guess Jack forgot a woman is used to some of the niceties of life.' Bascomb and his men had delivered the trunks and Honour shook out a dress of rose pink. She stepped out of the dress she had on and filled a basin of water from the pitcher. As she looked in the mirror, she was startled at the face reflected back. Her face was drawn and there were shadows under her eyes. 'Just a rough week', she thought. 'I'm exhausted.' She thought how nice it would be to get into a decent dress and sit down to a table that wasn't rocking. Brushing her hair and letting it loose, she stepped into the dress and laced up a pair of boots. She looked in the trunk and saw something buried deep but the corner was peeking out. It was a lavender lace shawl. The gift left behind for her from Cade Jennings. She descended the stairs and walked into the tavern. Cade Jennings was sitting in a table in the back. He quickly rose when she walked into the room. Pulling the chair out, he said, "I'm so pleased you could join me, Honour." She gave him a smile. "It feels so good to be on dry land." "I see you found my present to you before you left." She touched it and said softly, "It is beautiful." "As is the woman that wears it." She could feel the colour rising in her cheeks. "What would you like?" Cade asked. "If you don't mind, I'll forego the ale and have a small glass of wine." Cade signalled for the barkeep and gave him their order. "Now...what happened?" Honour related how Jack was quite agitated before they left the port of Castara Bay. How he seemed to relax once the port was behind them. Relaxed...until the Mercedes came into the spy glass and all hell broke loose. The maneuvering of El Lobo. The battle. The sniper and Jack falling to the deck. She caught her breath as she related how she had to dig the musketball out of Jack's shoulder. "Cade, I was never so nervous in my life. Dr. Gander said I did an excellent job and that I saved his life with my make-shift medical skills. Jack guided me through it until he became unconscious." Cade took her hand and said solemnly, "Honour, you are quite a woman. Most wives would fold up at seeing her husband felled right in front of them." She blushed slightly and looked down. "I did what I had to do to keep my husband alive." Cade felt his heart drop a little at the words 'my husband'. How much easier it was to think of them as 'Honour' and 'Jack' instead of husband and wife. He cleared his throat. "And how is Jack recuperating?" Honour grew quiet and then picked her words carefully. "Dr. Gander kept him in the infirmary and dosed him with morphine because Jack was still in shock. He was trying to run the ship yet he was as weak as a kitten. Duckie said he needed to rest and replenish his blood loss." "Makes sense. Jack has always thought himself invincible as long as I have known him." She shook her head. "It--it's something else. I almost think that he wanted to be there. Like he didn't want to be near me. He's been curt and irritated with me and we haven't...we haven't.... my God ,Cade, we have only been married for three weeks!" she blurted out. She didn't need to finish the thought. No boots under her bed there, Cade thought. Cade took her hand in his. Don't worry, Honour. I'll be here for you. And for Jack." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bascomb and a crewmate named Teague entered the tavern of the White Hart. As was the habit of pyrates, they quickly scanned the tavern and tallied numbers mentally. Teague nodded in the direction towards the back. "Look'ee there!" Bascomb looked to see Honour and Cade in earnest conversation, holding hands. Bascomb narrowed his eyes. "Dinna waste any time, did she?" "You gonna tell the Captain?" "Not me. You know how he is. He'll string up the bearer of bad news." Teague shrugged, "T'will all come out eventually anyways...." Cade pulled the chair out for Honour. "Thank you, Cade. The stew and bread were delicious." He took her shawl and wrapped it around her, like a mother would her child. "Can't have you out in the breeze. For June it is a bit windy." She felt her face get a bit warm at the concern that Cade was showing her. Jack never really did. Jack was all enthusiasm. "Would you care to go for a bit of a stroll, Honour?" She thought for a moment and then broke out in a smile. "I'd love to. I lived in St Lawrence but never did get over to Bridgetown." He offered her his arm and she gently placed her hand on his arm. As they passed by, Cade nodded to Bascomb and Teague. Teague shook his head, "T'ain't right. T'ain't right at all." Bascomb lit his pipe. "Not much ye can do 'bout it. Everyone knows ye dinna mess wit' what belong to th' captain." "When he sees Jennings, his life ain't worth the powder to blow him away. Where you suspect Mad Jack be anyways?" Bascomb took the pipe out of his mouth and pointed it towards the town. "Cap'n always pays a visit to 'is Bridgetown lady." "Cap'n got a lady in town?" Bascomb chuckled. "Well, not a lady per se." "But Cap'n is a married man now. Got a right bonnie bride now. An' young." Bascomb shrugged. "Ol' habits die hard." They both looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Honour slammed the door to the cabin. "BASTARD!" she yelled out loud. To no one. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand and said to herself, 'Get a grip on yourself. Are you going to let a man see how much he hurt you? How much you care?' Honour looked out the window and saw Bridgetown get closer. Within a half hour, they would be docked. Almost mechanically, she started to clear the dresser drawer of her things and dump them into her trunks. The ship was so heavily damaged that it would be quite a while--if ever, if she had anything to do with it--before she would ever set foot back on El Lobo. She opened the armoire and Li'l Puddin' was laying on the shelf. She picked him up and gave him a gentle hug. "I think I'm going to miss you, Puddin'." He batted her nose as she felt the tears welling up in her eyes again as she laid him in her arms and cuddled him. "We're almost to port." She turned around and Jack stood there in the doorway. She continued to pack, not saying a word to him. "The ship is going right to dock and staying there. Everyone has been given shore leave. So I've arranged for us to take rooms at the White Hart." "Rooms? More than one?" "Not just for us. Cade Jennings is in port. I see his ship. It's been a standing arrangement that we stay there. I'll probably be in conference with Cade for the better part of the day. I have a few things to do before I leave the ship so you go on." "In Bridgetown? Without an escort?" "Take one of the crew if you don't feel safe. But as you are a former tavern wench, I should think you would feel comfortable walking through a port." His reply stung and she felt the tears come unbidden to her eyes. She willed them away. She'd be damned if she let Jack Wolfe see her cry. No matter how much he hurt her, she would never let him see her cry ever again. He turned to leave, his hand on the doorknob. "Honour?" "Yes?" He hesitated. "Never mind. I'll see you at the White Hart." She continued to fold her clothes. "As you wish." Bascomb, a crewmember, stuck his head in the cabin. "Mrs. Wolfe, ma'am, we be sent by the captain to fetch yer trunks." She closed the lid and locked it. "That's everything, Bascomb." "Lots of trunks, Mrs. Wolfe. You want to leave some on board?" "No." Her answer came a bit too swiftly. "I'll take it all, thank you." Bascomb nodded and motioned to the other two crew members to take her trunks. Honour brushed her hair out and wrapped her cloak around her. For some reason, the breeze was exceptionally cool for June. Almost as if it were a sign. An omen sent from...Bonita? She shook her head and said in a quiet undertone, 'Impossible.' Walking along the deck, she saw her husband directing his crew right and left, giving commands. He was almost back to the Captain Jack Wolfe she fell in love with. But something had changed. A slight change in his demeanor? But a change none the less. For a brief second, she caught his glance. Or so she thought. Maybe not. He kept giving instructions. Then she saw him walk over to Briggs and the two of them disappeared to the quarterdeck. Seh tightened the cloak around her and tilted her chin defiantly as she walked down the gangplank and towards the port. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Room for Captain and Mrs. Jack Wolfe." The innkeeper stared. "Ma'am? You just said MRS. Jack Wolfe?" She nodded. The innkeeper said under his breath, "Well, I'll be! Ol' Jack done taken the vows." He handed her the keys and then grinned. "Up the stairs, second door on the left." "Honour...um, Mrs. Wolfe? Thank God you are alright!" She turned to look into the face of Cade Jennings. His pleasure at seeing her reflected in his grey-green eyes and something else...relief? Concern? "Mr. Jennings!" "I was worried sick about you and the Captain. You were delayed over four days." ""We ran into a bit of trouble." "A BIT? I'd say El Lobo sustained extensive damage. What the hell happened, did you battle a Kraken?" "Just about. It was a Spanish ship named The Mecedes." "Mother of God! Captain Mendoza! Is Jack alright?" "Yes. It's a long story and I need to get to my room, Cade." "Then you can tell me over an ale in the tavern. Why don't you freshen up and I'll meet you down here in a half hour?" "I think Jack can tell it better than I could." Cade shook his head. "Jack would just candy-coat it. I want the unvarnished truth." He took her hands. "Please say you will meet me." She gave him a slight smile and said, "A half hour. I'll be here."

"Land Ho!" the watch in the crow's nest called out. Captain Cade Jennings leaned against the main mast, his eyes scanning the horizon. The ship he had engaged was nearing Bridgetown. He was following Jack's instructions to meet him. Cade sighed. It wasn't Jack that he was anxious to see. It was Honour. "Almost to Bridgetown, Captain Jennings," the quartermaster Robert Verro announced. "You are to meet Captain Wolfe?" Cade nodded. "Aye. He wants to go over some business concerning the Castara Company. Seems he is going to go into the sugar industry." "Sugar. A good commodity. He can export the rum he makes while in his various ports." "You don't understand. He intends to settle down in Barbados." Verro stared at Cade in amazement. "Settle down. As in give up the account?" "Hard to believe, I know." "Heard he also got married. She must have some sort of bewitchin' over him to get him to be settlin' down. What's next? Babies? Maybe even a dog?" Cade shrugged. "They've only been married for a few weeks, Verro. But yes, she convinced him that raising sugarcane and becoming Lord of the Manor would better suit his interests." Verro exclaimed, "Ne'er thought it would be that way with ol' Mad Jack. Thought he would die with his boots on and not under some tart's bed!" Cade's jaw set. "She's not a tart." Verro looked at his captain and a look of concern crossed his face. "Aye..well, um....I'll be gettin' the ship ready to dock, Captain." Cade looked back over the waters and said quietly, "Thank you, Verro." Robert Verro looked back again at Cade and shook his head to himself. "I don't like the feel of this. Not one bit. Looks like trouble brewing..." By mid-morning the ship had docked. The crew was given shore leave save a few that drew the watch. Cade headed towards The Bull and Bear tavern. Entering, his eyes adjusted to the light. Cade walked up and said, "O'Brien! Been a while!" O'Brien turned and squinted his eyes. "Do my eyes deceive me? Can that possibly be you, Cade?" Cade grinned, "Sure as I am standing here!" The tavern keeper clapped him on the shoulder and exclaimed, "Praise be! Ye have grown since I last saw ye a few years ago. Not so much in height but in face. Ye became a man!" Cade laughed, "Well, I've been a man for quite a while." O'Brien winked, "And I bet the ladies be glad of it! Any special one ye courtin' now, Cade?" Thoughts of Honour crossed his mind and he felt his face getting red. "No. No one in particular. So....where's Jack?" The tavern keeper drew his brows together. "Jack? Mad Jack Wolfe? Ain't seen him. But I heard tell he took the vows. And I don't mean as a priest, either. Rumour has it he went to Castara on a little honeymoon trip." Cade's heart skipped a beat. "Not here? But..but he left four days before me. And it was smooth sailing and calm seas! Are you sure? No word of them?" O'Brien shook his head. "Nary a one. An' ye know this is the first place ol' Jack heads when he is in port." He winked and added, "Well, maybe it will be now that he is married and..Cade! Where are you going?" But Cade never heard the question. He went outside, trying to catch his breath. His head was swimming. 'They left four days ahead of me. FOUR DAYS!' All of a sudden, Bonita's words came back to him. "It have already happened. If you care for dem, as you say, den you are needed. Go. Now." All afternoon, Cade made a few inquiries but no one had seen anything or any reports on El Lobo del Mar. It was if it had vanished from the face of the earth. But Cade continued in his efforts to find out anything he could. If they had been attacked, it would only be a matter of time--and soon--before some crew came in bragging how they had taken down the ship and its infamous captain. He tried to stem the rising tide of panic. Jack. Honour. Where WERE they? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sun was setting when El Lobo del Mar limped into the port of Bridgetown. Honour stood on the deck, wrapped in a cloak and watched as the ship drew near the port. She took a deep breath and thanked all above that she would be able to step on land once again. Her mind drifted back to the last few days..... "Duckie? Where is my husband?" Dr. Gander was coming out of the infirmary, closing the door behind him. He put his finger to his lips and said quietly, "Jack is in there. He was wandering the deck, checking on this and that and making a general nuisance of himself. I didn't fancy having him fall overboard so Briggs and I led him down here. I changed his dressing and then dosed him pretty well with morphine." "Was that necessary, Duckie?" He nodded. "You know how stubborn he is. This was the only place I could keep an continuous eye on him. I couldn't very well keep coming into your cabin, could I?" "But I could have taken care of him." He patted her shoulder and said, "I'm sure you could, Honour. But you need rest yourself. You've been looking extremely tired the last few days. It's better this way. Jack will heal faster and I can continue to put the salve in the wound and stop any infection before it starts and--now, don't look at me that way! I know you have only been married for three weeks but you and Jack have a lifetime ahead of you. Let me tend to him and I swear, you can have him when we get to Bridgetown." Duckie didn't have the heart to tell her that Jack requested a bed elsewhere. He knew how determined Jack could be. Honour reluctantly nodded in agreement. "May I see him?" "He's sleeping." "I just want to see for myself that he is alright." Duckie sighed and opened the door. She peeked in and saw Jack sleeping on a cot. "He doesn't look comfortable. If he was back in our room..." "Honour, please. Get some rest. You've been through things no gentlewoman should go through. Do you need any more laudanum?" "No. I prefer not to take anything, Duckie. But thank you." "I give you my word I shall keep you informed. But right now, Briggs is acting captain and Jack needs his rest to replenish his blood." He cupped Honour's chin in his hand. "You look tired and pale. Go. Get some rest." She nodded. "I will. But promise me you will take good care of him." "Upon my life I swear. And I shall report back to you. But right now you both need time to recuperate." "Thank you, Duckie." "Honour?" "Yes?" "Are you telling me everything?" "Why would you ask me that?" "It's just that you look like you don't feel well." "I'll be fine, Duckie. I just want to throw the covers over my head and forget that this ever happened." For the next four days, the ship limped along. Briggs did a magnificent job of keeping her from falling to pieces. The course was slow and steady. Fate looked out for them as they passed no marauders to prey on a vessel so damaged. Jack was kept in the infirmary. Honour only briefly saw him as Duckie didn't want any undue stress on Jack. Or on Honour. He felt there was a strain between the two but nothing he could put his finger on. They were polite with one another. But...something was wrong. Something was missing. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The cry 'Land ho!' went out while Honour sat at Jack's bedside. Duckie had let her stay about five minutes with Jack. When the cry went out, she rushed over to the porthole and looked out. "Jack, I see land! Oh, I see land!" The joy in her face was unmitigated. But Jack's eyes reflected something...something Honour couldn't quite discern. A....reluctance? He sat up when Duckie came in the room. "Jack, what are you doing?" He said, "I have a ship to dock." "Briggs has it well in hand. Give the man his due." Honour turned to Jack, excitement on her face. "Once we dock, we can go to Monsieur Picou's plantation and I know you will love it and then we can get a bank draft and--" "Good God, girl! Don't I have enough on my mind with the ship being a floating disaster? I need to see a shipwright as soon as we dock. I don't have time to worry about a plantation so I can fill it with whiny babies." Honour looked like someone had thrown cold water on her as her shoulders sagged. Duckie hurriedly said, "Jack, I'll stop the morphine now. You've been sedated long enough. Honour, would you please tell Briggs I need to see him as soon as he can?" She nodded without a word and walked dejectedly out of the room. Duckie whirled on Jack. "Are you out of your mind? Why did you treat her like that?" Jack replied, "It's just a small argument. She'll get over it." Duckie looked at his friend and then spat, "Jackass!" He turned and walked out of the room. On deck, he saw Honour standing there, her cloak swirling in the wind as the crew worked to get the ship ready for port. Duckie put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Honour, he didn't mean that." She said nothing but continued to stare at the land coming into view. He sighed. "Yes. Well. I'll see to other matters." He gave her shoulder a squeeze and walked back down the stairs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cade looked over the port of Bridgetown, his despair rising by the hour when he saw a familiar sight. Well, not familiar as the damage was considerable. But the figurehead of a snarling wolf was unmistakable. 'Thank God!' he breathed. 'They are home!'

Honour picked the pieces up from the crashed vase. 'Good! I didn't like it anyways, ' she thought. She picked up the largest piece and hurled it against the door." "DAMN YOU!" Just then the door opened and Dr. Drake Gander ducked down. "Whoa there, Mrs. Wolfe! Are you a one-man destroyer or will anyone do?" She felt her face flame red and stammered, "I'm sorry, Dr. Gander. I seem to have let my..fatigue get the best of me." Duckie soberly surveyed the 'situation'. "Let's see...it looks like Jack is now missing a priceless Ming vase from a pillage he did in '66. Spring, I believe it was. It was a ship heading towards Bonaire..." "I'm sorry, Duckie. I don't think I can do this anymore," she said softly. He took her hands and said, "What, Mrs. Wolfe? Cleaning up the shards? Changing the bandage on Jack? Putting up with a stubborn man who won't let himself rest and heal?" She felt a tear trickle down her face and Duckie handed her a handkerchief. "The life. Piracy. I am beginning to think that Bonita was right. She told Jack I wasn't one of them. That I didn' t have what it takes to be a pirate's wife. And I am beginning to wonder if she is right." Duckie sighed. "I was afraid it would come to this. Honour, I am hoping you will take Jack away from all of this. As good a pirate as he is, like all pirates I fear he will some day be on borrowed time if he isn't already." "Borrowed time?" Duckie nodded. "Did you know your husband attended Oxford, majoring in philosophy?" Honour was shocked. "No! Jack? Why, he is the most fearsome pirate in all the Caribbean!" Duckie nodded soberly, "Jack Wolfe is bloody brilliant. Anything he puts his mind to, he's successful. He left in his last year of school. Jack could have been a professor at any university in England." "But why didn't he finish school?" "His father died and the money ran out. His father was a shipwright. His brother is in the King's Navy and when Charles Wolfe--that's Jack's father--died, so did the business. Jack signed on with a merchantship and then was pressed into service upon a pirate's ship. He liked the ready cash and it was a way to support his mother." Honour sat down, astounded at the news her husband had been in Oxford. She knew he was smart but didn't know about this secret he kept hidden. He was also educated. It made sense. The books. The telescope he kept. The artwork on the walls of the cabin. Duckie sat on the bed next to her. "I think that you were heaven-sent, Honour. To try to redeem Jack from this life. You were meant for him. And he was meant for you." Honour walked over to the cabin window, looking to the sea. She murmured, "Duckie, if I tell you something, would you swear never to reveal it on pain of death? Promise on your hypocritic oath?" "Hippocratic oath, Honour." "Whatever. Do you promise?" Duckie raised his right hand and repeated, " 'What I may see or hear in the course of the treatment or even outside of the treatment in regard to the life of men, which on no account one must spread abroad, I will keep to myself, holding such things shameful to be spoken about.' " Honour looked at him and he replied, "It's part of the oath. It means doctor-patient confidentiality. It means I won't snitch. I can't. I'm not allowed." She stared at a space above the bookcase as if the answers to life were written there. Slowly she turned to face Dr. Gander. "Have you ever heard of Rhys Morgan?" Duckie nodded slowly, "I met him through Jack. A good man. A good pirate. Maybe even a bit better than Jack was, but Jack has now equaled him." She walked over to the window once more and stared out. "Duckie, how did Rhys Morgan die?" Duckie sighed. "He was having an affair with a married woman. From those that saw them together--I think it was only once in Cardiff for a week--she was a beautiful woman. From all accounts, Rhys was in love with her. And she was in love with him. She was married to an older man. Very unhappily. But one night the husband came home while Rhys was there. The husband ran Rhys through and the husband was found with a bodice dagger in his heart. The safe and all the jewelry--vanished! As did the woman herself. The sons of the husband vow they will not rest until they find Rhiannon Castlemaine." Duckie paused, although he had a suspicion. "Honour, why do you ask?" She lifted her head up to look into Duckie's tired eyes and whispered, "I am the woman to blame." Duckie hesitated and then quietly said, "I see." Honour looked at him with pain in her eyes. "I had to tell someone. What if I died and no one knew who I really was?" "Shouldn't it be Jack you should be telling this to?" She shook her head vehemently. "I can't. How do you think he would feel if he found out his friend died because of his own wife?" "He would understand." Duckie asked, "How did you meet Rhys?" "I would go up to the bluffs and write poetry. One afternoon, Rhys was up there sketching," she smiled at the memory. "It seems I am drawn to educated pirates. A pirate that sketches and paints doesn't depict a very fearsome pirate, does he?" She continued. "I was only seventeen. I was too young to be stuck playing Lady of the Manor. Madoc--my husband, Lord Madoc Castlemaine--was supposed to be sitting on the House of Lords in London. Rhys and I were about run away. I was packing and he had a carriage waiting. But Madoc's absence was a ruse. He had his spies. Madoc never was in London. He was nearby. Waiting like a spider. He ran Rhys through and then charged for me. I barely got out of the way and threw my bodice dagger. My aim was true. It was self-defense, Duckie--I swear it. I held Rhys as his life-force ebbed away. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I emptied the safe and then fled from Beaumaris. I took a ship to St Lawrence and assumed an alias." "Honour Bright. Unusual name." She laughed bitterly, "Isn't it, though? I think it was a private joke to myself. Honour Bright. A reminder to be true to myself. As 'honour bright' is a sworn oath of fidelity." She felt her eyes beginning to tear up. "Duckie, am I being unfaithful to Rhys' memory?" "How so, Honour?" "I loved Rhys Morgan with all my heart. I swore there would never be anyone else I would feel that way about. " She took a deep breath. "\But something went terribly wrong when I married Jack Wolfe. Something that wasn't supposed to ever happen." "What is that, my dear?" "I fell in love with him."

Honour stayed at Jack's side as he slept until exhaustion finally overcame her. She couldn't rid herself of the image of her husband falling to the deck. She'd gone through what seemed like a thousand "what if" scenarios in her mind. What if she'd stayed put? What if she hadn't distracted him? Was it really her fault that he was hit? Sleep took her at last, and gave her a bit of peace. Honour curled up in the chair, wrapped in a blanket. Her sleep was disturbed by a soft knock and then the gentle rattle of the latch being opened. She turned in the chair, facing the wall. "Mr. Briggs, really. No need to keep checking on Jack. I'm here and if you try to bring in any more food for me or rum for Jack, I shall barricade the door and be quiet and then you can just imagine we died in here. So in answer to your unspoken questions, 'No, Jack is not dead. Yes, he is sleeping. No, he can't have any more spirits. No, I don't want any food. And yes, you can let the cat back in here.' " "Let me see if I got all that," came a genteel voice. "Not dead, no more spirits, no food, and cats are welcome. Did I miss anything?" She bolted upright and stared at the stranger. "I'm sorry for startling you," the stranger said in an even, refined manner. "I'm the ship's surgeon, Doctor Gander. But you can call me Drake." Honour jumped up and threw the blanket down. "It's about time you got here. He could have died, you know!' Her voice took on a hysterical edge. The doctor smiled to himself a little. "Yes, I suppose he could, but you already told me he hasn't. So I'll take hope from that." He walked past Honour and sat on the bed next to Jack. "His colour is good, and his breathing even. I've seen him in worse shape. And I do believe I missed your name?" "Honour Br....Wolfe. Honour Wolfe." She shook her head and said mostly to herself, "I still have a hard time getting used to my name." "Most married women do." Honour looked out the port window. How could he possibly know that it was the Honour part and not Wolfe? She pulled her chair closer and sat down. "I'm sorry. My lack of manners is showing." "Quite alright. It has been a stressful day for all." He leaned close to Jack and examined the wound and dressing. "I wish we could have met under better circumstances, Honour," he said in his even, refined manner. "But your husband seems to have made that quite impossible. Now then, Master Briggs told me you're the one who treat him? I'm impressed. If you don't mind, where is the bullet?" She went to the dresser and pulled out a linen handkerchief. "Here it is. I thought maybe Jack would want to see it. It's bigger than I thought it would be." She unwrapped the linen and showed it to the doctor. His brow furrowed. "Those Spanish devils. They're entirely too good at the craft of maiming and killing, and fashioning the instruments thereof. Thank you, that confirmed my suspicion." He gently eased the dressing free from the wound. Honour covered her mouth as blood seeped from the hole in her husband's shoulder. "You may not want to see this, Honour," he said quietly. Deftly, he opened a small satchel and pulled from it some cotton wadding, which he saturated with a thick, pungent ointment. "A healing remedy I learnt from the local tribes of Cumana." He fed slowly it into the wound. "It acts as a coagulant and it speeds the healing process by days, if you can believe that. There. That should do him for an hour or so." Honour peered over his shoulder. "that is making my eyes water! Won't that sting him?" The surgeon leaned back and crossed his arms. "Except for his grey complexion, I've seen him prone and passed out before. But it's usually from one of his tom-catting wild times in ports from Havana to Hispanola." He suddenly remembered that Jack was now married and supposedly taken a whim of fidelity oath. "But that's a story for another time," he quickly added. "Tavern yarns, you can never believe them." "Oh, I've heard a few," said Honour. With a blush on her face, she murmured, "And probably contributed to a few of them." "Yes, well... The fresh dressing will be fine for an hour or so, and we'll change it out every four hours after that." The surgeon scowled and tapped his foot on the deck. "What aren't you telling me?" Honour asked. "What? Oh, no, no. It's nothing like that. He'll be fine. He's always fine, no matter the circumstances." "Forgive me for prying, but you seem... angry?" "Angry? Well. Yes. I am angry. Quite frankly, I'm angry with Jack. This isn't the first time he's gotten us into some insane battle, but is it him who's left to pick up the pieces?" Drake took a deep breath and exhaled noisily. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have vented that way." Honour could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, a combination of fatigue, adrenalin and the lack of food. She could barely nod her head as she whispered, "I'm so sorry." She felt light-headed and sat down quickly. Drake gently took her by the back of her head and pushed her head down towards her knees. "You look about to faint. When was the last time you had something to eat or drink?" She shrugged which was hard to do in that position. "I---I guess I really don't remember. It was some time yesterday. I haven't been very hungry. Nothing really appeals to my appetite." "You, young lady, are going to eat something." She shook her head. "I don't feel like it." He raised her to a sitting position. "A person can be wounded in more ways than the physical. You've endured and survived things today that no lady should ever have to. Aside from refusing food, how are you?" "I am exhausted," she admitted reluctantly. "As well you should be! I'll leave you something to help you sleep once I'm done here." "I almost got him killed." she whispered. "How do you figure that?" "He told me to stay here. I couldn't, and when he saw me up on deck, he turned away from the Spanish ship. That's when he was shot. If it weren't for me, he'd have seen the musketeer and avoided the fire." Duckie stepped closer and took her hands in his. "Honour, listen to me. It's obvious by gaping hole in the corner that you weren't safe here. And you say that Jack turned away from the ship when he saw you?" "Yes. It all happened so fast..." "Honour, if he hadn't turned when he did, that ball could easily have buried itself in his chest or his head. Thank God you were there when you were. Looks like you saved your husband's life twice today." He reached into the box and retrieved a small vial of laudanum. "This is to help you sleep. No more than two drops under your tongue. Now dry those tears and try to get some rest. We'll talk more later." As he picked up his satchel to leave, Honour's curiosity got the better of her. "Doctor, exactly why to they call you 'Duckie'? It doesn't quite make sense, especially given your last name." Duckie smiled. "This is a pirate ship, Honour. Not a lot of what goes on makes any particular sense. Some things take hold, and some go by the boards, and no one really knows for certain. Now, get some rest. I'll have some food sent down for you. You don't have to eat it, mind you. But staring at a full plate seems a bit silly, don't you think?" She nodded. "I'll do my best" Duckie paused with his hand on the doorknob. "As far as 'Duckie', that will be a story for another time." He winked as he left the cabin.

"JACK! OH MY GOD! JACK!" She rushed out from under the canvas and felt a ball whiz past her ear. Jacob Davis yelled, "GOT HIM!" Honour looked up in time just to see a Spaniard fall from the rigging of the Mercedes into the sea. She threw herself down on the deck next to Jack and cradled him in her arms. "BRIGGS! WE NEED THE DOCTOR HERE!" Briggs rushed over to see the blood on Honour's dress and on her hands. He ripped Jack's shirt open and saw where he had been shot. "Honour, he's been hit in the shoulder. Get him outta here and down to your quarters, NOW! The Mercedes is out for blood and Mendoza wants the Captain dead! Those damned snipers will take us all out if we’re not careful!" The blood drained from Honour's face. "But he needs the doctor. I don’t care what he’s doing. I need him here!" Jack came to and groaned. Honour patted his face. "Jack? Oh, Jack, my darling. You've been hit!" Jack managed to say, "Briggs, the ship is yours. Do whatever you have to do and get us the hell out of here. Have Duckie take care of the men." Honour looked over her shoulder and said, "You'll do no such thing! YOU GET THE DOCTOR AND YOU GET HIM NOW!" She was on the verge of hysteria. Jack whispered, "Get me below to our cabin, Honour. If I’m to die, I’d rather it be there." Briggs and Honour helped Jack stand. He collapsed against the mizzen mast. "Briggs, put that heaving hulk of Spanish manure to our rudder and get us away as fast as you can. Clap on as much canvas as you the masts will allow," he said as his knees buckled. To Honour he gasped, "What the HELL were you thinking of, girl? You could have been killed or worse had they boarded us. I told you to stay in the cabin and not to come out until I called for you." She started to cry again. "Jack, a cannonball ripped through the cabin. Muir is under the bed, and Puddin' is in the armoire. I panicked. I had to get out of there. I was afraid I'd be trapped or blown up." "BRIGGS! OVER HERE! I NEED YOUR HELP!" a man yelled in a distinct Londoner accent. Briggs draped Jack's arm around Honour shoulder and said, "You need to get him down to the great cabin. Make him comfortable, and I’ll send the doc as soon as I can." "But there's glass everywhere!" Another Spanish bullet whizzed by her head. "NOW!” he yelled. "Sweep the damned glass off... I'M ON MY WAY, DUCKIE!" Jack leaned on Honour and said, "Please, just get me down to the cabin, and we will sort things out from there." Honour supported Jack's body with her own as best she could with her small frame. He clutched his shoulder with a torn rag which was rapidly turning red with blood. She turned and saw the guns from the Mercedes belch out black smoke and hellish fire. Most of the shots fell wide, but the ones that hit burned images into her mind that she would not soon forget. Half-dragging her husband, she slowly led them back to the great cabin. Jack's complexion was turning ashen and he looked about to pass out from the pain. Bumping the door open with her hip, she was able to get set him on the chair while she shook out the coverlet with shaking hands. He grabbed another shirt and held it to his shoulder. It rapidly turned red and sticky with blood pumping out. Honour guided him onto the bed. He moaned, sweat running in rivulets down his face. Slowly removing the cloth, she gasped. The blood continued to flow out. Jack grasped her hand and said rasply, "You need to dig the bullet out." She paled. "Me? Jack, I know nothing about pistol wounds!" He was taking shallow breaths. "It's the only way. I'll talk you through it." "Why can't I run to the deck and get Dr. Gander?" Jack shook his head. "The wounded men come first. That is the code I live by. If you don't do this, you very well could be a widow by nightfall." Tears filled her eyes and she fought back the rising tide of panic. "But I'm afraid, Jack. What if I make it worse?" "The only way you can make it worse is hitting an artery. So don't do that." "But I can't. I have no medical training and...." He grasped her wrist and yanked her close to him. Her face was inches from hers. There was a look of determination and fire in his eyes she had never seen before and it frightened her. "I made you a promise. I promised you babies. I can't do anything about it when I am dead. Disregarding the tavern stories you may have heard about me, although death is the only thing that could stop me. I don't go back on my promises. Now listen and listen good." She nodded, fear in her heart. "Aye. I'll do it." He laid back against the pillows and said, "The shirt needs to come off." With trembling hands, she took her sgian dubh and began to slice through the silk. It laid in tatters. Jack said quietly, "In the cabinet there, get two bottles of whiskey." "Two?" "Aye. You have to anaesthetise and sterilise." She retrieved them and took the cork out. "Now fill a tankard up and help me drink it." She lifted his head up and helped him get it down. He coughed and groaned. "Honour, I'm going to need more periodically through this whole thing. So keep the bottle here. Now in the top drawer over there, you will find a small knife in a brown leather scabbard." She looked and there it was. "Good. Pour the whiskey over the knife to sterilise it." With trembling hands, she held the knife over a basin and poured it over the blade. "Now what, Jack?" Jack had been holding some cloth over the wound, compressing it. "It needs cleaned and then you have to dig for the bullet." Honour looked at Jack with horror-filled eyes. "I--I can't do this. I can't, Jack! I'll hurt you!" He yelled, "You think I'm not already hurt? This is the only way. Now give me another swig of whiskey." The cabin shuddered with the thud of a cannonball. Having taken a few more shots of whiskey, Jack closed his eyes and instructed her next. "Now...pour some of the whiskey into the wound." "B--but, Jack, that will sting!" He tried to focus on her face as the spirits were taking effect. He commanded her, "DO IT!" She jumped. He had never used his 'command' voice on her. She poured it on the wound. Jack gritted his teeth and said, "Now the fun part." "What? I can get Dr. Gander now?" He shook his head. "You need to insert a knife into the wound and find the bullet." "WHAT?" she shrieked. "Jack, I can't do that!" His wound started bleeding again. "Honour, if you don't, I most likely will bleed out and then it is over the side in a canvas sail and a cannonball for me." She took a deep breath and ran her fingers nervously through her hair. "You will talk me through it?" "Certainly. Just go slowly and listen to everything I say." She nodded wordlessly and sent up a prayer. "This is going to be the hard part for me, " Jack said. He closed his eyes and said, "You need to take the sterilized knife blade and insert it in the wound." Honour put her hand to her mouth and whispered, "There has to be another way..." Jack shook his head and said hoarsely, "There isn't. Good God, girl! You are the wife of a pirate. Have you not learned ANYTHING?" Tears fllled her eyes. Jack had never spoken so harshly to her before. "You need to work quickly. If I pass out from pain or too much spirits, I can't direct you. Are you ready?" She nodded. "Good. Now carefully insert it....AAAAHHH!" Honour felt a tear trail down her cheek. "I'm so sorry----" "Not up for discussion right now," he could barely get out as he hissed through this teeth. "You.. need... to... to find the bullet. You will feel metal on metal. Gently slip the tip of the blade beside the ball and use the tip to slowly roll the ball back up through the wound tract and then... then..." "Jack? JACK!!" He couldn't hear her. He was unconscious. After what felt like an eternity of probing, Honour felt a distinct scrape. Sweat was running down her back and she couldn't even brush her hair out of her eyes. If she lost the ball, she would have to start all over again. Mercifully, Jack was in oblivion. The ball slowly rolled like a cannonball on an uneven deck. Because the wound entrance was ragged, the ball wouldn't pop out. 'Oh, please, God,' she prayed. Jack was still unconscious. She could barely see the ball. There was only one thing left to do. She had to remove the ball with her fingers. She took a deep breath and carefully inserted two slim fingers into the wound track. She was thankful Jack was not conscious as she would never have been able to do it if he were looking at her with pain-ravaged eyes. Carefully grasping the ball, she extracted it. She sat back and held it between her fingers, dazed and surprised at the size of the ball. Hearing Jack moan, she realized he was coming back to consciousness. Honour took cloths and wiped his face down. He opened his eyes and groaned. "Am I... dead?" She felt the tears trailing down her cheek as she wiped them away with the back of her hand. "No, my love, you are quite alive. But Jack, the blood is starting up again." He took a shallow breath and said, "In the washstand below in the cupboard, you will find cotton. You need to pack the wound." "Shouldn't I get Dr. Gander to take a look?" "NO! The men come first. How many times do I have to repeat this?" She poured a generous amount of whiskey and held his head up so he could drink it. He laid back against the pillow and said, "You need to insert the cotton in the wound as far as you can. I-it's called packing the wound." She bit her lip and inserted it in with the blade and then continued until Jack said, "Enough. That should do the trick." He had passed out again. It was then that she noticed the bombardment had stopped and she could hear the ship as it cut rapidly through the sea. She looked out the hole that used to be the windows and could see the full moon shining on the waters. The acrid smell of spent gunpowder still filled the air. Honour washed his face and covered him up with a blanket. He was still ashen but his breathing had become slow and steady. She walked slowly out to the companionway as Briggs was coming towards her. "How is Captain Wolfe? Is--is he....?" Honour said shakily, "He's asleep and the bullet is out and..." Honour then made a dash to the rail and promptly got sick. Briggs stayed a respectable distance behind until she turned and said, "I--I'm sorry. I don't usually get sick." She then leaned with her face to the wall, her arm covering her eyes and she sobbed as if her heart would break. "It's all my fault. If I had stayed where I was told, he would have seen the sniper and he wouldn't be wounded. He just about told me I wasn't cut out to be his wife." Briggs, moved with pity for the young lass, took her in his arms and gently rocked her and awkwardly stroked her hair. She sobbed as if her heart would break. "Time and unforeseen circumstance, no more than that. Ye saved the Captain, Missus, and fer that the crew of El Lobo thanks ye."

Honour paced nervously within the confines of the great cabin. Jack seemed certain she would be safest there, but she felt trapped. Any time she'd been in danger before, she'd managed to find a way to escape and hide. Not this time. To make matters worse, she realized she wasn't afraid only for her life. She feared for her husband's as well. She tried to keep herself calm by focusing on the sounds of the ship; the creaking of timbers, the call of the crew as they worked the lines, and most importantly, the sound of Jack's voice as he directed what seemed like incomprehensible chaos. She slowed her breathing and tried to let the fear fall away from her, just as she'd been taught. A new sound interrupted the familiar pattern. Two dull thumps. Were they being fired upon? Had the battle begun? She braced herself for the worst. But instead of what she could only imagine as the sounds of battle, she heard laughter! Had that terrible ship broken off the chase? Maybe Jack had a change of heart and decided to run for Barbados and their new life together... The decking under her feet shuddered violently. Her ears rung with a thunder worse than any she'd ever known. In terror, she dove onto the bed and covered her head with pillows. "No, not like this. Not like this!" she pleaded. But the destruction she thought was imminent did not strike. She uncovered her head and listened. Everything seemed normal again, save the smell of freshly spent gunpowder. "We shot back? He's really going through with this madness," she said sadly. Honour sat on the edge of the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. She fought down the urge to get sick. Suddenly she heard a whining and scratching at the door. 'Muir! Oh my God, how could I forget Muir?' She ran to the door and flung it open. Her beloved companion practically leaped in her arms. Standing in the doorway was the ship's cat, Li'l Puddin, eyeing her balefully. She picked him up and cradled him. "Puddin', Jack would never forgive himself if you got hurt." The cat reacted nervously, trying to squirm out of her arms. She kicked the door shut with her foot. Muir was hiding under the bed. "That's the best place for you, Muir. You will be safe from any shells or balls under there. I just may join you." Li'l Puddin' paced back and forth, meowing. Honour tried to stem the rising panic in her. 'You've been through this before, haven't you, Puddin'?" Honour opened up her armoire and quick as a flash, the cat jumped in. Honour shut the door on him. 'At least you will be safe there, kitty." She sat on the bed again, touching her silver chain. 'Please, Mother, watch over him and keep him safe. This may be my last chance for happiness.' She tried not to cry. All her dreams of a new life in Barbados were going up in smoke. Literally.

She laughed a little uneasily. "Jack, I told you. My mother was a scullery maid and my father was a stablehand. She was only sixteen. Her name was Branwen. And she told me my father's name was Dafydd. I always liked her name. Branwen Bright. She told me she named me Honour because 'Honour Bright' is an oath of assurance and fidelity. After I was born, she stayed on in the household and raised me. I wore hand-me-down clothes from the daughters of the manor where she worked. They were benevolent but I was taught my place. Mother died of fever when I was ten. I remained on with the house and stayed until I was sixteen." "Why did you leave?" Her laugh had a hollow ring to it. "Because I refused to let the lord's son bed me. He cornered me one evening in the library where I was dusting the books and I racked him. And I left that night because he swore to make me pay. I worked my way as a tavern wench through the countryside and eventually ended up in Barbados. And that is where you found me." "When were you born and where?" "I told you the when but being a man, I guess you forgot. I was born April 4, 1644. So therefore I just turned 19. I was born in Llanwddyn, Wales. And that is all there is. An uneventful life." "Why did you go to Barbados?" She reached up and kissed him. "Have I ever told you that you ask too many questions?" He put his arms around her and drew her close to him. She knew that fire in his eyes. He whispered to her, "Then shut me up." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The moonlight shone through the louvered windows. Jack slept soundly next to her, his arm resting over her body. She carefully disentangled herself from his embrace. Quietly she arose and put her dressing gown on, wrapping it tightly around her. She peered through the slats and gazed at the moon. She told so many lies in her life she was afraid she was even beginning to believe them herself. 'Just who is Honour Wolfe?' Jack had asked her. How could she tell him that she was not Honour Bright Wolfe. How could she ever tell him that she was really Rhiannon Conaway Castlemaine? She laid her head against the window frame and thought back to her mother. That was one thing she didn't lie about. Her mother was Branwen alright. Lady Branwen Conaway. Wife of Lord Rhodri Conaway. Mother to four daughters, Rhiannon being the youngest. She did not remember the day her mother died. How could she? She was only three. She had heard that she ran from her mother in play. Her mother ran after her, slipped and hit her head on a rock by the pond, drowning because of the ensuing unconsciousness. Rhiannon lovingly touched the silver chain she wore around her neck and kissed it each night. Tonight she stood by the window and tenderly caressed it. It was all she had of her mother. Megan made sure she had something. Lord Conaway had adored his wife. And blamed Rhiannon for her death. She was always a headstrong little girl that when she took without permission Lord Conaway's stallion Goliath out for a joyride into the woods where there was quicksand, he decided to find a place for her. He surely did. The Order of St. Brigid. Her mind drifted back to her homecoming. Her father was having none of it. She remembered his words to her. 'You may stay here. For now. Until we can work out a mutually beneficial solution to this problem.' She shuddered at the 'solution' to the problem. Within a week, she was married to Lord Madoc Castlemaine. Bastard extraordinaire and known privately to Honour as 'Old Vinegar Veins'. Lord Castlemaine. A man who appeared to be an upstanding member of the realm but in truth was a cruel and ruthless man. Rhys Morgan was her saving grace. She glanced over at Jack sleeping so peacefully. Even with his checkered past, could he ever forgive her for what she had done? She had been the cause of Rhys Morgan's death. Rhys. Friend to Jack Wolfe. Friend to all he met. She fingered the chain around her neck as she reluctantly let her mind go back to that fateful night. It was supposed to be safe. The coast was supposed to be clear. Madoc was supposed to be in London. Supposed to, supposed to, supposed to..... Honour drew a deep sigh and looked over to her sleeping husband. She was beginning to think there was life after Rhys Morgan. True, she and Jack had a most unusual start to married life but he more she knew of him, the more he reminded her of Rhys. Until she no longer compared him to Rhys. Jack Wolfe stood on his own merit, second to none. She drew the covers down and slipped into bed quietly so as not to disturb her husband. He was half-asleep when he mumbled, "Everything alright, love?" She snuggled closer to him and put her arms around him. "Yes, darling." Or they will be. As soon as we settle in Barbados. And with that thought, she drifted to sleep.

"Honour?" "Hmmm?" she murmured drowsily. "Are you happy?" "Blissfully. And you?" She could feel Jack grin in the dark. "Need you ask?" He hesitated and then asked, "Honour....the others." "What others?" "The other men." She held him close and whispered, "Next to you, they could never hold a candle, darling." "Honour?" But all he could hear is her soft breathing as she slept. He stroked her hair but a small part of him wondered.... The next morning, she stirred and reached over for Jack. The space was empty. In a brief moment of disorientation, she bolted in the bed. She saw Jack quietly putting his boots on. "Wh-what are you doing, Jack?" "Getting dressed. I do that sometimes, when I have to be places. I can't spend all my time---" he pointed to the bed---"there." He moved over to her and embraced her. She kissed him on the neck and he disentangled himself from her embrace. "No, darling, it won't work. Not this time. This is a pyrate ship and I am a pyrate captain and much as I would like to stay, it just isn't possible." She flopped back on the pillows. "Even the cat deserted me!" "Aye, but only temporarily. Puddin' shall be back. It's time for breakfast for him. A nice juicy mouse smothered in cream and---" Honour put her hand to her mouth and turned a lovely shade of green. Jack said quickly, "Or most likely just a bowl of cream." "How many more days till we port, Jack? Are we on schedule?" He chuckled, "First time a pyrate ship has ever been run on a timetable. But yes, today is Tuesday, so we shall be in Barbados Thursday early afternoon at the latest." She snuggled back into the covers. "For that I shall be delighted. I know of a man--Monsieur Picou, that was planning on going back to France and wanted to sell his land and home. It's a French Creole cottage with a huge wraparound porch on all four sides and a pigeonierre and then there is a gazebo and it's painted white and--" Jack hurriedly kissed her and said, "Yes, yes, my love, whatever you want and now I really must go on the quarterdeck. It's my job, you know. There is fresh fruit in the bowl on top of the chest. Ta', love." He slipped into his frock coat and left before she even had a chance to tell him about the fireplaces in each room. Honour lazed about in bed for another half hour and got up only when Muir scratched at the door. He had taken Jack's shirt and dropped it at her feet first. She rubbed his ears and laughed, "Yes, Muir, he's a bit of alright, I agree. Now go find him. But don't get under his feet." She grabbed an apple and some grapes and looked around the room. For a pyrate, he certainly was tidy. She bit into the apple and regarded his chest of drawers thoughtfully. As she chewed, she continued to gaze at it. Just who ARE you, Captain Jack Wolfe? She opened the door and looked both ways in the companionway. No sign of Jack. She went back into the room and sat in front of the dresser, popping a grape in her mouth. She casually kicked the dresser. Well, maybe a bit harder than she should. Darn it, the drawer seems to be stuck. Well, I guess it would be the kind thing to fix it for Jack, yes? She took her sgian dubh and wedged it between the front of the drawer and the chest. Very delicately she slid it back and forth until the drawer moved forward. Son of a gun, it really DOES work! Assorted articles of clothing. Papers....PAPERS! She drew them out carefully and smoothed them out . A deed for land in Antigua...a deed for the tavern in Castara Bay...what is this? she wondered. She drew an oval object out. It was a metal frame with a hinged cover. She opened it and saw a miniature. It was a miniature of a woman. Honour gazed transfixed on the portraiture of this unknown woman. She had long curling brown hair and dark brown eyes. Around her neck was a delicate gold chain with a single pearl pendant. Honour looked closely at the woman's face. She had a patrician nose and a mouth that promised mirth. She held her head high, her chin in a determined tilt. A woman who had her place in the world and was satisfied with what she was, exuding confidence. But one thing Honour saw reflected in her eyes. The woman had the look of a woman in love. Honour had seen that look on women before. That gleam in their eye that no one could ever deny. She wondered if she ever had that look people noticed when she was with Rhys. Did she have it now? She looked up at the mirror over the dresser. And what she saw startled her. Because undeniably, there it was. That gleam. Honour looked further in the drawer and came across a small cedar chest. She opened it with great trepidation. Inside was the gold chain with the pearl pendant. And a small gold ring.

Honour spent the morning going through her chests and putting a few things in the chest of drawers. She hung up a few dresses. The rest stayed in the chests. 'No sense unpacking when we shall be leaving the El Lobo. And hopefully for good.' she thought. Jack came in with two bowls of beef stew and bread on a tray. "It smells marvelous, Jack. I didn't realize how hungry the sea air can make one." "It's the cook's...HOLY HELL!" At that moment, Li'l Puddin' decided to take a flying leap off the chest and landed right in the bowl Jack had just handed Honour. Beef and gravy went flying everywhere----on the bed, on the floor and all over Honour. She sat there, her hands dripping gravy off the ends. Gasping for breath, she shook her fingers, drops of gravy staining her dress. "PUDDIN'!!!" Jack yelled. All that could be seen was Puddin's tail as he dashed out the door. Honour was at the washstand, pouring water into the basin and using a towel to clean off the spots on her dress. Jack was picking up the crockery and scooping up the beef stew with a spoon. "He really didn't mean it, darling." Jack apologized for the cat. He heard a sound coming from Honour, her back to him. "Honour? Honour, don't cry. When we get to Bridgetown, I'll buy you a new dress." She turned to face him, tears running down her cheeks. She sat down on the bed and gasped, "That had to have been the funniest thing I have seen in a long time, Jack!" It was then that he realized the tears were not from distress. She was laughing so hard she was crying. Jack chuckled, "Aye, well, I guess I can still afford to buy you the new dress." Jack spent the rest of his day on deck, conversing with his men, consulting his maps and giving directional orders. Honour spent the afternoon playing with Li'l Puddin', reading a book and throwing a ball for Muir. She looked out the port window and saw nothing but water. "Muir, when we get to Barbados, I'll make sure you have plenty of room to run. I know it's not much fun for you on a ship." "Woof!" "I couldn't agree more!" She laid down on the bed, Muir sleeping on the floor next to the bed. Before a few minutes had passed, she was asleep herself. Cautiously, the cat crept back in. He climbed onto the bed and stared at her lovely face. Li'l Puddin' batted a strand of her hair on the pillow, then began to knead. He kept kneading and kneading..... It was dark out when Jack finally came into the cabin. He smiled down at his young bride curled up and fast asleep. There on the pillow next to her, with his tail curled around her face and under her chin was the ship's fearsome cat. "You traitor! Are we now competitors instead of co-conspirators?" he whispered affectionately. Puddin' stretched out as if to welcome Jack into the vacant space next to his bride. Jack gently kissed Honour and stroked her hair back and then he had to laugh. Her hair was a knotted mess. "Oh, you wicked kitty! Looks like you attempted to give Mrs. Wolfe a new hairstyle!" Honour stirred and then woke up. She smiled and said, "It's about time you got back here." She sat up and stretched and ran her fingers through her hair. "What the....?" He laughed, "It looks like Li'l Puddin' has decided your hair needed a change." She walked over to the mirror and reflected back was tangled and snarled. "I didn't even feel him do that. I must have been really tired." She opened the dresser drawer and took out a comb. "Ow! Ow! Ow!" Jack walked over to her, put his arms around her and reached over to get a brush out of the drawer. He led her back to the bed and gently began to brush her hair. "Mmmm...Jack, that feels wonderful! You can brush my hair anytime." "As you wish, my sweet." "Jack?" "Yes?" "Tell me a bedtime story." "Oh?" he smiled devilishly. She threw her dressing gown onto the chair and slid into the bed. As he lowered his lips to kiss her, she put her finger to his lips. "First things first, husband of mine." "And that would be...?" "Tell me how Puddin' got his name!" "A bedtime story story then. How could I possibly resist?" he teased. Honour propped herself up on her pillow and snuggled into the covers. She stole Jack's pillow and hugged it. "Tell me positively everything!" she said with childlike excitement. "Don't you dare leave anything out, not one bit!" Jack quietly marveled at her ability to be a confident, worldly woman one moment, then playfully childlike the next. The latter was a quality he had lost from himself long ago. "Fine, then. 'How Lil' Puddin' Got His Name'. Chapter One," he intoned loftily. Honour giggled. "We had put in at Nevis after another successful cruise..." "Oh, not another boring pyrate story," she sighed teasingly as she whacked him with his pillow. "Oi! Pyrate cate, pyrate story. Now hush. Where was I?" "A-pyrating," she said through a mock groan. "Ah, yes. Nevis. We'd gone ashore to celebrate our good fortune and spread some of our newfound wealth." "On drinking, gambling, women of dubious-" "Have you always been this talkative during other people's stories? Remind me never to take you to the theatre. May I continue, or do you still have a few things to add?" "Oh, all right. I'll behave. But I won't like it," she pouted, her eyes full of mischief. "Whatever shall I do with you, Mrs. Wolfe?" "Hurry up with the story and you'll find out, Mr. Wolfe." "That's all the incentive I need." He laughed and leaned close to kiss her, and she stopped him by gently poking her finger in the middle of his forehead. "Ah! The story?" "Aye, the story," he sighed. Honour hugged his pillow and rested her chin on it. Puddin' peeked over the pillow at her, then laid down at her side. "We were walking back to the ship sometime after midnight.. "Of course," she quietly interjected, stroking the cat behind his ears. "... when, as we passed by an alleyway, we heard a sound like a baby's cry. It was so clear and insistent that we decided to see what the matter was. We soon found ourselves at the rear of a tavern or something like that. Someone had set out a large pail of pudding to cool in the night air, and a tiny, hungry kitten had discovered it and fallen in." "Heavens!" Honour said worriedly. Puddin' rolled onto his side and lazily batted at her fingertips. "The little fellow could scarcely keep his face above the pudding, and he was too small to climb out. Would have been a goner if we hadn't happened along. So I pulled him out of his predicament, wrapped him in a kerchief, and he ate pudding all the way to the ship. Wee beggar's belly was so swollen with what he'd eaten, he scarcely put up a fuss when I rinsed him off. He's had a taste for anything with cream ever since." Honour laughed as she sat up. "Such a wonderful story! And you," she said, scooping Puddin' into her arms, "are le chat extraordinaire!" The cat laid back in her arms, purring loudly. He opened one eye and gave Jack a ridiculously self-satisfied look. "Um, Honour?" "Yes, my husband?" "You're doing it again. The cradling thing." "Of course I am! He's got your nose, after all." "Aren't you the clever one, darling. I'd swear he's got your ears." She shot Jack a surprised look, then set Puddin' down on the bed. "Run along, baby. Momma needs to teach your father some manners." The cat hopped down, crossed over to the table and jumped up on it. He laid down facing the bed with his paws crossed. Honour pulled back the covers and patted the bed. "With an audience? Have you no shame, woman?" "I married a pyrate, didn't I?" "Good point."

Honour gently laid her hand on Jack's arm and took a deep breath. The salt air seemed to revive her somewhat and calmed her nerves. Certainly it seemed to do that to Jack. He put his arms around her and she laid her body against his. "How soon before we are in Barbados, Jack?" "Four days unless we catch a really good wind. Then we may make it in three." She murmured, "The sooner we get to Barbados, the better I shall feel." "Did you say something, love?" "Hmm? No. Just...thinking how much I missed home. I'll check on the land as soon as we get settled into port. We can stay at my room for a few days until we decide where we want to live." "Why not just stay on the ship when we port?" "Under the watchful eye of Briggs and your crew? Jack, we have only been married ten days. The room at Castara Bay was delightful, no one to bother us." "Or hear us." She blushed and laughed lightly. "Well...that, too." The two of them stood in silence, watching the island of Tobago fade into the distance. Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Never thought I'd be that happy to put Castara Bay to my rudder." Honour turned to look at her husband. "Jack, you need to tell me what it was that haunted you so. What happened out there while you were fetching Muir?" Jack lied, "The Spanish Crown's agents were spotted and I know there may be a small price on my head. I just wanted us to get out of there as fast as we could. Cade would know how to handle them. After all, to all of Tobago, Cade Jennings is just an innkeeper." "Do you think Bonita would turn you or Cade in?" Jack looked over the horizon and shook his head. "She hates Spain even more than I do. She would never turn any of us in, no matter how much she ha--no matter how much they offer." Just then, Honour felt something entwine around her legs and jumped. She looked down to see Li'l Puddin'. Jack laughed, "Ah, there is Mister Briggs' favorite furball!" Honour bent down and scooped up the cat and cradled him in her arms. She subconsciously started rocking him, back and forth. Jack looked at her and said, "Honour, what are you doing?" "Hmm? Nothing. Why?" He shook his head. "Is it an instinct with all you women? You get a little thing in your arms and you start rocking it like you had a wee bairn or something." "I didn't realize I was doing that." "Aye, well, don't! You make me nervous with that--that maternal whatever you call it." Li'l Puddin' looked at Jack through slitted eyes and buried himself deeper into Honour's embrace. Muir sat next to her with a quizzical look on his face. Jack reached down and scratched him behind the ears. "She's not ignoring you, boy." Honour put Li'l Puddin' down. He spied something and ran off to catch it. "Jack, I'd like to go to our room and unpack a bit." Jack looked over and saw Briggs standing by the quarterdeck. "Aye, by all means, darling. I shall like to confer with Briggs anyway. Point of direction, ship's business, all that rot. You go on, I shall be there in a bit." Honour watched her husband walk over to his best friend and clap him on the shoulder. The two of them walked off. She turned to her best friend and said, "Shall we go, Muir?" He ran ahead of her, seeming to know where they both belonged. She looked and saw that her trunks were stored in a corner. She opened the first one and there on top was something she didn't recognize. It was a lavender lace shawl. "Oh.....MY!" she gasped. She carefully picked it up. A note fell from its folds. In appreciation for a lovely morning chat. Your humble servant, Cade A. Jennings

I'm amused! Except I can't quite get into Steampunk!

I had fun with it!

Bonita unlocked the door to the room that Jack and Honour shared. She stood there, her hands on her hips. Surveying all, she felt feelings of anger and resentment well up in her. Honour's silky finery was scattered all around the room. A pair of Jack's boots were cast under the bed. The dresser had a vase of wildflowers. The bedcovers were thrown back, showing rumpled sheets. Honour's scent of jasmine was in the air. Bonita picked up something lacy that laid on the floor. She stood in the center of the room and closed her eyes. Clutching the fabric to her forehead, she whispered, 'Montrez-moi ! Montrez-moi où elle l'a des charmes cachés...' The French doors suddenly flew open, banging into the wall. The curtains blew and rippled into the room. Bonita's skirt whirled around her like a dervish. She opened up her eyes and strode to the dresser, her hands out in front of her. She walked around and suddenly she stopped in front of the trunk that Honour had brought on shore with her. Bonita knelt down and ran her hands over it. She smiled to herself and tried the lock. It would not give. "What the hell are you doing in this room?" She whirled around and came face to face with Cade. She assumed a lofty attitude and said haughtily, "Jack leaves his room a mess. I do my job. I clean it." "Since when?" "Since he marry dat child-bride of his who ne'er clean a room in her life. Tavern wench? HA! You not think Bonita not know something not right there?" "Bonita, your jealousy is getting the best of your judgement." "Dat were you be wrong. I show you. Come downstairs." Cade reluctantly went downstairs with Bonita. She took him over to a table in the corner and she lit two black candles. Cade asked, "Wh--what are the candles for?" She just shook her head and the candle's flame reflected in her eyes, her pupils on fire. She said, "Sit." He did so with great trepidation. She withdrew a deck of cards and laid them out. "I be using these since my tia Elena give them to me. Always de same. Always when I lay dem out, dey read the same." She turned a card over and exclaimed, "Look!" She turned over the Lovers card. She said bitterly, "Always her. Always dat child bride. It be a temptation of de heart. A choice of potential partners. A single lifestyle be sacrificed and a relationship gained or one partner chosen while another turned down. Heed dis well, Cade Jennings! She make a choice in de future but it not made lightly. Like Adam and Eve, the Lovers card mean impulse dat drive us out o' de Garden. Curiosity. Well, she be curious 'bout Jack's life. Once she have stepped passed de threshold, there be no returning to the Garden." Cade shook his head and said, "Bonita, I'm sorry but no card can read what is going on in a person's mind." She arched her eyebrow and said, "Fool ye be, Cade Jennings. I return to de deck. And look!" She turned the next card and came up with the Magician's card. "Dis be Jack's card. Always have been the card of Captain Jack Wolfe! See here. Dis card point to talent, capabilities and resources. Its message tap into one's full potential rather than holding back especially when dere be a need to transform something. Dere be choices and directions to take. He may be a beneficent guide, but he not necessarily have our best interests in mind. He may also represent the querent’s ego or self awareness. He also represent the intoxication of power, good and bad." Cade stood up. "Bonita, you are making this up as you go along. It can mean anything you want it to." She said darkly, "You stay right dere, you be next, Cade Jennings. Den maybe you believe Bonita!" She slowly turned over the card. Cade could not take his eyes away and stared in disbelief. "A...devil? What does THAT mean?" She gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Ah! Now de young pup o' dat wolf want to know what de devil card mean!" She leaned forward and hissed, "It mean our bondage to material things rather any evil person. It be an obsession or addiction to fulfilling our own earthly base desires. It mean money and power, one who be persuasive, aggressive and controlling." Cade laughed uncomfortably, "You must be mad, woman! That fits Captain Jack Wolfe. Not me." She then leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms and said, "De Querent understand dat de ties that bind are freely worn, and you be only enslaved if you allow de abuse to go on." She delivered the final barb. "You, Cade Jennings, you. YOU! You be de snake in Jack's little Garden of Eden." Cade stared at her. His arm swept across the table, scattering the cards all over the table and onto the floor. He put his face inches from Bonita's and whispered hoarsely, "You damned witch." He turned on his heel and walked out the door, the laughter of Bonita following him out the door. It was near dark when Honour and Jack walked up the slope to the tavern. "Ooof!" "Jack! I--I'm sorry. I didn't see you there." Jack said, "Cade, where are you going in such an all-fired hurry?" "One of the ships docked and I have to see what they have netted on their 'fishing expedition.' From what Captain Parnell said, it was a successful trip. Spanish wine, some Belgian lace. Silks from Persia. And there is a rumour that the captured ship's hold contained alot of Aztec gold." Jack clapped him on the back and said, "Then get to work, Cade. I must say, I do have every faith in you. In spite of my riding you unmercifully." Cade looked at Jack and saw the captain did have a look of pride on his face. Cade felt miserable and guilty in view of what Bonita had just predicted for him. Impossible! A snake in Jack's Eden? Never! Cade looked over at Honour. She had her arm linked in Jack's. Her wet hair hung down her back and a few tendrils around her face. She was barefoot and carried a basket. Her chemise clung to her damp body. She smiled at him but he could sense there was a wistfulness in her that became apparent. Like there was an underlying distress. She said softly, "I do hope we shall see you in the morning, Captain Jennings, before we leave." His face turned red and he said, "I shall make it a point to say goodbye." Jack looked from Cade to Honor and then back to Cade. He said, "Then off you go, Cade. See you in the morning." Cade tipped his hat to Honour and said, "Ma'am." Jack put his arm around his wife and said, "I swear, sometimes I just can't suss him out..."

I loved those books as much as my kids did. We would read them out loud and discuss what we would do and debate the outcome and then look to see if we made a wise choice.

The next morning was cool and overcast. Jack awoke to find Honour still curled up, clutching the covers. He was concerned over her taking ill so suddenly. Something was amiss, but no simple answer presented itself. Quietly, he rose and closed the window to keep the chill from her. The gentle click of the latch was enough to wake her. She opened her eyes, and immediately noticed the look of concern on his face. "Good morning, darling. How do you feel?" he asked. She put on a cheery smile, trying not to think about Rhys or Jack's friendship with him. "I'm feeling much better today. Really. It was silly of me to go without eating like that." "All the same, I would just as soon have you rest today. We'll be setting sail for Barbados tomorrow, and you'll need your strength for the passage. It wouldn't do for the captain's wife to be weak from the vapours, now would it? I'd hate for you to be off your game when the opportunity to irritate Briggs presents itself," he smiled. "Jack, really. I'm fine. The last thing I want to do spend the day on a beautiful island cooped up inside! You know how I love the sand and the salt air. Please?" she pouted. "As usual, I can deny you nothing," he sighed, as he began pulling on his clothes. "But grant me this; take your time getting up. I have business with the ship that should take no more than a couple of hours. I'll have a tray of food brought up so you can eat and dress at your leisure." "You're not sending up that horrid woman, are you?" "I promise, I'll have one of the servants come up. Anyone but Bonita." He fetched a dressing gown from the armoire and laid it on the bed next to her. He leaned close and kissed her lips tenderly. "I'll be back as soon as I possibly can. Josiah most likely has everything in order, but I need to inspect it myself." "Hurry back, darling," she smiled. "And tell Josiah I've had a wonderful time buying trunks and crates of pretty things he'll need to find room for!" Jack laughed and blew her a kiss as he closed the door. As he descended the stairs, he looked about the tavern for a servant, but none could be found. He shook his head and set about filling a tray with fresh fruit and meat. Finally satisfied with the selection of food he'd selected, he started up the stairs just as the front door opened. In walked Cade, who gave his mentor a bemused look. "Have you added serving wench to your many titles, Jack?" "As a matter of fact, Mister Clever Arse, I was just fetching my wife a bite to eat before I go check on the ship. But since you're just milling about this morning being cheeky, do us a favour and run this up to her. I'm late enough as it is. Josiah begins to act like an old spinster then." Cade took the tray, with a slightly puzzled look on his face. "Aye, Jack. See you in a bit." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Honour stretched out on the bed and then grabbed the dressing gown that Jack had left next to her. Arising, she slipped her arms through it, drawing it close to her. She padded over to the French doors and opened them up, inhaling the sea air. The sea was in a tempest, almost as if it were angry at someone. The waves crashed down on the shore and the sky was grey. Everything took on a less-than-friendly air. She sighed and closed the door, shivering. Maybe there won't be the opportunity to go to the shore before we leave. So what do I do? Go downstairs and hang around the tavern? Bake apple tarts with Bonita? The thought of the woman sent a chill through her. 'Nonsense!' she said in an undertone. Honour pressed her forehead to the window and peered out at the palmetto tree that she had decimated with the rapier. She couldn't believe the ferocity with which she attacked it. Her survival instincts had taken over just as they had that night Madoc arrived home and caught her with Rhys. Just as they had that night she faced Jonas Corwin as he attempted to exact his vengeance from her. Rhys would have been proud of her swordsmanship. Swordswomanship? 'Whatever,' she thought. A knock was heard at the door, startlng her out of her reverie. She rose quickly and cautiously opened the door, half expecting to see that witch Bonita. "Oh. My goodness, Mr. Jennings!" She instinctively wrapped her dressing gown closer to her. "Good morning, Mrs. Wolfe. I seem to have been the one pressed into service to deliver your breakfast. Your husband was late in his duty to his ship and as I was the only one in the tavern..." Honour gave him a smile and said, "Please! My manners seem to be lacking. Do come in!" Cade came into the room. "Where would you like this?" She took it out of his hand and said, "I'll take it right now. Foolishly I forgot to eat since breakfast yesterday. Please, won't you have a seat?" Cade sat down, a bit nervous he was in a room alone with Captain Wolfe's wife and she was in a dressing gown. But sit down he did. Who was he to refuse an invitation? Honour helped herself to a peach and some grapes. She offered a pomegranate to Cade which he took. "Mmmm! I just love peaches! And fresh biscuits, too." "Bonita made those this morning." Honour reluctantly put it back. "I think I shall pass on the biscuits. If she made them, there may be ground glass or arsenic in them." Cade laughed. "They are fine. In fact, everyone in the tavern had some this morning." "Then I shall help myself to them. But if anything happens to me, be sure and tell my husband that it was the biscuits!" Cade couldn't help but smile at the light-hearted way that Honour had. She looked so young with her hair tied back in a blue ribbon, tendrils framing her face. Her dressing gown was of sky blue and she was barefoot. Her dimpled smile was infectious and she made Cade feel at ease. If only she wasn't married to... "... and I hope to come back to Tobago really soon. Hello? Mr. Jennings?" Cade snapped back, his face blushing. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wolfe. You were saying...?" "I was saying that I was really sorry about the palmetto. I guess I got carried away. Will you see that the tree gets replaced? For Jack?" "I certainly shall. For your sake." Honour's smile wreathed her face, and she said, "Thank you, Mr. Jennings. You are a dear." "Please. 'Mr. Jennings' sounds so formal. Call me Cade." "Very well...Cade. If you would return the courtesy and call me Honour. 'Mrs. Wolfe' makes me feel like Jack's mother. My goodness, will you look at the clock on the mantle! I've been sitting here chatting for an hour and keeping you from your work! And I should get dressed and make some plans. I want to plan something special for Jack, seeing it is our last day here." Cade picked up the tray and said, "Aye. I need to finalize plans for the smu---I mean, for the trade that Jack has outlined." Honour laughed and said, "I know a bit about it, Mr...Cade. It is smuggling, pure and simple. After all, I AM married to a pyrate!" Cade caught himself staring at Honour's brilliant blue eyes, and felt the heat rise in his cheeks. She was easily the most beautiful and radiant woman he'd ever seen. And she was the wife of the man who'd he come to look upon as a father-figure. How could he covet his mentor's wife?! "Aye, ma'am. That you are. I'll be running this tray down for you. I hope you have a wonderful time here, what it being your honeymoon and all. I'll be leaving now." Cade offered incredibly clumsily. He retreated, only to catch a glimpse of Hounour framed in the light from the window. He paused and shook his head before descending the stairs. 'Alright, Cade, so she's beautiful,' he muttered to himself. 'Quit acting like a schoolboy.' He crossed over to the tavern's bar and shoved the tray across its surface. "Dance in your mind, does she not? Tempt you, don't she? Make you want her, no matter de consequence? D'at be her evil, that which already consume Jack, and make you doubt him." Bonita hissed. "Already you plan, in d'at dark heart you hide away. You plan to take for your own! D'at way lie darkness. But you already set you feet d'at way, so I not try to dissuade you. Have her, you will, but at a price you not want to face. De price be you immortal soul." "Bonita, you are talking nonsense, as always," he retorted. "She's a lovely woman, yes. But she is also Jack's wife. Everyone knows that a captain's woman is untouchable and this isn't any different." "Jack have his own fate, and she play dearly into it. He toss Bonita aside, for d'at child! He not know what he cast away! He be know as the greatest pyrate what ever sail. Pah!! He no longer worth my favours. You! Bastard child what he call his 'next in line'! Your mentor, and him grand design... distance yourself. D'at woman? Your death, it lie with her. Not that I can stop you. Not that I can stop any of you. It be what it be," she laughed hollowly. "Fine. But the bottom line is, Bonita, that you are consumed with jealousy. Don't deny it--the green-eyed monster had gotten the better of the great voodoo queen. You need to take all these issues up with Jack and kindly leave me out of it. And I'll not have you spreading any of your 'theories' or as I see it your vicious lies about me, thank you very much." He turned and quickly walked toward the door. But when he paused to look back, Bonita was nowhere to be seen. It was then that he heard Honour's door open. She was singing sweetly to herself. Cade found himself smiling as he closed the door to the tavern behind him.

Honour laid there contentedly, her arms wrapped around Jack, her blonde hair trailing across his chest.She gave a satisfied sigh. He kissed the top of her head . "Are you feeling better now?" She looked up at him and nodded. "I am sorry. I don't know what possessed me to attack the tree like that." "You yelled out, 'bastard'. I must inform you, darling, that my parents were lawfully wed." Honour blushed and buried her face for a moment in his chest. "It wasn't you. I-- I don't know what it was about. I'm just glad I didn't hurt you." "Honour," he said gently, "What happened? Who is the bastard?" She took a deep breath before she began to weaver her lie. "I was walking near the Varlet and Vixen when I landed in St Lawrence. As I neared an alley, a ruffian grabbed me from behind and dragged me in the alley. He had a knife. I guess when you advanced towards me, the memory came back. But I feel better now, " she laughed shakily. "I think it was a catharsis for me." She reached up and ran her fingers gently through his hair, smoothing it away from his face. "I can guarantee it won't happen again. And to be sure, maybe you should keep sharp pointy things away from me." Jack touched her cheek, a look of worry on his face. "That must have been terrifying for you. I hope you weren't hurt by him. Or is that where the scar came from?" Honour self-consciously covered up the faint crisscross of scars over her chest. She couldn't meet Jack's eyes. "I--I didn't think you would notice." "I notice everything, love. It's a handy talent in my line of work. Though with someone as exquisite as you, my attention is tenfold." He gently touched her chin to turn her face back toward his. "Don't worry. The scars don't diminish your beauty one iota. But if the bastard hurt you beyond that, I'd be interested in squaring the score." She gently took his hand away and kissed it. "I couldn't even begin to tell you what he looked like. It was dark. But no, he didn't hurt me beyond that. Amos came to my rescue just in time. That is how I started working at the Varlet and Vixen. He offered me employment. I stayed there until I found something better." "And I guess you never did." She moved up and kissed his neck. "I surely did. A full time occupation as Mrs. Captain Jack Wolfe." "I must warn you. The job entails cooking and cleaning....among other things. Do you think you are up for the position?" Honour smiled slyly. "As long as the other things outweigh any cooking and cleaning duties, I think I might be interested." Jack grinned, and kissed her playfully. "Look what you've turned me into, Honour," he laughed. "The happiest man who ever lived. And a married man at that! If only an old friend could see me now. He would never believe it." She raised her head. "Is it that hard to believe? Everyone gets married---eventually. And you are happy right now because you got to...you know." "Show my appreciation for you? Yes, that always makes me very happy. But as far as marriage goes--that was never in the plan. Besides the cliche of a captain being married to his ship, that is. Everyone, including myself, had me pegged as the eternal bachelor." Honour propped herself up in her elbow."Someone broke your heart once, I'll bet. A Spanish senorita? A countess? Maybe even a voodoo queen?" He made a sour face at the voodoo queen remark. "Very funny! Now whatever gave you the notion I had a heart to break? I'm a pirate, remember? I'm supposed to do all the heartbreaking. It's in the rules." Honour rolled over and stretched her arms over her head, then smiled sleepily at Jack. "I know quite well you have a heart. I hear it beating really quick when we...." Jack quickly kissed her. "So, Captain Jack Wolfe.....care to enlighten me with a bedtime story?" "A story? Of fortune and treasure? Or of past misdeeds?" She ran her finger down his chest. "I want to hear about your friend and why he would be surprised you took the vows." Jack gave a wistful sigh. "He was a good man, and a good friend. The best. He saved my skin on more than one occasion. I only wish I'd been able to repay that debt when he needed it most." Honour gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean? Is he in prison? Or is he...?" "He's dead, love. And I couldn't help him." She laid her head on his chest. "I'm so sorry, Jack. Was it small pox? Or a hurricane? Oh,don't tell me he died in a duel. Or was it a mutton?" "Mutton?" "You know. When they take your ship, put you on an island with only a gun, one bullet and a bit of water and sail away yelling 'Adios mi amigo.' " "Mutiny." "What did I say?" "Mutton." She pouted. "Alright. Was it a mutiny?" He played with a curl of her blonde hair as he thought back to his friend. "Not a duel, exactly. But it was a fight over a woman. Quite senseless, really, and I warned him of it too." "Well, don't leave me in suspense. It's not fair." "He fell in love with another man's wife, and got caught with the goods, one might say. I told him to forget her, but he was determined to whisk her away." "He sounds like a romantic man. But you make it sound like love is a foolish thing," she frowned. "No, not at all. I'm all for someone going after their heart's desire. But sometimes, the prize is on too high a pedestal." "Maybe she was worth it. Maybe he was so in love with her he would have moved heaven and earth to be with her," she murmured, a far away look in her eyes. "Now you're starting to sound like him! That's just the way he spoke of her. But even so, trying to steal away the wife of a powerful man like a lord is no small undertaking." He shook his head. "I swear, you Welsh can be so headstrong..." Honour could feel the blood leave her face and she fought to keep her voice even. "A--and what was the name of this friend of yours?" "Rhys Morgan of the Neptune----Honour! Are you alright?" She jumped up and ran to the privy closet. He got up and knocked on the door. "Honour! Are you sick?" She came out looking pale and tried to give him a smile. "I--I'm sorry. I must have gotten sick drinking brandy on an empty stomach." He guided her back to the bed, covering her up with the quilt and putting his arms around her. "Well, suffice to say Rhys would find all this quite funny, with me married and all." Honour took a deep breath and forced herself to ask the question. "And... and the woman? Whatever happened to her?" "No one knows. Story is, one of the man's sons came home to find him stabbed through the heart. Rhys' body was there, too. The safe was emptied, but the woman was nowhere to be found. Gone, like she'd been taken by the wind." Honour curled up with her back against Jack, fighting to keep the tears from her eyes. "I'm really tired from today. I think I need to sleep." He said, "I guess you have had a full day. Goodnight, love." She barely whispered, "Goodnight." Moving over to face the French doors, the tears began to trace down her face. She buried her face in the pillow, hoping her body wouldn't be wracked with sobs. A wound she thought was healing had been torn open again. She prayed that Jack would never find out the truth. That she was the woman to blame.

Honour Bright has no ballad. She prefers to be burned into the memory.

She gave him a faltering smile. "I am alright now. Really I am." She looked over at the tree, then cast her eyes down. Her shoulders sagged. "The tree....not so much so." She looked back at Jack, pain in her eyes. "I--I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to....to..." With that she turned her head so he wouldn't see the tears filling her eyes again. Jack took her in his arms, and gently stroked her hair. "It's all right, love. Plenty more trees where that one came from." He eyed the tree, still not believing the ferocity with which she had attacked it. "But I think we're done with weapons training for today," he said. She nodded slowly and started to rise. Jack took her arm and helped her up. "That beautiful tree...'she said remorsefully. "Don't worry your pretty head over it, love. The monkeys will find somewhere else to play." The first heavy drops of rain began to fall. "Here, you go on back to the tavern before you get drenched. I'll be along in a moment." But before she could answer, the skies opened in a downpour. "Jack!" she said over the thunder. "I need to get that sword." Rain poured down her face, mixing with the trace of tears. Rivulets of rain ran down her back. "I'll get it for you, Honour," he answered. "You just get inside!" Honour hesitated for a moment, then ran towards the tavern. Jack waited until she was inside before he turned back to the tree. "I don't know who she thought you were, mate, but I pity you. And him." Jack took hold of the sword's hilt, and put a boot heel against the tree. He shoved the tree as hard as he could while he wrestled to free the lodged blade. Suddenly, the sword popped free, sending Jack reeling backwards before falling in the sand. He watched as the tree slowly twisted where it had been gashed, its bark and wood splitting noisily as the tree sagged to the ground. Getting back on his fee, Jack held the sword up, looking from it to the tree, then to the tavern where Honour had gone. A mixture of worry and disbelief played across his face. There was something dark Honour wasn't telling him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Honour quietly opened the door to the tavern, hoping against hope that the queen of voodoo was nowhere to be seen. She shivered as the storm blew the tavern door open and then slammed shut, jumping at the unexpected noise. In a panic, she ran outside to see where Jack was, the overwhelming need to be held by him more than she could bear. She saw him trudging up the path, rain pouring off the brim of his hat, his silk shirt plastered to his chest. She couldn't stand it another moment and ran to him, her face lit against the background of a flash of lightning. "Honour, are you daft? Get back in that room!" She looked like a frightened child. He grabbed her arm and led her into the tavern great room. "I--I was afraid. It was almost as if something sinister was in the room." She shrugged and laughed in a shaky voice. "I guess I was a bit spooked." He glanced over to the countertop and saw the two coconuts slashed and hacked to pieces. "Let's go upstairs and get into some dry clothes. If I'm with you, then no hobgoblins will dare pester you," he said as they climbed the stairs. "How are you feeling now?" Jack hoped he could keep her attention, she wouldn't see the ruined coconuts. "Wet," she shuddered. "And a bit foolish. I don't know what got into me out there." That was a lie. She knew full well what had happened. For just a moment, she hadn't seen a tree. She had seen Madoc and Corwin, somehow horribly fused into one monstrous entity. Her instinct to survive took over from there. In their room, Honour wrung out her hair over a basin and Jack had taken off his wet clothes and had put some dry breeches on. Opening up a cabinetl,he pulled out a bottle. Pulling the stopper, he filled two glasses with the amber liquid. "What is this?" "It's brandy. A little something to take the chill off you and relax you." She gratefully took the glass and sipped it. A shiver ran through her body as the alcohol coursed through her veins. She tried to will her hand to stop shaking. Closing her eyes, she murmured, "Just what I need on a night like this." She walked over to the French doors and looked out over the courtyard where in a flash of lightning she saw the hapless tree lying there. In the brilliant light of it, the palm took on the shape of a man lying there....just lying there. Thunder crashed and she dropped her glass, shattering it against the floor. Jack took her in his arms and eased her away from the window. "Easy now, love! That's it, just follow my lead." He took his wet breeches and threw them on top of the broken glass. "I'll clean that up later. The brandy was supposed to calm your nerves, not make them worse. Dear lord, you're shaking like a leaf!" "I-- I'll be fine," she said halfheartedly. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes and get you warmed up," said Jack. He smiled and looked into her eyes as he unlaced her bodice. Honour shivered, but not from the cold this time. He was giving her something much more pleasant to think about. Jack looked up into Honour's eyes and what he saw startled him. It was the completely trusting look she had. He loosened the drawstring on her skirt and it fell into a puddle of silk at her feet. Jack felt his pulse quicken as he tenderly pushed her wet hair away from her face. "You must have been a very beguiling child, Honour Bright. I can almost see you come up for air after diving into a pond," he said softly. Suddenly a reminiscence came unbidden to her mind. The memory of a girl on the verge of womanhood.The thunder...the lightning....the rain outside a cave. A dress of butter yellow and the arms of a pirate she loved from long ago. The wet chemise slipped to the floor as she put her arms around Jack and whispered, "Just love me...one more time..."

"HELP!" Captain James Blake looked around. "HELP!" A coconut bounced onto the ground and rolled at his feet. "HEY!" he shouted. "SORRY!" He looked up. "What are you doing up THERE?" "I'm stuck, what do you think?" He chuckled and shielded his eyes. "Honour Bright, you get yourself into the most unusual predicaments!" The voice from up the tree yelled, "IT'S MRS. WOLFE! AND HELP ME GET DOWN!" "Wait right there, I'll be up to help." "Where am I going to go?" James deftly shimmied up the tree. When he got to the palm fronds, he burst out laughing. "HOW on God's green earth did you manage THAT?" Honour was hanging there by her lacings which had caught on the back of two fronds and she was swinging free. She said tightly, "Just get me down without dropping me on my----" "Alright, alright. Let's see....just move this lace that way...and that lace this way....now hold onto the fronds so you don't drop....oh, dear!" "AHHHHHH!" Honour was thrown to the ground and landed on a pile of the fronds. "OOOF!" James climbed down and jumped the last five feet. He bent over into a bow. "I trust you had a soft landing. No broken bones?" he asked as he helped her up. She checked all over and said, "No, I seem to be in one piece." James said quietly, "Good. Your husband would not be pleased and would probably run someone through out of temper." "Surely you jest, James. He's very loving and wonderful to me." James stopped in his tracks and looked at her incredulously. "And have you ever wondered why he is the foremost revered pirate in the Caribbean?" She shrugged and said, "I didn't know that he was." "He's absolutely brilliant. His campaigns are a success and his pillaged holdings are beyond belief. Some say he gets inside information and is blessed by unconventional means." "What do you mean?" "Word around the ports is he has help of a supernatural kind." "James, will you PLEASE stop speaking in riddles?" He sighed and said, "Some people say Bonita is a witch. A voodoo practitioner and Jack is the recipient of her wisdom." She burst out laughing. "Voodoo? Bonita is nothing but smoke and mirrors!" James shrugged, "Just repeating what I hear." They walked on the shore in silence, Honour picking up a few shells. James broke the silence and said, "Why did you go off with him? Why not wait for me?" "You never asked, James. And we didn't know each other long enough." "How long did you know Captain Jack Wolfe?" Honour's head was down and she whispered something. "What, Honour? I didn't hear you." She brought her face up and her face was blushed. "I said, 'five hours.' " "Five hours? Am I hearing right or did you say 'days'?" She said hotly, "I couldn't help it. It's something that I--we----can't explain!" James smiled wryly, "I must say you held out for the top dog, as it were. Tell me, Honour---is the reason you married him measured in millions?" She raised her hand to slap him but he caught her hand and raised his eyebrow. "Did I touch a nerve, love?" She jerked her hand away. "I told you. I can't explain it. And I shouldn't have to." James looked out to the sea. "I did come back, Honour. Amos told me you had gone away. Someone in your family was ill." "What? I have no family." "That's what I thought." "When was this?" "Back in February. I know because I had just come back from a meeting with your husband. He had a business deal for me and I turned him down. You want to know why?" Honour picked up the shell and turned it over in her hand, letting the sand run through her fingers. "Because you had other pressing business?" "You could say so. I came back to St Lawrence to find you." "Me? But I..." Her voice trailed off. She unconsciously touched the faint scars where Corwin had dragged his sword across her chest. "Oh...February. Yes. Well, I was visiting family. My....my sister came into town and I spent the day with her. Yes. That had to have been the day." James looked toward the horizon. "It could have been us...." his voice trailed off. Honour sighed. "Amos. God bless him, he went and made a decision for me. And damn him too." James turned to her, a wry smile on his face. "Think we could have made it work?" She shook her head. "James, it was too soon. My fiance had died." He stroked her cheek. "I would have taken you around the world, Honour." She touched his hand and gently removed it from her face. "No, James. You say that now. But if you really wanted to, you would have taken me then and there. You left me with a bolt of sky blue silk and a lovely memory." He shook his head. "I couldn't get you out of my mind. You invaded my daydreams and haunted my nights." She turned away from him."This isn't fair. You can't leave and then come back whispering these confessions and expect me to tell you it is alright and expect more." She held up her hand, the emerald ring glinting in the sun. "This. This is what is tangible. A lover's promise never came with a maybe." She looked up and saw the darkening sky. "Looks like rain. I'm heading back. You can walk with me if you want to but no more chastising. No more 'what ifs' and 'why didn't yous.' This is now a closed subject. Married I am and married I am staying." He said, "Till death do you part. Well, as you wish, Mrs. Wolfe."

The morning sun streamed into the room. A gentle breeze carried in the perfume of a myriad of tropical flowers. Jack stirred and woke to find that he and Honour had barely moved from the way they'd held each other after making love. He smiled and gently brushed a strand of golden hair from her face. She drew in a soft waking breath and smiled, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. "You've got that look in your eyes again, Jack Wolfe," she whispered. "And what look is that, darling?" "That look of wanting to lie abed with me, but knowing that duty calls." "Oh, that look! Am I that transparent?" "As Italian crystal," she smiled, and kissed him softly. "Go. Play captain and I'll join you later. I still need a bit of rest after last night. I've never seen a man with such stamina." "As you wish, darling. But mind you--if I come back and find you still in bed, I'll be obliged to join you." Honour pushed him away playfully. "Keep dreaming, you tarry sailor! Out of my bed! Go! Go and make us rich!" They laughed and talked as he dressed. They kissed once more, and he opened the door to leave. "Oh, Honour, did I mention that there are scorpions on this island?" "No, you never did. I think I'd remember such a thing," she replied worriedly. "Yeah, well, just the same--be careful. I'd hate for one to crawl into bed with you." Honour yelped and threw the covers off, and jumping up on the bed looked for any unwanted guests. "Ah, there's that freckle that I love!" Jack laughed. Her eyes grew wide as she realised he'd played a prank on her. "Oh!! That's it! Out with you!!" she laughed, and threw a pillow at his head. Jack ducked out and closed the door, smiling happily. As he walked down the stairs, he saw Cade and Briggs sitting at a table looking over some charts and papers. "Well, well! The last time I saw him this chipper, we had a full load of swag in our hold and a burning Spaniard to our rudder! What brings you down from Heaven, Admiral?" Cade joked. "I wanted to make sure your new commission hadn't gone to you're head, Captain, sir!" Jack quipped. He looked around the room, and noticed something was amiss. "Oi, where's Bonita? I'm starved." "I saw her walkin' down by the shore early this mornin'," Josiah replied. "Damned if I know what that wild woman be up to, nor where she intends to do it." "Fine. She's been right moody of late. No matter. Cade, fetch me that bowl of apples, if you please." "Pulling rank, are we?" Cade asked. "Damned right, and step quickly! Honestly, Josiah, why did I ever promote him?" "What, like ye ever ask anyone before ye go and do it?" "Good point. Ah, thanks, mate." Jack bit into a juicy red apple before continuing. "Now, gentlemen. Down to business..." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Honour laid in the bed, smiling inexplicably. Well, alright, so she knew why she was smiling. But she couldn't quite figure out why she should be feeling so exceptionally... content. She closed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head, yawning. Leaning over the side of the bed, she looked under it. Good. No scorpions. She put her feet down on the floor and got up. Grabbing her dressing gown of silk, she walked over to the French doors and opened them. The view of the azure sea and the palm trees framing the yellow sand was breath-taking. While she had gone back to sleep, Jack must have brought a bowl of fruit up and left it on the dresser. Taking a mango, she bit into it, deep in thought. She had only been married to Captain Wolfe a week. A week! Her first marriage had lasted just over ten months. Ten long, terrible months. She felt she knew Jack better than she did Madoc. She shuddered at the thought of her deceased husband. If it hadn't been for Rhys keeping her sane... Honour pushed the thought of Rhys Morgan far down into her soul. 'This is not the time nor the place to be bringing that memory up from the depths', she thought. I'll think about that later. Some day. Some day when it doesn't hurt so much. Honour inhaled deeply the blossomed air with the underlying sea breeze. Just a glorious day to be alive and...in love? Was she in love? She wondered. It felt... different than it did with Rhys. 'Maybe because I am older', she reasoned. 'After all, I AM nineteen now.' She threw on a chemise and quickly laced a waist cincher. No need to bother with a skirt. She tied her hair up in a ribbon and headed down the stairs. Jack was talking with Briggs and Cade. They had maps and charts spread out and were studying them intently. Briggs pointed to an area. "Now, if we expand the port over on this side..." "Yes, but there are shoals over here..." said Cade. “Why make it too easy?” Jack asked. The three of them looked up as Honour reached the bottom stair. "Mornin', Mrs. Wolfe," Briggs said stiffly. Cade smiled and nodded. Jack walked over to her and kissed her lovingly, and touched her ribbon in her hair. "Dressed casually, are we, love? Not fitting the station of a pirate queen." She giggled at his attention. "I intend to go to the cove and maybe pick some of the fruit there. Or catch myself a macaw." Jack laughed uproariously at that. "And what do you intend to put him in? Your chemise?" She coloured at that. "Alright, so I will forego the parrot. But I intend for you to catch one for me before we leave." Honour kissed his cheek, and waved to the others as she walked out. picking up a basket that was left by the door. Looking back just once, she saw the men resume their consultation of the charts. All but one. Cade Jennings was watching her leave. As she caught his eye, he quickly looked back to the charts on the table. Odd, she thought. Very odd.

Jack smiled as Cade, still trying to come to grips with his surprise promotion, made his way through the tavern crowd. "Ah, the newly minted Captain Jennings!” he smiled. “Are you forgetting something? New captain buys the house a round!" A loud cheer went up, and the party was under way. Cade laughed, "Good thing I know what is in the coffers of the tavern, Jack.This round goes 'on the house' and I won' be lighter in the pockets." "Well, seeing as we are equal in rank now, I will leave you to see to it the men behave and don't break too much of the furniture." "I don't think that will be a problem. After all, she scares the living hell out of the men. Afraid she will put the evil eye on them and render some body parts useless when they need them most." "Where did you hear that?" "Angelique over at Madame Renee's. She told me that is the excuse they use when things just aren't up to snuff in the boudoir. Glad I have always stayed on the cordial side of said demon woman." Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw the brooding figure of Bonita standing behind the bar, staring daggers at him. He looked at her a moment and sighed. 'A conversation better left for much later. Like the day we leave,' he thought. Jack picked up his frock coat. "And now, dear Cade, I shall leave you to host this soiree. Seems I need to take my leave and go to my room. Marital duty, meaningful conversation and all that....." Cade laughed, "Oh, such a burden! I'm sure you are up to the task." Jack turned as he headed towards the stairs. "Just look for the glow." "On her....or you?" As Jack headed towards the staircase, he found Bonita blocking the way. “You know I hate it when you do that,” said Jack. "Him never learn, never once in all de time Bonita know him. So many changes so quickly? What be chasing him so hard that make him turn de world upside down?" "Nothing wrong with a bit of change. I think the smuggling operation will be a great success, and Cade has earned his station." Bonita smiled knowingly. "Always de businessman, and always so careful to talk about only what HIM want to. Him know de changes I speak of. Dat woman! How can him possibly know her?" "Well, that's what this little honeymoon is for..." "Hear me, Jack Wolfe!" she hissed. "Dat woman who share you name and you bed, she not what you think! Bonita gonna find out what charms she use to snare you heart." Jack gave Bonita an incredulous look. "So, you're telling me that my new bride is, ah, what's the word... oh, yes! A witch? Honestly, Bonita!" "Bonita know dese t'ings, Jack. Him need to be wary of dat crafty child!" He looked upon his trusted friend and advisor with a look of disbelief tinged with pity. "Why are you doing this? Wait, never mind. I may be daft, but I'm far from stupid. It pains me that you chose this time to play me for a fool." He turned on his heel and started up the stairs. "See to it our new partners have another round. This one's on me!" Jack climbed the stairs and quietly entered his and Honour's room. Honour stirred from her half-sleep and smiled at him. "Is the party over already?" she asked. "No, no, it's still going strong. But my mind was up here with you. Too many strange conversations for one evening, though. Most I can easily dismiss, but one in particular has me puzzled." Honour felt her heart sink but kept her voice noncommittal. "Oh? What was it about?" she asked. 'Please, please, please do not let it be about James...' "I can hardly believe I even listened to such foolishness." Her stomach tightened, but she hid it as best she could. "What bothered you so, Jack? You know you can tell me." "Believe it or not, darling," he laughed, "Bonita says you're a witch." Honour drew the sheet closer to her and gave a brittle laugh. "A witch? ME?" Jack took off his shirt and threw it over the chair. "Aye. You. I think she's finally gone round the bend." "So does she intend to have me bound and cast into a caldron of water? Will she look for birthmarks and moles?" Jack chuckled, "No, and I am the only one that is privy to the heart-shaped freckle on your----NOT IN THE FACE!" He laughed as she hit him with the pillow. "But----but what reason did she give for that outrageous accusation?" Jack sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off, kicking them under the bed. "Some nonsense about charms and tricks. Bonita thinks you tricked me into marrying you. Can you believe it?" He dropped his breeches and flung them in the corner. She sighed and shook her head. "Bonita has very strange ideas, Jack. I could tell that about her as soon as you introduced us." "Kind of jumps out at you, doesn't it?” he said as he pulled the sheet down and slid into bed. “Her tia – aunt - was a very powerful priestess and taught Bonita everything she knew. She figures that corners the market for her on strangeness." Jack punched up his pillow and put his arm around Honour. She pressed her body closer to him as if for protection. Jack kissed the top of her head and said, "You're trembling, darling. Are you cold?" The curtains were blowing into the room. She said, "Just a bit. The night air is chilly." He held her close. "Always is once the sun goes down. Don't worry about Bonita. She has uncanny powers of observation but this time I know she is wrong." Honour tried to toss off the notion of being called a witch. "I have never heard of anything so ridiculous in my life, Jack! A witch, of all things!" "Although she may have something there...." Honour pulled away from Jack. "Whatever do you mean?" He pulled her back to him, brushing her hair back and kissing her neck as his hands caressed her. "You certainly have bewitched me." "I have been found out, as this was my plan from the beginning,” she whispered into his ear. “Now you are under my spell forever." She looked longingly into his eyes. "And I do so love this island for a honeymoon, my love." He kissed her slowly and passionately. "Welcome to Tobago, love...."

Jack led Honour to the gunwale and handed her a cup of coffee. "I have to get a few things underway so I will be back as soon as I can. Just enjoy the view, darling." She smiled at him and gratefully accepted the coffee. Resting her elbows on the gunwale rail, Honour looked out over the horizon. The sky met the water in two shades of blue with a thin line separating them. 'I wonder if this is what Rhys saw....' And all of a sudden it hit her. She was sailing in the Caribbean with another man. Not the love of her life. A sense of desolation washed over her like waves over sand. Inexplicably, her eyes filled with tears. She had been so...occupied....that she didn't have a minute to even think of Rhys. And yet there it came to her, in her moment of solitude. She looked over as Jack gave a seemingly endless stream of instructions to the crew, who quickly set about their assignments. Within minutes, the rigging was in place, the sails filled with the morning wind, and the ship began to gracefully glide toward Castara Bay. Once satisfied that all was under control, Jack strolled over to where his wife was. She hastily wiped the tears from her face and gave him a smile. "Salt spray on my face. I was watching the dolphins play." "Where?" She pointed towards the stern of the ship. "They were leaping over each other." Jack put his arm around her. "I realize this is all so new to you, Honour. It is a bit out of the ordinary, spending your honeymoon with a crew. But I promise I shall make up for it when we get to Castara. You will have my undivided attention. After I tie up a few loose ends." She nodded but her heart was still heavy with the realization of what she felt was a betrayal to Rhys. How could she ever give her heart to another man? Sure, there were all those captains....but they never meant anything. Just a way to fill a need and a void in her soul. And in the morning it was clear. They weren't Rhys Morgan. None of them were. But there was one problem. Jack Wolfe stood in a class by himself and there was no way to compare Rhys and Jack. Apples and oranges, summer rains and hurricanes. With a voice she willed not to tremble, she said,"Tell me more about this Jennings fellow we're going to meet. Is he a captain?" "A captain?" Jack smiled. "No, darling. Cade Jennings is, you might say, my protegee. We met ten years ago in Port Royal. I was leaving the pub late one night on the way back my ship, and I heard someone behind me draw a sword. I turned to find a snot-nosed boy of thirteen standing there, rusty sword in hand, trembling like a leaf. I drew my sword, expecting him to run, but he stood his ground. Claimed he wanted to become a pirate, or die by the hand of one. Being that I'm rarely in the mood to snuff a perfectly good powder monkey, I brought him aboard. Quite the little thief, young Cade. A pirate's pirate in the end. And the best smuggler I've ever seen." Honour burst out laughing. "A powder...monkey, did you say?" Jack smiled at her and pushed the hair out of her eyes. "A powder monkey is the lad that brings gunpowder to the gunners. Cade was quick and he was agile. Never saw a kid climb ropes like he did. Took to the sea right off." "What of his family?" "Father died when he was seven. His mother remarried and had died six months previous to our meeting. His stepfather used to beat him so he took to the streets. They were originally from Suffolk and he ran away to New Providence. That is where he learned his street-smarts. Hanging around the ports and pick-pocketing drunken sailors. He was good. But he was in over his head with the street gangs. So....I took him on." "And he became the son you never had." Jack laughed, "Hey, I'm not so old I can be put out to pasture, you know. He's only eleven years younger than me. I may have been a hell-raiser but I didn't start that early!" Honour took a deep breath and approached a subject that had been bothering her ever since they set sail. "Jack....about this spotting sail and filling the holds with swag----you don't really have to do this, do you?" Jack turned to her with a puzzled look on his face. "What do you mean?" "I mean this is our honeymoon and if you do your privateering thing then---" "Whoa! Hold it right there! Where did you get the idea I was a privateer?" It was her turn to look puzzled. "But I saw a flag of England drying out over the hatch there. I mean, I thought you took on opposing vessels for the glory of England." Jack shook his head. "I'm the only glory I care about, Honour. Me. Nobody else matters. And this is a pirate ship. PIRATE, not privateer. I suggest you get used to that reality." "But Jack----" "No 'buts' about it. This is what I do, Honour. This is my job. I don't split any percentage of my booty with merry old England. That's what a pirate does. Robbery on the high seas. Look it up in the legal books. It's there. Probably with my picture beside it, in a most unflattering pose." "But, Jack--" "Don't meddle in ship's business, Honour." "So that is how you see it. And what is my purpose here then?" "Your job is to keep the bed warm for me when I return." Rhys never would have spoken so sharply to her. Rhys was ready to give up his wayward life for one of domesticity. Honour realized that with Jack, she didn't think that far ahead. In fact, thinking with her brain was the last thing she was doing when Jack Wolfe gave her that first whiskey. She looked at him but he gazed over the ocean, his jaw set. She kept her voice even as she said, "I see. Well, I am glad we got that cleared up. Excuse me, Jack. I'm going back to the quarters. I'll keep your bed warm, alright. Just make sure it isn't on fire when you crawl into it. I will leave you to your....occupation, then." She strode off the deck purposefully and entered the Captain's quarters. He couldn't be sure...but could it be that the door slammed?