El Lobo Del Mar

[Honour Bright]

February 28, 1655--Beaumaris, Wales

"Rhiannon, you have been staring out that window for the last hour."

"Hmm? Oh....well, I just was looking at the sky. With the clouds rolling in, it looks like a storm is brewing."

Megan joined her sister at the window. "It looks like it is blowing in from the sea. Once in a while we get a bad storm but don't worry. Bancroft Hall is solidly built."

Honour sighed and sat down. "I'm so tired of being cooped up in this room."

"Darling, I'm sorry. But you are due to have your baby pretty soon and...well, it just isn't really proper for women in your condition to engage in social situations."

Honour looked down at her stomach. "I never thought skin could stretch so much. I haven't seen my feet all month."

Megan laughed and touched her sister's abdomen.

"You aren't that big, Rhiannon. But I do believe the baby has dropped."

"Dropped? Oh no!"

"Oh, it's not a bad thing. It just means the baby is getting into a position to be born. The little head is upside down and ready to make its entrance into the world."

Honour was quiet.

"Megan, does...does it hurt much?" she said in a small voice.

Megan walked over and hugged her sister.

"I won't lie to you, Rhiannon. There is pain involved. But in the end, when you hold that little life in your arms, it makes it so worth it."

Honour bit her lip. "And Daffyd was there?"

"Well, not...here. But he was pacing downstairs in the parlour. I swear, I never saw a man so proud when Dylan was born. And Morwenna just melted his heart."

Honour went back to looking out the window.

"I have no one special waiting for the news of my baby. Poor child," she murmured.

She laid her head against the window and looked out towards the sea.

"Megan? If...If I don't make it, would you please send a letter to James Blake? In care of Amos at the Varlet and Vixen? Also to my friend Kate. She...she would want to know."

"Now, Rhiannon, stop that! Stop it right now! You are young and healthy. Nesta has plenty of experience. You will come through this just fine."

"I know....I just kind of wish..."

"That Jack would be down in the parlour waiting for news of his child being born?"

She nodded.

"Do you think he would be interested, Rhiannon? I mean, from what you have told me, he doesn't seem like the kind of man that would want to be tied down to hearth and home. These men--the ones that get the sea in their blood--well, babies and family life are not a priority."

"I just feel in a way I cheated him of the knowledge that he has a child. A pirate's life could end at any time and maybe it would be...I don't know....a little something for him to know that a part of him continues on....oh, what am I saying? This is Mad Jack Wolfe! If he hadn't acknowledged a child by now, maybe he wouldn't care."

"Rhiannon, these 'could have-should have-would have' thoughts are doing you no good. My best advice is to forget him. Concentrate on having this baby, get your divorce quickly and silently and pass yourself off as a widow. Find love again with a man who will respect and love you."

"I can't think of that right now. And look at the time. You had better get ready for your dinner party."

Megan gave her a hug. "I'll be in to say goodnight if you are still awake."

"I think I will be in bed by then. I have heard how your dinner parties go. People don't want to leave."

"Well, if there is anything, don't hesitate to send Maeve for me. I can use an excuse to leave. Sometimes these people give me a headache."

Honour laughed. "Go! Enjoy your party! Nothing is going to happen. I'll read a book and then turn in early."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honour put the book down she was reading. She padded over to the window and peered out. The storm was picking up. Glancing at the clock on the mantel, she saw that it was close to midnight. Sleep eluded her.

She opened the top drawer of the chest and pulled out a piece of paper. It had been crumpled and torn. Well, crumpled and smoothed out and then eventually torn. She smoothed it out once more.

Hastily scrawled on the paper was the date of June 3rd, 1654. Their names--Honour Bright and John Michael Wolfe.

All legal.

Honour traced their names across the paper with her finger and tried hard not to weep.

'I can't understand why I feel so melancholy over this. Jack Wolfe is out of my life. I won't ever see him again....'

She folded up the paper and a pain suddenly gripped her.

"Oh! OH!"

She clung to the dresser and it subsided. She made her way to the bed when another pain came.

"Nesta! NESTA!"

The midwife hurried into the room and took one look at Honour. She placed her hand on her abdomen.

"It's time, Rhiannon."

"But...but it can't be. I'm not ready."

As soon as she said it, she felt a trickle of water down her leg. Nesta looked at her and said firmly, "It doesn't matter whether you are ready or not, Rhiannon. The baby is in charge now.

Your water is breaking and your contractions are coming. Like it or not, this babe will be born sometime in the wee hours. I'll get Miss Megan."

"Oh, please don't. Let her enjoy her dinner party. Please don't tell her for a while yet."

A clap of thunder echoed and the heavens opened up to a torrential rain.

Nesta shook her head. "A bad storm. And a baby on the way. It's going to be a long night."

She helped Rhiannon to the bed. As she laid back on the pillows, pain gripped her and she began to realize she would have this baby by herself and Jack would never know if she died giving birth to his child.

Regrets filled her thoughts.

'Forgive me, Jack. But I did what I had to do.'

Another pain, more intense.

Yes, a long, long night.

[Honour Bright]

March 1, 1655--Bancroft Hall, Beaumaris, Wales

"...and then Lady Waterford said to me.....excuse me."

Megan looked up from her water glass and said, "Yes, Maeve?"

The serving girl leaned over and whispered in Megan's ear. Her eyes grew wide and she stood up. Turning to her guests, she said with a bright smile, " A family emergency upstairs. Please, go on with your dinner and evening. Daffyd? Please see to our guests' needs."
Daffyd quickly stood up and said, "Pardon me for a moment."

He followed Megan to the staircase.
"Is it what I think it is?"

Megan gathered her skirts and said, "Yes. Nesta knows. I'm afraid I won't be here to bid our guests goodbye, dear. Please make my excuses. Tell them...oh, tell them one of the children has the sniffles and is calling for me. And whatever you do, stay away from the east wing and keep the children away too."

Megan quickly ran up the stairs, knocked quietly on the door and then opened it.

The girl from the bed murmured, "Megan?"

"Yes, dear. It's me."

"Megan, I am sorry to interrupt your dinner party."

"Hush! It is only a few of the local gentry. I was getting a headache anyways and this will be a welcome diversion."

To Nesta she asked, "So...what is going on?"

Nesta washed her hands in a basin of soapy water and said, "It started yesterday morning but she begged me not to say anything to you. I've been monitoring her."

"Rhiannon, you didn't say a word to me! Why not?"
The girl said quietly, "You were having a dinner party and I didn't want to interrupt."

"Not interrupt? Darling, this is your first baby. You should have told me!"

To the midwife, she asked, "How is she?"

Nesta dried her hands. "The pains are coming quickly, stronger and closer together. I think within the next two hours, you will be an aunt."

There was a knock on the door.

"Megan? How are things going?"

Megan cracked the door open and then slipped out.
"Daffyd, I told you not to come into the east wing! Birthing is NO place for husbands."

"But Dylan and Morwenna are asking for their mum and then Aunt Rhiannon. They are worried."

"Well, please tell them Mummy will be in to see them for breakfast."

"It will be tonight?"

"Yes, Daffyd. It will be tonight. The children will have a nice surprise. Now go."

Megan closed the door and walked over to her sister. Rhiannon was lying in bed, her face pale and sweaty.

"Megan, I'm not going to make it! If I die, take care of the baby."
"Hush, darling, you aren't going to die. I won't let you."
She started to cry. "I can't do this. I give up. I changed my mind. Ohhhhhh! I want Jack here."
Meagan soothed her. "Honey, I'm all you have."
The pains kept coming closer together. Honour moaned, "I just want him here so I can tell the bloody bastard what I think of what he did to me!"
Megan stroked her brow with a cloth dipped in lavender. "Dear, we all say that. It is always their fault but once it is over, we forget and do it all over again."

Rhiannon tried to stop the flow of tears but was unsuccessful as they slid down her face and saturated her pillow.

"It's al his fault. It's all Jack Wolfe's fault. If he wasn't so devastatingly charming with his sweet talk and his merlot, I wouldn't be in this situation. And I hate him for it. HATE HIM! Where is he when all this is going on? I have to pay the price for his...lust. He's moved on. And if I have my way, he will never EVER know about this child."

Megan held her hand.

"Why, Rhiannon? Why so much hate and resentment for a man that is the father of your child?"

Rhiannon turned her face into her pillow and sobbed.
"Because....because he left me no choice. Megan, he was a absolute bastard to me in Bridgetown. Do you hear me? A BASTARD!"

"Hush, dear. This isn't doing you any good. Just focus on getting through delivering this child and then you can speculate on your husband's pedigree."

Rhiannon looked up from the pillow and said cynically. "It's only fitting that this child is born by candlelight. She probably got her start on Jack's legendary candlelight wine-dinner-seduction nights. Oh, how I hate him. HATE HIM!"

Megan washed her face and said quietly, "Yes, darling. You have already said that. But this is something that started nine months ago. Now we have a situation that we have to see through to the end. No sense pinpointing blame. Between Nesta and me, we will bring this child into the world and then you can tell me how much you hate Jack Wolfe. But until then, you have to buck up and get this child birthed. Can you do this for me like the Conaway I know you are?"

Rhiannon gritted her teeth and said, "Yes, I can.....OHHHH!"

Megan looked out the turret windows. "The storm is getting fierce. You can hear the rain pound on the window. And that branch...it keeps raking the window."

Rhiannon let out a loud moan.

Nesta put her hand on Rhiannon's abdomen and nodded to Megan.

"It's time."

Megan got behind Rhiannon and pushed her up to a semi-sitting position. Gently, Nesta said, "Rhiannon, I delivered all the babies in this family. I delivered you and together we are going to deliver this babe. Don't stress about the father, just get this little baby OUT. Now....PUSH!"

Nesta looked up at Megan and said quietly, "I can see the head."

Rhiannon grasped her sister's hand and let out another moan. She pushed.

"Once more, dear, and...NOW!"

Nesta and Megan both looked up startled as a crack of thunder and flash of lightning flashed outside the window.

"Dear God!' breathed Nesta as she suddenly felt Rhiannon's child deliver into her hands.

Rhiannon laid back on the pillows in exhaustion as the midwife held the child.

"Oh my God," said Nesta.

Rhiannon could barely catch her breath.

"Please, God, I take it all back," she prayed through her tears. Something is wrong. The baby is not crying...something is wrong...

The midwife slapped the baby's bottom and Rhiannon heard a wail.
She looked at Megan in astonishment..
Her sister had tears in his eyes.
"Darling, you have a fine healthy daughter!"

Rhiannon felt the tears well up in her eyes. She reached out and touched the baby's hand. "Is--is she alright? Has she all her parts?" she whispered.
Megan said softly, "Two eyes, a nose, a tiny little mouth, ten fingers, ten toes. And her eyes are the bluest eyes this side of heaven."
"Thank you, God." Honour whispered.

Nesta put the baby in Honour's arms. Her tears fell on the baby's downy head.
She softly touched the baby's fingers as she marveled at how small her hands were as the baby curled her fingers around her mother's.
She said in wonderment, "I can't believe it. She--she's a GIRL!"
Megan laughed through her tears, "Rhiannon, they come in both flavors! Did you not entertain the thought that you just might have a girl?"

"Not from him. I can't believe that the great Mad Jack Wolfe has produced a GIRL!"

She looked at Megan and the tears were shining in her eyes. "A daughter!"
Megan washed her sister's face with a warm cloth.
"And what are you to name this child? Margaret? Elizabeth? Or are you going to name her after Mother?"
Honour shook her head and said, "I have the perfect name."
"And that is...?"
"Zara."
"Rhiannon! Are you...sure? I mean, it is not approved by the Church!"
She tilted her head up defiantly. "The Church has done nothing for me except condemn. This is a unique child and she deserves a unique name. 'Zara' is exotic. And this child shall follow in the footsteps of no one! Like her father."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 1, 1655--Somewhere in the northern Caribbean

"Jack, for the love of God, drop anchor and ride it out!"

"Never! NEVER! You think a little wind is going to keep me down?"

"Jack, it's a monsoon!" The sea water and wind splashed into Briggs's face, so he could barely stand without holding onto the gunwale.

"The rest of the crew are below. Thinking you lost your mind!"

Jack stood at the wheel, his face a mixture of madness and drunk with rum.

"I'LL SHOW THE WIND WHO IS BOSS!"

He raised his fist to the sky as a clap of thunder and a flash of lightning danced across the sky.
He muttered, "If I believed in portents, I swear she sent that just to taunt me...

just to taunt me...."

He picked up his bottle of rum and smashed it against the gunwale. Shaking the broken bottle, he shouted, 'Damn you, Honour Bright or whoever you are,' he raged to the heavens.
"I swear, I will find you! You can't hide from me forever. Because that's how long I'll keep looking if I must."

[Honour Bright]

June 3, 1655--Leogane, Hispanola

"Jack? Jack! I've been looking all over this port for you."

Jack tried to focus his eyes on Briggs' face but unsuccessfully.

"Yeah, well, you found me, Josiah. Now what?"

Josiah sat down.

"Kind of ironic I find you at a tavern called The Lost Honour, isn't it?"

Jack shrugged. "Never made the connection, mate."

"And you are alone."

"What of it?"

"You usually end up with company."

Jack growled, "So for tonight I don't want any. Present company included."

"Jack-----"

"Josiah, leave. LEAVE. I want to be alone. No quartermasters, no doxies. Just LEAVE, DAMMIT!"

Jack slammed his glass down on the tavern table. Several people looked over.

Josiah stood up.

"Fine. But promise me you will get a room."

"Already have. Second from the left."

Jack stood up and swayed in his boots.
"You need help getting to bed, Jack?"

He shot Josiah a look.

"Not since...last night. Evita. That was her name. Sweetest little munequita this side of Havana."

"If you're sure...."

"Josiah, go mother someone else. Just....go."

Jack unsteadily made his way up the stairs, holding onto the railing to steady himself.

Josiah stayed downstairs until he heard the door slam.

'Second from the left....at least he made it back to his room.'

Jack walked unsteadily to his room and leaned against the door. He pulled the cork out of a fresh bottle of rum and threw it across the room. He raised the bottle.

"Here's to you, Honour Bright. Wherever you are.....and by the way, happy anniversary. God, I hope you are as happy as I am tonight."

He staggered backwards to the bed and fell back into it.

For some reason he felt a sense of abandonment. He covered his eyes with his forearm and tried to forget that he actually was happy--and in love---for that one month of June.

The heavens opened up to a torrential downpour.
'Damn it!' Jack exploded as the shutters banged open, slamming repeatedly into the wall. The rain was coming in sideways and saturating the room. He rolled over and ambled over to the window, grabbing the shutter and locking it down.
'Damn storm. Why do I always think of.....her....during a monsoon?'

The heavens opened up to a torrential downpour.

'Damn it!' Jack exploded as the shutters banged open, slamming repeatedly into the wall. The rain was coming in sideways and saturating the room. He rolled over and ambled over to the window, grabbing the shutter and locking it down.

'Damn storm. Why do I always think of.....her....during a monsoon?'

He wiped the rainwater from his face.

He tried to focus his eyes on the dark form sitting at the table.

"YOU!" He blurted.

"Yeah. Me. Now pour me a drink. You and I have alot to chat about, don't you agree?"

[The Doctor]

Jack rubbed his eyes. He had to be seeing things. That was the only explanation. Because there, sitting at the table like nothing at all was amiss, was Jack’s father.

“This isn’t possible,” said Jack. “You’re dead. You’ve been dead nearly twenty years.”

“Yet here I am. Are you going to pour, or spend the rest of the night stating the obvious?”

Jack wobbled over to the table, set up two glasses, and poured them both full. After a few moments, he sat down opposite his father.

“Just look at you,” said Charles. “What a mess you’ve become!”

“I rather like the look,” protested Jack. “It serves me well.”

“Ah yes, the foul, dissolute pirate captain, feared by all! I raised you better than this, Jack.”

Jack picked up his glass and drained half of it. “Fat lot of good that did me. Where were you when I really needed you? Mouldering in the grave, that’s where. You buggered off into the great beyond, and left the rest of us to take care of Mum. You know how sick she was. The only one of us with any sort of steady income was Thomas, and he was over a year behind in collecting wages. So I quit university and sent back what money I could. Then, like it or not, I ended up a pirate. So don’t go climbing on your high spectral horse with me, Dad. So much of this is your fault.”

Charles tapped the side of his glass. “I can accept a portion of that, I suppose. But I didn’t mean to die, Jack. No one ever does. It just happens, you know? It comes on you, slow and fast at the same time. And there’s nothing you can do about it. It just claims you. I wish I could make you understand, and at the same time I never want you to know what it feels like. Not ever. But I know I can’t protect you from it. No one is safe. It just is.”

“How is Mum, by the way?” asked Jack. He tried to ignore his father’s words about death, but to no avail.

“I wouldn’t know.”

“What? No tandem harp lessons, or dancing on streets of gold?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Really? How does it, then?”

“There’s nothing to it. Literally.”

“Then how are you here, as a ghost in my room?”

“Who said I am? Here’s a better question; where’s your wife?”

“Oh, no. No, you don’t get the change the subject.”

“But I’m not changing the subject, Jack. All of this is about you. You, and your wife. ‘That is why a man will leave his father and his mother and he must stick to his wife and they must become one flesh.’ Genesis 2:24. I taught you that.”

Jack shook his head. “Yeah, well, to borrow a phrase from you, it doesn’t work like that. Sadly.”

“And that’s why you’re so angry?” asked Charles.

“You think it’s that simple? All my life, people have left me. Chucked me aside, like I’m nothing. You. Mum. Rose. Cade. Now Honour. How am I supposed to feel, eh? Cheerfully accepting? Bollocks! I feel bloody well shat on, from all sides! Anyone I’ve ever made an emotional investment in, anyone at all, they’ve left me! So yeah, I’m angry!”

Charles shifted the glass on the table slightly. “So that’s what this is all about? How everyone has failed Jack Wolfe? How people have so callously left huge holes in his life?”

“Now you’re getting the picture.”

“What about the holes you’ve gouged in other’s lives?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, yes you do. How many, Jack? How many widows, how many orphans have you made over the years? Dozens? Hundreds? I can’t blame you for not wanting to face something like that. Your hands are so soaked in blood, it’s no wonder people fear your name.”

Jack’s own blood turned to ice in his veins. “Now, wait a moment. Yes, there have been some actions where resistance had to be put down. But that’s the price of doing business.”

“Business?! Oh, that’s rich. Your stock and trade is death. Maybe not every time, but it’s there. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make. Jack, you are not the victim here. You never have been.”

Jack drained the rest of his glass. “I’m not? Well, it sure feels that way.”

“I didn’t raise you to be such a selfish bastard. Yes, your mum and I died unexpectedly. And yes, Rose was horrible to you. But look at the way you kept Cade under your thumb. And Honour? Where were you when she needed you most? Nowhere to be found. Off doing what you wanted to do, her needs be damned. Looking at things that way, who’s been doing the abandoning, Jack?”

Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Isn’t there some astral moratorium to your time spent here lecturing me, Dad?”

Charles shook his head. “If I were a ghost, I suppose there might be.”

“You’re not a ghost? Then what are you?”

“That’s for you to decide, Jack. I don’t care what you think I am. All I want is for you to listen, and to think about what I said.”

Jack pushed back from the table and wobbled over to the bed. “Well, I hope you don’t mind, but it’s been a taxing day. I need some sleep. I trust you can find your way out.” He laid down face first, not even bothering to take off his boots.

“Yes, yes, I can,” said Charles sadly. “Just... just know that I love you, Jack. I always have.”

Jack lay there for several moments before answering, “I love you too, Dad. And I miss you so much.” A single tear escaped the corner of his eye, hung there for a moment, and dashed itself against his pillow as he drifted off to sleep.

Sunlight struck Jack’s face, and the mere act of slightly opening his eyes brought forth a crushing headache. He rolled onto his back and threw his arm over his face.
“What an awful night,” he moaned. “I don’t know what was in that rum, but it was more like absinthe...”

He lay there a few moments more, then sat up. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked over at the table where he had surely dreamt of talking with his father the night before. And sure enough, there were two glasses, just as he remembered.

And they were both empty.

[Honour Bright]

October, 1655--Beaumaris, Wales

"I've been thinking, Megan....."

"About what, dear?"

"How having Zara has changed my perspective on alot of things. I need a clean start. Both for her sake and mine. I have no ties to Barbados and for a woman alone, it can be a dangerous place. As much as I don't want to, I am going to sell the plantation and settle back here."

"I think that is an excellent idea, Rhiannon. But how can you do that when you are here in Beaumaris?"

"That's the problem. I have no agent so I have to handle this myself. I'll take Zara and go down there and---"

"You will do no such thing! A ship and a raucous place is no place for a precious baby! If you insist upon this, then I will insist you keep her with me. Is there more to this than just selling the plantation?"

Honour got up and looked out the window at the falling leaves.

"I want to put this all behind me. When I am in Bridgetown, I will visit the magistrate and quietly get a divorce. With the stipulation that Jack Wolfe will receive the papers six months after it has been final. I will be back in Wales when he finds out and he will think I have been in the Caribbean all that time. I can't go for an annulment. It gets stricken off the record, Zara becomes illegitimate. And I won't have that. I have grounds on abandonment. Jack abandoned me when he went to Martinique."

"But he was coming back."

"Immaterial. At least to me. He virtually abandoned me that day he left our bed to sleep in Duckie's quarters on the cot. That was the beginning of our end."

She turned to Megan.

"It wouldn't have worked out, Megan. I see that now. We wanted different things. I wanted a home and stability and Jack wanted the sea and adventure. We didn't think that far ahead."

"When do you want to go?"

"I want to leave by next week."

"Next week? Why so soon?"

She sighed. "I talked to Captain Underhill. The Bonnie Glenn is in port. And I didn't mention Zara because I was hoping you would keep her for me. Captain Underhill took a liking to me. We talked alot in the evenings about astronomy and places I want to go and where he has been and gardening and history...all sorts of things. And don't look at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"I have no interest in Captain Underhill or he with me. He's old enough to be my father. And he thought of me as a little sister. To him I am still James Blake's cousin Mary Carter."

"And you kept up the deception?"
"I saw no reason to change it."

"I know you better than this, Rhiannon, and why the rush---aha! A man is involved!"

Rhiannon felt her face blush. "Certainly not. Although Lord Neville did ask if he could call on me. I told him I wasn't ready for that, being newly widowed and all."

"And the lack of black mourning garb didn't throw him off? Or the fact that you were at a ball?"

"He didn't ask, I didn't tell. Megan, I have no interests in a man...yet. But yes, I want stability for Zara and security for us. The fact that Neville asked made it clear to me that I need to plan for our future. I would like to find love again. I had one man who truly loved me and one that I thought loved me. Maybe I will find it again. But if not, I can settle for companionship."

"It sounds like a cold compromise, Honour."

"It is the least I can hope for. By the time the new year comes, I will be ready to start my life over again. And there is another thing I want to discuss with you."

"What is it?"

"I'd like to move from Wales."

"Rhiannon, no!'
"Oh, I won't go too far. I would like to settle in Scotland."

"Scotland? Why Scotland?"

"I don't know. I like the sound of it. Did I tell you that Zara is one-quarter Scot?"

"What? NO!"
"Jack told me about his Scottish grandparents. From his mother's side. I kind of like the idea of Zara reconnecting with her roots. And Wales isn't so far that I can't come to visit."

"Oh, Rhiannon, don't talk like that. Maybe you will change your mind."

"Maybe. But think of it this way, Megan--Scotland is alot closer than Barbados!"

[Honour Bright]

November, 1655--Antigua

Josiah looked up at the delapidated tavern sign swinging in the sultry breeze that blew through the Port St John.
'Yep, bet he is in this one.'
He opened the door to John's Folly.
There standing by the stairway was his captain.

Jack Wolfe stood there, dishevelled and very full of rum. His arm was around the shoulder of a Spanish senorita. She may have been pretty at one time. Hell, she may still be pretty if she had taken the trouble to sober up.
But there Jack was, up to his usual routine.
Find the lowliest dive in port.
Get stinking drunk.
Find a willing woman of the Spanish persuasion.
Get her stinking drunk.
Go upstairs.

Josiah didn't need to fill in the blanks.
He stood there with his fists planted on his hips, shaking his head.

"Ahoy, there, my quartermaster! Looking for me?"
Josiah nodded. "Just checking to see where you are."
Jack whispered to the woman, "I'll be right back. It seems Mother wants to see me."
He walked over to Josiah and patted him on the cheek, trying to focus his eyes.
"Well, it seems you found me."
Josiah took him by the arm and hauled him off to a corner.
"How many times do I have to tell you be careful? For all you know, that woman could be working for Mendoza."
Jack looked over at her and then back to Josiah.
"Naw. Not Dolores. She's as uninteresting as they come when it comes to conversation but I don't feel like talking."

Josiah grabbed his arm.
"You can't keep drowning yourself in rum and every woman that crosses your path. Now let's face it. Honour--or whatever her name is---is GONE. And so are the chests and the money. It's time you forget her. And become the captain you once were."
Jack's eyes grew flinty. "I'm not going to stop looking for her. Not till I get the key back. And some answers."
Josiah said softly, "I just worry about you, Jack."
Jack shrugged off Josiah's grasp and walked away.
"You know, Josiah, some day you are going to make someone a fine mother."
"Too narrow in the pelvis," Briggs muttered.
He watched as Jack climbed the stairs to one of the rooms with his senorita flavor of the moment.


"Rum, please." Josiah slid his coin down to the end of the bar and a minute later, a rum slid back.
He had just taken a drink when a captain he had known in the past had ambled in and sat beside him.
"Well, if it isn't the quartermaster of El Lobo del Mar!"
Briggs took a drink and nodded.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Corwin. Last time I believe your ship was sailing into St Lawrence as we were sailing out. How's it been?"
Corwin grimaced. "Yeah. St Lawrence. What a hell of a layover THAT was."
He yelled to the barkeep, "Rum!"
Briggs nodded to the barkeep, "First one on me."
"Well, thank ye kindly, Briggs. And where is your esteemed captain?"
Briggs nodded to the stairs.
"Occupied with...business."
Corwin smirked, "Hope it ends up better for him."
Corwin grabbed the drink as it slid by. It was then that Briggs noticed his hands.
They were both disfigured and contorted.
"Holy Mother of the Sea....what happened to you?"
Corwin took a deep drink.
"Ready for a story you probably never heard and will never hear the likes of again?"
Briggs nodded to an empty table and Corwin followed.

"It was in St Lawrence. What was it, about a year ago that I saw you last?"
"Thereabouts."
"Alright, so we had a good haul and the crew was feeling a bit riled. Just good harmless fun, ya know? Well, there was this little tavern wench. Good looking piece. Big on top, small on bottom. Just the way I like 'em. She seemed friendly enough. Went the extra mile in bringing me ale and I repaid in kind. As the night wore on, the friendlier she got. She had a thing for captains, I heard. So I figured, it had been a few months since I was in port and I was due. Ya know what I mean?"
Briggs smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean. We find ourselves in port more and more often. Except Wolfe is searching for---"
"So I make an offer, and paid off her night's wages. May as well make a long night of it, ya know? That barkeep was pretty pissed off but she talked him out of it.
Anyways, we go back to her room. All of a sudden, she gets shy, like she isn't quite sure about it."
Corwin chuckled and then continued. "So I had to teach her that once a frigate is heading for port, you don't stand in the way, ya know what I mean?"
Corwin took a deep drink of his rum.
"Yep, she came around to an understanding real quick. Showed her a few things she didn't know. Guess she didn't like the way it turned out. You know what happened?"
Briggs shook his head. He had always known Corwin to be ruthless on the high seas but didn't know it extended to port courtesies.
Corwin slammed his drink down on the counter. The other patrons jumped and looked over.
He focused his eyes on Briggs. "The little b***h took my clothes and threw them out the window where a beggar took off with them. Rolled me out of all the coin I had in my pockets and left me with nothing but my sword and boots."

He grimaced in recollection.
"Yeah, she made me walk to the dock wrapped in a frilly, lacy, flowery coverlet."
Briggs tried to hide his smile behind his rum. "Well, that doesn't explain the---"
"I'm not finished. Later that night, as I went back in port to see if I could find her--you know, as long as she rolled me for my money, I intended to take that out in trade. I had something more in mind for the little trick she pulled on the apparel--well, find her I did. She was taking in the night air on a stroll by that stone ballustrade that overlooks the port where the harbor juts out. I drew my sword and kept it at her throat. You know, to make her more....compliant? Damn doxy had a sword of her own! And damn if she didn't know how to use it. But I was taking my marks on her. Then I stepped on a wharf cat and she had the advantage. She kicked me and that was the last I remember. My crew found me under some canvas on the dock. And my hands......"
He grew a bit misty and cleared his throat.
"She knew what she was doing. She knew how important a seaman's hands are. And she got even. Hell, Briggs--alright, so I got a bit rough that night. She knew what she was getting into when she took me upstairs. Is that just punishment for ruining my hands?"
Briggs stood up. "Yeah, it does seem a bit harsh. Here...have another on me."
"Thanks. I swear to God, I will find Honour Bright if it takes me the rest of my life."

Briggs felt his heart plunge to his stomach but he acted casually.
"Unusual name. Any leads?"
"I went back to the tavern--think it was the Varlet and Vixen--and her friend said she married a Spaniard and was living in Cadiz."
"Oh, well, then..."
"She was lying. I checked it out. She is somewhere. And when I find her, she becomes the crew's property and hell, she thought it was bad with me?"
He laughed to himself. "Yeah. Fitting justice."
Briggs barely got a goodbye out and walked into the night air.

"Oh Lord, Honour. What have you done? Jack, you had better find her first. And fast."

[Honour Bright]

Late November, 1655--Bridgetown, Barbados

Honour sat in the small tavern next to an open window. A sea breeze drifted through the window. She inhaled deeply the scent of the salted air, remembering how much she missed it.
She was about to take a bite of her stew when a voice said behind her, "Well, I don't believe it. I finally caught up with you!"

Startled, she looked up to see Cade Jennings grinning at her.
"Cade! What are you doing here?"
He sat down.
"I might ask the same question of you. You left without a word to anyone. So where have you been?"
Honour thought quickly.
"I was visiting my aunt in Barcelona. She married a Spaniard. I needed to put some distance between me and the Caribbean. Find out what I wanted and where I wanted to go."
"When did you get back?"
"Oh...a few months ago."
"Have you made any decisions yet?"
She crossed her fingers, weaving her lie.
"I think I will settle in St Maarten."
"Seems you can go pretty far on ol' Jack's money. Rumour has it quite a bit of his money disappeared around the time you did."
"I don't know what you are talking about. I had money saved and it seemed like it was time for me to go since Jack left me no choice since he pulled that gun on me. But enough about me. What have you been up to?"
"Oh..this and that...a bit of plundering, a lot of piracy."
"The Gryphon."
"She's a fine ship. I have a good crew."
He took Honour's hand, kissing it.
"And I have missed you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honour laid in Cade's arms, snuggling closer to him. She had forgotten how much she loved being held after.....and how much she missed making love. She hadn't been with a man since Jack had given her the diamond and emerald necklace. The day he left for Martinique.
"Honour?"
"Hmmm?" she whispered contentedly.
"You don't mind if I stay the night in your room?"
She looked up at him.
"Of course not."
"Good. Because I told the tavern keeper I would be canceling my room," he laughed.
She looked up at him."Pretty sure of yourself, weren't you, Cade Jennings?"
He held her closer.
"Very sure."
"What if I had said no?"
"I made sure you wouldn't, didn't I?"

His lips traveled down her shoulders.
"I could get used to this when I am in port."
She raised her head up to protest but Cade covered her mouth with a kiss. Not having the attentions of a man since Zara was born, she found herself being swept into the moment.
"Oh, Cade...." she whispered. And thoughts of Jack Wolfe momentarily vanished from her mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moonlight shone through the windows. Honour laid her head on Cade's chest, both of them in silence as they recovered from their lovemaking.
Cade idly played with one of Honour's blonde curls as her fingers delicately stroked Cade's chest.
"Honour?"
"Mm hmm?"
"I was thinking....you may not have to get that divorce."
"What are you talking about? Of course I have to get that divorce."
He looked down at her.
"I don't think Jack will live that long."
She raised herself up. "Wh--what do you mean?"
"I mean I've heard from quite a few people that have seen him. Jack Wolfe is in bad shape. He's reckless on the seas and when in port, all he does is wenching and drinking. Almost as if he doesn't care anymore."
Honour felt a knot in her stomach.
"Are you sure? It may just be tavern talk."
He shook his head. "His drinking as escalated to the point that even Briggs can't seem to reach him. Jack won't listen to him. I heard that even Duckie is ready to part company with him. Said he wasn't going to watch him die."

Honour felt sick to her stomach. No matter what had gone down between the two of them, he was still the father of her little girl.
"But here is the advantage to not getting a divorce. Do you realize that as Jack Wolfe's widow, you can claim all that he owns?"
"What?"
"Jack Wolfe is not the kind of man who would write a will. He fancies himself as invincible. But as his widow, you would inherit his properties. Any money he has hidden. And one other thing....."
She looked at him questionably.
"You would inherit El Lobo del Mar."

Honour sat up quickly, the sheet wrapped around her. Cade stroked her back as she ran her fingers through her hair.
"Now wouldn't that be a reversal of fortune? You marry me. Together we would have the Gryphon and El Lobo del Mar. The start of our own fleet."
Honour tried to process all that Cade had suggested. To be the owner of El Lobo del Mar...it was just too absurd.
"And Briggs would be working for us. Can you imagine? Good ol' Josiah, having to take orders from me."
Cade laughed and then pulled Honour to him.
"But enough of that in due time," he said as he kissed her neck.

Jack Wolfe....fearless, bold and courageous Jack Wolfe. To die like a common drunk?
Once again, Jack Wolfe was breaking her heart.
Cade never saw the solitary tear that trailed silently down her cheek as he made love to her.

[Honour Bright]

Honour slipped quietly out of the bed. She shivered even though there was a fire in the small fireplace. She reached to the end of the bed and put her dressing gown on.
She glanced over at Cade but he never stirred.
Pulling back the curtain, she looked out the window to the port of Bridgetown. It seemed so different from the first time she sailed into it. She laid her head against the frame, watching the ships go in and out of the harbour.
Things with Cade were different. Before he was tender and caring. Now it was almost as if he made love like he was getting even with someone.
Was it really true what he said about Jack? Was he really destroying his health with women and whiskey?
In spite of everything, the thought of it made her sick to her stomach. Was she responsible or at the very least, did she contribute to it? Guilt intruded into her thoughts.
Her eyes filled with tears. Cade was the first man she had made love with since Zara was born but it just wasn't the same.
"Honour? Come back to bed, sweetheart." Cade said drowsily from the bed.
She dropped her dressing gown and slipped back between the covers.
"What time is it?" he said.
"It will be light in a few hours."

Cade gave a long sigh as Honour snuggled up against him.
"I'll need to be aboard the ship at first light. There are so many things to attend to when getting ready to put out to sea, and the captain needs to be there make sure it all gets done. You understand, I'm sure."
Honour's body stiffened. She didn't know if it was because of him using much the same words Jack did when ship's business took him away at the crack of dawn, or his casual assumption she would 'understand'. Either way, she was left in the familiar position of playing second-fiddle to a ship. And she didn't care for it.
"That's fine," she replied nonchalantly. "I have business of my own to see to."
"Really?" he asked, as he toyed with her blonde locks. "What kind of business?"
"My business."
"That's awfully coy of you. Haven't I earned the right to know?"
She shook her head. "No, not yet. But you can keep trying."
"I think I can manage that," he replied, and began to kiss her.
"Ah-ah, not so fast. It's going to be a busy day for us both, and I want to be rested. There will be plenty of time for that tonight."
Cade was silent for a moment. He never expected to be rebuffed by Honour. "Well, if you insist..."
"I do. Now, get some sleep."

Honour turned away from him and pulled the covers close to her. Yes, she had established a little more control over her situation. But things still wrong somehow. She closed her eyes, hopeful that the coming day would bring the closure she hoped for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Honour settled back in the carriage. Cade said he would meet her back in the room and he would have dinner sent up for them. With a bottle of madeira. He didn't remember she was partial to merlot.
Jack remembered.
Jack always remembered details.
The meeting with the agent went well. He thought there would be no problem getting her asking price for the plantation what with so many English settlers in Barbados.
Then she had the carriage take her out to the plantation.
She felt the need to explain to the Averys that she had a change of plan. The widow Castlemaine would not be moving to Barbados. Mrs. Avery shed a few tears but felt heartened that Honour was giving them two years' wages. With that they could buy their own cottage. She would give them good references. It was hard to let go of the house that Honour and Jack would have settled in. She sat down at the piano and tinkered a bit on the keys. She had pictured Zara sitting there taking her piano lessons.
Another little dream shattered.
No view from the balcony of the master bedroom. Instead the highlands of Scotland would be hers and Zara's view from their home.
Such a different life she had planned.

The carriage pulled up into the side street next to the market.
Honour handed the driver a few coins over his fare.
"Thank ye, Ma'am. Now ye be careful in this here part of town."
Honour smiled. "I'll be fine. I'm used to shopping and I can handle myself amongst the clientele here."
She almost said, 'I used to be married to one." But bit back on the words.
The morning flew by as Honour did her shopping, picking up silks and fabrics for dresses. The merchants tried to overcharge but Honour was able to get them to agree on the prices she wanted to pay. After a morning of haggling, she felt she deserved a break and looked up at a swinging sign.
The Bilge Pump Pub.

"Can I get you something, miss?"
"An ale, please," she said to the barkeep.
The barkeep put the ale down and she slid her coin to him. The tankard was cold and she pressed it to her cheek to take down the heat in her face. Although it was autumn, the humidity was breaking records.
She took a deep drink and sighed.
Yes, in a few months this will all be settled and I can get on with my life, she thought.
Thoughts of Zara filled her mind and she began to get homesick for her little girl. A new life in Scotland where no one knew who she was or what had happened would give her the fresh start she wanted. So engrossed was she in her future plans, she didn't notice the figure who strolled in through the tavern door.

He paused a moment to let his eyes grow accustomed to the dark and dingy tavern, but quickly gave up. It's not as if he would stop seeing double any time soon, anyway. Drinking the last tavern dry of rum had seen to that. His fingertips danced on the hilt of his cutlass as he quickly surveyed the room. Spying an empty table that gave him a clear view of the room, he quickly occupied it before anyone else could.
As she finished her ale, a pirate sidled up beside her.
"Well, well....we don't often see a woman of your caliber in here. Can I buy you another ale?"
She turned and looked at him, trying not to show the derision she felt.
"No, thank you. I was on my way out. I have to meet my husband."
Alright so it was a lie....
She slid out of the chair and headed for the door. But what she saw froze her heart.
There, seated by the window was the one person she thought she would never see again.

Captain Mad Jack Wolfe.

[The Doctor]

The only trouble was to get out the door without him seeing her.

'Oh please, God, just let me clear the door....'

But no matter how she tried, she would have to walk past him.

"Hey, Barkeep! Another rum and... oh, hell, just bring the whole damn bottle, there's a good man!"

The barkeep ambled over and as he was setting the bottle down and Jack was fishing coins out of his pocket, Honour saw her opportunity.

She dropped down to her hands and knees and attempted to crawl out of the bar via the tables that would protect her from his sight.

Almost there... almost there...

She hit the threshold with her knee and stifled her cry of pain.

Scurrying faster on her hand and knees, she had almost cleared the door when she felt someone grab her ankles and yank her backwards. When she felt the pressure release, she tried to scramble to her feet but was unceremoniously set on her feet and as she struggled to run, the arms drew her in a tight embrace against his body.

"I know the shape of that leg and the curve of that bottom anywhere, love," the boozy voice slurred. "And that scent of jasmine. Always did do something for me, " he whispered huskily.

She tried to elbow him in the gut.

"Now, now....no need to be elbowing ol' Jack, love."
"That had better be a pistol that is jamming into my leg."

"One of them," he replied smugly. "I'll leave it to you to guess which. Now is this any way for you to say hello to your long lost husband?"

He spun her around and grinned sardonically at her."Well, well...if it isn't the absentee wife! Hello, darling--fancy meeting you here. But then we met in a tavern and old habits die hard, yeah?"

Honour struggled against his arms and made a noise that was equal parts frustration and disgust. "The only thing I want to say to you is, go to hell!"
"Oh, I've been there, my pet. Thanks to you, I've been there a good long time."
"Jack, let me go!"
"Say please."
"What?!"
"I said, say please. Would it kill you to be civil?"
She took a deep breath and said between clenched teeth, "Please."
"No, too insincere," he said with a chuckle. "Besides, I rather enjoy having you in my arms again."

Honour drove the heel of her boot into the toe of his.

"YOW!! Damn, woman, that hurt!" he yelped, but did not release his grip on her.

She tried again to stomp his other foot, but he was ready and moved it out of her way. Growing angrier by the second, she began stomping repeatedly, trying to injure him again. But even in his drunken state, he managed to evade her.

"I believe we've invented a new dance, love!" he laughed.

His laughter came to an abrupt stop as her elbow dug hard into his ribs.

"OW! Dammit! STOP!"

He loosened his grip on her and she took a swing at him, narrowly missing his face. He grasped her by the wrist and she gasped for breath.

Jack chuckled, "I always did enjoy watching you try to catch your breath but for a different reason. The soft glow of sweat-sheen and a heaving bosom..."

"You're disgusting!"

"You didn't always think so."

"And you are drunk!"

"Am I? Well, your powers of observation deserve the bleedin' obvious award."

He pulled her close to him, still not letting go of her wrist.

"It's a smaller world than they'd have you imagine, love. Smaller than I had ever imagined though you could have fooled me for the amount of time I spent scouring the Caribbean for you, that's for sure. But I always knew some day you would come walking through my door again. And here we are."

Jack caressed her cheek with his fingertips. "And we can still catch up on old times, yeah? Did you honestly think I had quit burning for you?"

"I would have thought you had put that fire out a long time ago. I know I did."

"Some fires never die, love. No matter how much we'd like them to."

Jack chuckled ruefully, "No matter how far and wide I've sailed, you always manage to find your way into my dreams. And what fine dreams they be! Short of what we've known of each other, but fine dreams nonetheless. A poor substitute for your exquisite touch, I'll grant that."

Honour's eyes softened. "You know, Jack, we could... restart that fire you spoke of."

"Now you're talking, love! I knew you'd come round--"

"And use it to burn those clothes of yours! Did you stop bathing when I left, too?"

Jack gave a chuckle at her barb. "Walked into that one, didn't I? That lightning wit of yours. I've missed that, too. See how much we have to catch up on?"

"We have NOTHING. Nothing to catch up on, nothing to reminisce, nothing to look forward to with each other, save our goodbyes."

"What's this about goodbye? We haven't had a proper hello yet."

He nodded toward his table. "Let's sit and talk, like normal people."

Honour couldn't contain a sharp, derisive laugh. "Normal people? Do you even know what normal means?"

"Enough to fake it in front of this lot," he shrugged. "Just fifteen minutes. That's all I ask. Then we can part ways peacefully."

"Five."

"Twelve."

"Seven."

"Ten. Final offer."

"All right, fine. Ten minutes, and not a second more."

[The Doctor]

Jack took her by the elbow and propelled her towards his table. Unceremoniously he gave her a push and she landed hard in the seat. Just as quick, he took his seat and placed a booted foot on each side of her, successfully blocking any exit until he said so. He crossed his arms and smiled disarmingly at her.
"Now, isn't this better? Can I get you a whiskey?"
She laughed bitterly, "No thank you. I haven't been able to stomach it since that night I became your bride."
"Well, this is hardly the greeting I would have expected."
"What did you expect? That I would throw myself in your arms and beg you to take me back?"
'Something like that. Yeah, that and a dose of humility on the side would be a nice touch."
She leaned back and smiled. "What makes you think you haven't been replaced, Jack? In all aspects of my life. After all, we have been separated for quite a while."
Jack smirked at his beloved and leaned towards her.

"Ah....replaced. Not quite the word I was thinking of."
He tapped his chin, deep in thought. Then he snapped his fingers. "Substituted! That's the word! Substituted. A much better word. And so have you, but that is neither here nor there. Never replaced. Yes, we have been apart a long time. Far too long. But do you remember the time we spent in Castara? That poor tree? And those words of love we whispered to one another? Do they keep you warm on cold winter nights? You can't forget them, no matter how hard you try. I know it keeps me hot....WARM! I meant warm."

"You're like Muir with a bone, only worse," she said with an exasperated roll of her brilliant blue eyes.

"Do you intend to waste all ten minutes staggering down memory lane? Let me help you out here, Jack. All those words we spoke, all the... everything else..."

She paused to shudder. "It all became meaningless when you drew that pistol and threatened to kill me in your drunken fit of jealous rage. I didn't do that. You did. Now, I've put all that behind me and moved on. That's what you need to do. Get over it and move on. I'm out of your life and you're out of mine, and I prefer it that way."

Jack gave a resigned sigh. "I suppose you're right. I've been holding a candle for you all this time, and it's one more flame that should be extinguished."

"Now you're talking some sense, Jack. We had our brief day in the sun, but that ended. Life goes on, and so should we."
"I agree. But before we part ways for good, I have a question. More a request, actually."

"And what is that?" Honour asked warily.
"Since our marriage is over, as you've so clearly impressed upon me, then I suspect the sentimental keepsake we exchanged hold no value for you?"

"What?"
"Say, a certain brassy disc with all manner of spindly arms sticking out from its leering face? Remember it?"

Honour's eyes narrowed. "I remember it. That was your sorry excuse for a wedding ring."
"The hour was late and I had to improvise."
"The hour was late, and you wanted in my bed."
"Pot-a-to, po-tah-to. Do you still have it?"

Honour looked steadily at Jack. "My, my...for a piece of jewelry that wasn't impressive in the first place, you seem to want it pretty badly.

What makes you think I even have it? And if I did, why would I, in a fit of generosity, turn it back to you? I certainly wish I could remember what happened to it. It was so long ago. Why, it could be anywhere. In my room. At the bottom of the ocean. On the bosom of a noblewoman in England. Of course, it would have to be a very large woman. And kind of homely too..."

Jack feigned a defeated posture for a moment, then smiled sardonically. "Well, good for you, love. You've bested ol' Jack at his own game. Nicely played."

She sighed. "If you REALLY must know what happened to it, I gave it to a captain. He in turn sold it for me and gave me the profit.

Didn't ask a percentage, either. Just did it as a favor to a friend. Well, if you want to find it, I daresay it could be on the chest of any high-classed noblewoman. I'd start looking in the Caribbean. Failing that, I'd start in Cornwall and work my way across the continent."

She gave Jack a stern look. "Are we done here? I have shopping to do."
Jack shook his head slowly and used his feet to pull her chair a little closer to the table. "I don't believe you. See, I remember how you get when you're cornered. You throw up all manner of possibilities and distractions in hopes you can confuse the other person with twisty-turny logic. Well, sunshine, it's not going to work this time. I want the trinket."

"Read my lips. I don't HAVE it! But what if I told you I have something to offer that's far more impressive than that horrid bit of shine you're so fixated on?"
"And what could that possibly be, my pet?"
"This table."

"What? What are you---"
Honour grabbed hold of the table, gave it a quick twist so one of the legs was lined up with her estranged husband's crotch, and shoved hard.
But Jack was quicker.
"Darling you know how particular I am about the family jewels," his eyes glittering hard into hers. "I was rather hoping for a playful game of footsie, but I can see that's out of the question now. So back to the matter at hand..."

"Jack, I don't have it, how many ways do I have to say it?"

"Sweetness, the one thing I've come to learn about you is that the more you protest, the less believable you are. I'll admit, we both felt the thunder. But that bit of gold I gave you is far too large and ornate for you to have merely pawned off somewhere. What I'm offering is that there are two keys to a chest in my possession. I have one of them. I, in a moment of indiscretion, gave the other to you. Now, if you'd kindly accompany me aboard my ship, I'll tell you how I came upon the chest after our matrimony."

"Jack, how stupid do you think I am? I board your ship, what is to stop you from pulling up anchor and I will be your bounded prisoner? Let's say I have the Sun pendant and I hand it over to you. What would stop you from pitching me overboard? I unloaded that amulet as soon as I could. I'll tell you the truth. If you really want it, it is in the coffers of St. Armand's Church. In exchange for a confession well-done. Can't remember the name of the town but it is between Barbados and Havana. THAT should give you something to occupy your time. Think of it as a treasure hunt! I know how you loved them!"

She crossed her arms and gave him that look of defiance he had come to know all too well during their brief one-month encounter.

"So you see--I am of no further use to you. I suggest we both go see the magistrate and end this travesty of a marriage. Then you can buy me that ale AT THE TAVERN and regale me with your little fairytale of how you came in possession of this so-called chest. IF you even have it!"

Jack smirked, "You know what, love? I almost believed you for a moment. But knowing how your mind works, you're hoping I'll divulge more. Well, my sweet, I've learned a lesson or two since our last pairing. Foremost, I should never tell you too much. Secondly, you're better off not thinking that every single word out of my mouth is a lie. Only every other word. Every third word on a Sunday. So, when I tell you I have the chest in question, and the Moon key, I'm actually being honest with you. I only wish I'd known about the nature of the chest before I gave you that key. I need that key. It's a fair offer, love. Half the contents of the chest and your freedom to sweeten the deal."

Honour leaned against the wall and ran her fingers through her hair, twisting the ends as was her manner when she was deep in thought. Jack knew this in their brief month together that this was a tell-tale sign that the wheels were turning in her mind.
He grinned and leaned closer to her. She quickly whipped out her bodice dagger.

He deftly took the dagger out her hand and flipped it over his shoulder. It clattered on the tile floor behind him.
"Now let us say for the sake of argument I DO have that hideous key. Well, since you once promised me the moon...I prefer to deal with you for the moment on the grounds of mutual respect. But I have no assurance you won't pull that pistol on me once you have what you want. So....what assurance DO I have that I will be alive once the chest is opened? And make it fast because I have plans tonight."

Jack smiled. "Yes, I promised you the Moon. But the Sun was all I had to give at the moment, much to my later dismay. Thank you for confirming that you still have it! I was beginning to get worried. You need assurances that I'll keep you alive? I'm willing to share half the contents of the chest and even if it is empty, you go on about doing whatever it is you do. You'll never hear from me again."

"You have no assurances. I would need to think this over. I am not that foolish girl you married. I'm twenty-one now! And I have a new..."
Jack raised his eyebrow.
She continued, "Never mind. I'd have to see this chest before I make any decisions. Grant you, I am NOT saying I have the key. Or even know where it is. Now---a gentleman would retrieve my bodice dagger for me."

"Retrieve your dagger? But of course!" Jack bowed , swept, and produced Honour's blade. "I see you've kept it as sharp as I taught you to. Well done."
He gently returned the dagger to its scabbard, slipping it between her ample breasts into its sheath. "Now about that breast...I mean CHEST! " Meeting her eye to eye, he continued. "So, you wish to see the chest? It's in my cabin. Twelve hours. I'll meet you on the docks, and you bring the Sun. We open the chest together, in my cabin. And we share whatever wealth is contained within."
Jack smiled broadly, and stole a kiss from her. "Twelve hours, love! And all this will be behind us! You know where to find me. And I'll be waiting for you."

[Honour Bright]

Honour waited a half hour to give Jack Wolfe enough time to go...wherever he went.

'Probably to that house with the red door and into the arms of the first doxy that answered it.'

She shrugged. 'What do I care what he does anymore? It doesn't concern me....'

But that annoying small voice inside her said, 'Like hell it doesn't.'

She ran her fingers through her hair and muttered, 'Shut up.'

Honour sighed and looked cautiously out the tavern window. No sign of him. She opened the door. The gloam of a November evening cast shadows on the buildings, giving Honour a sense of foreboding. She couldn't help but cast her eyes right and left.

No, no familiar tricorn. Still glancing left and right, she headed towards the Castle and Ball inn where she had taken a room with Cade. But it didn't stop her from looking behind her all the way to her room.

As she opened the door, there was Cade setting food on the small table. A bottle of madeira was decanting.

'Still no merlot.....he still doesn't remember I like merlot. Jack always...stop it, Honour! Just stop it. It doesn't matter anymore.....'

"So there you are! I thought you would have been back before this."

She hung her cloak up.

"Oh...you know how distracted I get by a great pair of boots. I mean, when I see boots that are in the cobbler's window."

"And did you buy any?"

"Hmm?"

"Boots. Did you buy any boots?"

"Oh....no, he didn't have them in white which is what I wanted."

"Too bad. So let's sit down and eat before this stew gets cold. I'll set the dishes outside the door so we won't be disturbed."

She sat at the edge of the bed and dropped her skirt and bodice, removing her boots. Taking the ribbon out of her hair she shook her braid loose.

He grinned. "Now that is the way I like you. Barefoot and at a disadvantage in your chemise."

She gave him a small smile and sat down at the table.
"Let's just eat and see what the night brings, shall we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the 5:00 AM meeting on the dock in the subconscience of her mind, Honour raised her head and looked at the old clock on the mantle.

'Uhh....time for me to get up, I suppose. I should just forget it. That chest probably holds nothing but a bunch of baubles. Why would whoever have the keys not have unlocked it by now? I should just stay here....'
She snuggled closer to her Cade, his arms around her. The only problem was when they were making love it wasn't Cade but Jack Wolfe she fantasized about. Every touch, every kiss, every caress....no matter how much she tried to dispel it, memories of their intimate times together would not go away.

The nagging thought of the chest and its possibilities kept her from sleeping.
She sighed. 'May as well get this over with. IF I decide to hand over the Sun key.'
She extricated herself slowly from Cade. Carefully she took her pillow and placed it where she was. No sense waking him up and having to explain this crazy stunt.

She quietly got dressed, putting on breeches instead of a skirt. 'Never know when I may have to make a break for it. I don't need a skirt in the way.'

She looked over to where her rapier was, hesitation on her face. 'If the thought even crossed my mind to take it, then take it I shall.'

She scabbarded it and put it on. Reaching over to where she had dropped her clothes the night before, she picked up her bodice dagger and put it in place.
Lastly she slipped the Sun Key in her bodice.

'What am I doing? That is the first place Captain Jack Wolfe would look. '

She put it in her boot and then inserted her sgian dubh. That should camouflage it. Wrapping herself in her cloak, she started out the door.
"Honour? Where the hell are you going, love?" Cade's sleepy voice came from the bed.
Oh dear, the Inquisition begins....
"Nowhere, darling. Just go back to sleep. I have to run an errand and I'll be right back."
"It's barely daylight, for God's sake."

She thought fast. "Well, if you want to get the freshest bread and fruit, you have to hit the docks early. Don't worry. I'll be back within the hour."

Before he could give her the third degree, she let herself out, locking the door behind her.

The sun was just starting to come up over the town. With a bravado she did not feel, she headed towards the docks. Her fingers nervously tapped the hilt of her rapier.

'What am I doing? I should be back in a nice warm bed. Instead I am meeting the Devil himself.'
Within ten minutes she reached the docks. Shading her eyes, she gave a sigh of relief.
'Looks like I have been stood up...'

[The Doctor]

The sun rose over the sea like the Phoenix. Jack watched from the quarterdeck over his morning cup, and smiled at the promise of Honour bringing the Sun key.

A lookout called from his post.

"Cap'n! She's at the docks, but she's stopped! "

"That figures. She always was a big tease," said Jack.

Josiah snorted sharply.

"Just take the key and be done with it!"

Jack grabbed a rum bottle from behind the binnacle and took a deep tug. He walked down the steps to the gun deck and called out to the small form of his bride through the speaking trumpet. "Oi! You! The pretty blonde! Yeah, you, love! Don't be so shy, for you know I don't bite... too roughly! That's it! Come this way, or I shall voice more personal matters for all the good people of this town to hear!"

Jack smiled as Honour grudgingly walked down the pier.

"You said to meet you on the docks. Well, this is the docks and this is where I am standing. So get your arse down here, Captain Jack Wolfe. I'll not venture any further. This is neutral ground. You should be glad I made it down here at all, having met you here at this ungodly hour."

"As you wish!" Jack called, and he laughed as he handed the speaking trumpet off to Josiah. Jack hung his justacorp on the binnacle, and strode down the deck to the gangplank, then to the dock. "How poetic is it, my lovely Honour, that you greet me with the Sun? I hope in more ways than one!"

He took five casual steps forward. "Now, what is that on your lovely hip... a blade? I hoped we were over all that, darling."

She took five steps back.

"You think I have what you need and after you have it, you shall be done with me. How typical of you. I hand over the key and what assurance do I have that my back will be to your rudder in the next hour? And I don't mean floating face down. How can I trust you that I will still be alive an hour from now?"

Jack took a step towards her and she made a motion to unsheath her rapier. "You know I can wield this with the best of them. After all, who taught me the finer points of thrust and parry?"

"I remember those days love," he said, with an almost feral smile. "Quite the student you were. And how exciting the lessons! I wonder... how much do you remember? But I have no desire to search your lovely body for the Sun key. I take it you indeed have the item you so mightly protested not to have."

Jack assumed a relaxed stance. "You can quit fondling that blade, love. We have business to attend to. I swear, upon pain of death, that you shall return to this very dock. You're more a liability to me dead than alive, love. And upon the completion of our business, you'll get that divorce you're so hot after."

"I knew you could be reasonable in the end, Jack. You always were impressed by a woman with a blade even if you wouldn't admit it. It always got your blood hot. So let us negotiate and get this taken care of so I can go back to bed. IF--and this is a big IF--I decide to hand over the Sun Key, we split the treasure 50/50 and I regain my freedom from you. You promise to go right to the magistrate's and sign the papers and we part. If those are the terms, then yes. We have an accord."

She extended her hand to Jack.

Jack took her hand and rubbed the back of it gently. She withdrew her hand.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Doing? Doing what?"

She gave him a withering look. "I said I would look at this chest and then decide if it is worth my time and effort. I'll give you an hour. No more, no less."

"Fair enough," he grinned. "Remember how much we could accomplish in an hour? Of course you were unclothed then...."

"Shut it, Jack. Ancient history. Like the pyramids."

She turned on her heel and walked resolutely down the dock. Tilting her head up towards El Lobo del Mar, she called out, "I'm not asking permission to come aboard, Briggs. I am telling you I am coming aboard. And not because I want to. It's because your captain requests the honour of my presence."

Briggs stood at the gunwale as Honour climbed the gangway, Jack following closely behind.

"Don't ye be concerned none about formalities, Honour," started Briggs. "If it were up to me--"

He broke off when Jack began making quick gestures for him to be quiet.

Honour paused and looked back at Jack, who gave her a suspiciously pleasant smile. She continued on the last few feet and stepped on to the deck.

"You were saying, Josiah?" she asked.

"It's been a long time, Honour. Welcome aboard."

"I promise to make it brief, I assure you."

"Aye, that much I figured. Ye remember the way to the captain's quarters?"

Honour ignored the heat she felt in her cheeks. "I believe I do. And I'm sure my escort will make sure I don't get lost."

"At your service," smiled Jack. "Shall we?"

She stared for a moment at the door to the companionway and gave a resigned sigh.

"I've come this far. Why not?"

"Care to go all the way, love?"

She whirled on him and he gave her an innocent look.

"I meant all the way to my cabin. For Pete's sake, Honour, get your mind out of the gutter."

Briggs stifled a laugh.

"Jerk. I'll find my way."

Jack reached over to the binnacle and took a swig of rum and watched appreciatively as Honour walked down the companionway.

"What is in your mind, Jack? Let's just get the key and get her off this ship!"

Jack framed his fingers and positioned them onto a picture of Honour's backside walking away.

"Ah...she still has it! Hasn't gotten too broad in the beam!"

He picked up a bottle of merlot from the binnacle and headed down following her.

"If I am not out in an hour, Briggs, just don't come looking for me till around...oh, tomorrow morning."

"Aye, Jack. A touching farewell to the lass or is that a thank you for the gift of a key?"

Jack shrugged. "It remains to be seen but hell, I have to get some retribution. Oh...let's say....twenty-four chests of guilder's worth?"

"Take more than twenty-four hours to make that up."

Jack winked, "Not if you know how to use it right!"

[Honour Bright]

Honour reached the door to the great cabin and paused. She had half expected Jack to make a lunge for the door to make sure she went inside. As she turned, she saw him walking briskly toward her.
"There you are!" she said. "What happened, did you get lost again?"
"Miss me, dear?"
"Hardly. But I knew something was amiss when I felt neither your breath on my neck or your eyes undressing me."
"Really? I can make up for it, I promise."
"Save if for someone who's interested," she replied. "The chest, remember? And not mine, in case you're confused at all."
Jack reached past her to the doorknob, making the most of the confined space they were sharing. Honour rolled her eyes.
The door opened with a satisfying clack. "There you are, my darling. More or less as you remember it."

She stepped into the great cabin and looked around. Clothes were tossed haphazardly on the deck and on furniture, books and charts strewn and stacked on the desk and the large table. And in the middle of the mess on the bed lay the ship's cat, Puddin'.
"It looked better after the fight with Mendoza," she answered.

Jack closed the door behind him. At the sound of the latch, Honour turned back to him abruptly.
"Don't you dare lock that, Jack. I'm warning you!"

Jack opened the door again to show her it was indeed unlocked, and shut it again quietly. "Satisfied?"
She shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry. Trusting you isn't something I find easy anymore."
"You and the rest of the world," he said ruefully.

"What does that mean?" His eyes took on a faraway look. "Oh....nothing. Nothing at all."
But his mind drifted back to the days when he tried to salvage the smuggling operation in Tobago and how it all fell apart. How everything fell apart.
Honour stretched out over the bed.
"And there is my little man! Have you been a good kitty?"
Puddin' rolled over and batted her hand. She petted him under the chin, the grey ship's cat lifting his head up and closing his eyes.
Jack poured a glass of merlot and handed it to her.
"Never thought I would see you in my bed again, Honour." He handed her the glass.
She got up quickly. "I was not IN your bed. I was ON your bed. Get your mind off that, because it won't happen again."
He poured himself a glass and took a deep drink.
"I stand grammatically corrected. But I do remember how you love merlot. Especially before we---"
"Let's get down to business, shall we? Then we can finish this. You get what you want. The key. I get what I want. A divorce."
Jack sighed. "Very well." He walked over to a crate marked Print Werks.
"There it is. In there."

He went to the crate and pulled the lid free. Honour stifled a gasp as filtered sunlight danced on the surface of the golden chest that lay within. Jack lifted the chest free and placed it gently on the deck beside the bed.
"Either you've gotten a lot stronger, or that's not solid gold," she observed.
"My guess is, it's wood covered in a heavy layer of gold. A bit like the Ark of the Covenant, and every bit as impervious. I've tried everything to get it open, and nothing works."
"Except the keys?" asked Honour.
"Exactly! The keys." He patted the pockets of his waistcoat. ""The... keys. I could have sworn I put the moon key in my pocket...."

"You're kidding me. You put me through all this, and you misplaced your key??"

"Not misplaced, mislaid."
"They mean the same thing, Oxford boy."
"Just... let me concentrate! Ah! I know where it is. Stay here, drink some wine, and play with the cat. I'll be back in a flash."

Jack exited the cabin, leaving an astonished Honour there by herself.
"At least there's one man aboard this godforsaken ship I've missed. And how is mama's little man, eh?"
Puddin' purred loudly and rolled onto his back.

Jack walked briskly down the companionway towards the weather deck, trying hard not to let his boot heels make too much noise against the deck planks. The last thing he wanted was for Honour to figure out he was up to something, even though he wasn't quite sure himself what that something was. As he emerged onto the weather deck, he saw Briggs standing next to the main mast, enjoying his pipe. Briggs turned at the sound of Jack's approach.
"I didn't expect to see ye up here so soon. Where be the wife mate?"
"She's still in my cabin," said Jack. "I told her I needed to check on something."
"What about the chest? Did it open like ye hoped?"
"We, um, haven't exactly tried to open it quite yet."
Briggs took a long pull on his pipe, the smoke swirling about his head like gathering storm clouds.

"Why have I got a bad feelin' about this?" he asked rhetorically.
"I promise, I'll explain later. But for now, I need you to do something, and very quietly."
"And what might that be, even though I'm afraid to ask?"
"I know this will sound... unusual..."
"That's nothin' new with you."
"I want you to cast off."
Briggs nearly choked on his pipe.
"You WHAT??"
"Shhhh! You heard me, Josiah! Cast off. QUIETLY. Like we did when we slipped out of Tortuga with that French battleship tied up next to us."
"You're kidnappin' her? Seriously? What are ye thinkin', Jack? She made your life hell when she left. Do ye really think things will be any better when she figures out ye shanghaied her? Ye might as well rub yer arse in bacon grease and call up the Kraken!"

"Note for future reference, Josiah: no more metaphors. Now, just do as I ask."
Briggs shook his head slowly. "Ye haven't thought this through one bit, have ye?"
"Not exactly, no," admitted Jack reluctantly. "But I know this is what needs to be done."
"I'd be a bigger fool than you if I agree."
"You've made it clear that's impossible. Just do it."
With a heavy and resigned sigh, Briggs relented. "Fine, we'll cast off, just as ye want. But have ye given a though how to keep her distracted whilst we make for open water? There's a fair chop near the mouth of the bay, remember. I can make the ship run quiet, but I can't make her ride smooth."

"I'll come up with a plan, Josiah. No worries." Jack began walking back to the companionway. "Thank you, my friend. This will work, trust me!"

Briggs chewed on the end of his pipe as he watched his friend and captain disappear below decks.
"It'll work, all right. It'll work to make her madder than the devil himself!"

[Honour Bright]

Honour looked out the door and saw no sign of Jack. 'Alright, Jackie, my love, let me do a bit of snooping to see what you have been up to while I have been away.'
She opened up the bottom drawer.
Nothing of significance except....

She pulled out a pair of pantalets in white silk. 'Hey, these aren't mine!' Her face burned red. 'What do you care? It's over. Long over. And in a few days, this won't concern you ever again.'
She flung the armoire open. 'My gowns! The yellow one...the red one....the blue one from Paris....
She held it up to her nose. 'This isn't jasmine...it's roses. And cheap ones at that! The blue one....gardenias?'
Each gown had a distinct perfumed odor. She held the blue dress up. Under the arm was a big rip. The yellow gown had a stain on the front. Merlot? And some sort of sauce was on the sleeve.

Just at that moment Jack came in. He quietly locked the door behind him, slipping the key into his pocket.

She yelled at Jack, "You let your cut-rate whores wear my clothes?"
Honour threw down the gowns and raised her hand to slap Jack. He caught her hand just in time. She whispered vehemently, "You bloody bastard! These gowns were from Paris!"

"Let me start by saying those 'whores' you referred to were rather expensive. And why should you be so upset, given that you've been out of the picture for some time, love? I never expected to see you again."

"I don't care if you paid them in Aztec gold and you swung on chandeliers! What makes me mad is the fact that they squeezed their sausage bodies into my clothes!The blue one looks like it can't be fixed. What did she have, arms like an ox? To split a dress like that! And she must have had a hand-eye coordination problem because it looks like merlot cascading down the front of my yellow one!"
She threw the dress in Jack's face.
"If it can't be cleaned, you owe me one yellow dress! From Paris! Buy yourself as many strumpets as you want! I haven't exactly been sitting around a widow's walk knitting and waiting for you to come home! And whatever trinkets you have that you THINK I may be mildly curious about, well, I suggest you pitch any of them into the sea. Because like the Sun key, guaranteed in six months you will want it back!"

All of a sudden, she got a curious look on her face. "Wait...what? This ship...it--it's MOVING!"
She ran over to the port window, the port of Bridgetown getting smaller in the distance.
"We're moving! Oh no you don't, you bastard!"
She rushed to the door, shouldering Jack aside in the process. Furiously, she twisted the door knob and tried to rattle the door open. But nothing she did worked.
"OPEN THIS DOOR!" she shouted.
Jack leaned casually against the large wooden table, pretending to pick dirt from under his nails.
"Say please," he said casually.
"Go to hell," she replied.
"Impolite, but heartfelt. I can respect that. But I'm not opening the door."
"Why the hell not? How dare you kidnap me, Jack Wolfe! This wasn't part of our agreement!"
"Agreed, this wasn't what we agreed on. But I knew you'd never cooperate if I told you WHERE the chest has to be opened."
"Let me guess," said Honour sarcastically. "Somewhere in the middle of the ocean, under a full moon with both of us naked?"
"Close," said Jack flatly.

"WHAT?! Oh, hell no. Over my dead body!"
"How melodramatic of you. There will be no dead bodies, at least not yours or mine. That wouldn't be much fun for either of us. Not to mention certain ethical considerations."
"Fine," she fumed. "Just where does this damned thing have to be opened?"
"It has to be placed inside an altar, in the middle of a temple on a remote island."
"That's a feeble lie, even for you, Jack. You expect me to believe you would kidnap me just to drag me to some island to open a stupid chest? All right, exactly where is this mythical island? What is it near? Show me on a map."
"Um, well..."
"Well, what?" Her face fell suddenly. "Oh, God, please no. You don't know where it is, do you?"

"Not exactly. But I have a pretty good idea...."
"Then the island IS real."
"Yes, it is. What made you suddenly believe me?"
"Because, Jack, only you would come up with some half-baked plan to kidnap me and haul me off to some island you don't know the location of, because you're just that crazy!"
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Whatever. I'll take it."

Jack sat down in one of the chairs.
"Honour, you're right. I didn't plan this. Running into you in that tavern was a complete stroke of luck."
"Bad luck, if you ask me."
"Let me finish, all right? We can split hairs later. I need that key to open the chest, and I knew you'd never just hand it over. That would be too easy, and easy is the last thing I'd call our relationship."
"You're right about that," she replied. "I'd call it nonexistent."
"Which brings me to why you're my guest aboard El Lobo. That's the only way I could see getting the second key to the island. So let me sweeten the deal."
"This I have to hear."
"As per our original deal, you get half of whatever is in the chest. But to guarantee your safety, you get to retain possession of the key until we unlock the chest."
"And if I decide to say to hell with your deal and chuck the key overboard? What then?"
Jack made a pained expression. "That's where the new deal isn't so sweet. You throw the key overboard, and you get to join it."

[The Doctor]

"You wouldn't dare," she said defiantly.

"Maybe. Maybe not. I might show mercy on you, for old time's sake. We'll pass close to an island used by an old... I wouldn't call him a friend, but a colleague. I could drop you off there and see if he'll eventually take you back to Barbados. But I have to warn you, he's not terribly fond of blondes. Not after one crippled his hands."

Honour's face blanched. "That won't be necessary. I shall play by the rules as long as you live up to your end of the bargain."

"You have my word."

"As a pirate? HA!"

"How about as someone who used to be your husband."

"Not much better, Jack. But seeing as how I am a prisoner here, I have no choice."

Jack leaned over. He took her chemise neckline and pulled her close to him. He slowly ran his finger across the swell of her dress. She felt her heart skip a beat. He leaned in close and she unconsciously closed her eyes and started to part her lips. He whispered, "I'll be taking this."

He reached in and deftly removed her bodice dagger.

Her eyes flew open.

"And I'll be taking this too." He unsheathed her rapier.

"Such lovely, shiny cutlery. Off to the armoury with it! You will get it back when this is all over. I prefer you vulnerable. In more ways than one."

Jack took a step forward as she took one back. Back. Forward. Back. Forward. Until there was no more backing up since she hit the wall.

He leaned forward.

"Feeling a bit naked, love? No weapons to protect yourself with?"

She found she couldn't tear her eyes away from his. Just like it was months ago.

"And...and where am I to sleep? Certainly...oh, no. No! You intend to ravish me!"

Jack opened his mouth to offer some pithy reply, but found he was beginning to lose himself in her ever so blue eyes, just as he had so many times before. He swallowed hard and put his hand up in between them as he collected his thoughts and figuratively established some space between himself and his wife.

"As... tempting as that sounds, love, no. No, I promised you this would be a business transaction. For the sake of what good faith remains, I'll respect that. But for the time being, I'm going to put your toys in a safe place. You can have them back once we get to the island."

He turned to walk to the door, but stopped and looked back at her.

"That is, unless you really had your heart set on getting ravished, in which case I'd be more than happy..."

His voiced trailed off as she began to glower at him.

"I'll take that as a no. In that case, You can have Briggs' quarters. I suppose I should have asked him first, but I can take his yelling over yours."

"Of course if you do find yourself all...bothered, I'll leave my door unlocked.

"Besides, I'd rather you get used to being around me again. Nothing deflates a man's....ego more than you yelling out another captain's name when he's tupping you."

He turned and walked out the door without so much as a backward glance at her. Inexplicably, she felt a solitary tear trail down her cheek. She wiped it with the back of her hand. She felt degraded. How dare Jack turn what wonderful thing that happens between a man and a woman into something cheap and shameful.

She sat there, her fingers idly twisting the fringe on the coverlet. A feeling of worthlessness swept over her. But suddenly she felt an anger overtaking her humiliation.

How dare he...how DARE he?

If anyone knew about tawdry relationships, it was Jack Wolfe, equal opportunity debaucher.She reached into her boot and stood up. He's no better than me and to equate it to.....sheep. Sheep!

Resolutely she strode over to the door, her hurt fueling every step.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack took out his keys and opened the small door where weapons were kept. He unceremoniously dumped her weaponry where the rest was and locked it.

Suddenly a sense of shame overcame him for using his barbs to humiliate Honour.

He momentarily thought about going back to the cabin and apologising- in a roundabout way, of course- for his cutting remarks. But just then he heard the cabin door swing open and the sound of boot heels striking the deck. Angrily.

'No point in going back to offer an apology when she's on the way to demand one,' he thought.

He locked the armoury door and quickly made his way to the weather deck. The more witnesses, the less likely she would be to make a big scene, he reasoned.

Jack squinted as he stepped into the sunlight.

"I didn't expect to see ye for at least another four hours," Briggs called from the quarterdeck.

"Not bloody likely," laughed Jack. "Things are under control. We can leave it at that."

"No crockery thrown this time?"

"She's cooperating peaceably enough---"

"BASTARD!!"

[The Doctor]

Startled by the outburst, Jack looked over to where Honour stood at the door to the companionway.

"Ah! Honour! There you are!" he said as he backed away gingerly. "I, ah, was about to come and talk to you."

She continued to stare daggers at him. "Were you, now?"

"Yes! I, you see, I was thinking about what I said--" His words broke off when he backed into the mainmast. "-- about what I said earlier."

"Really? When I'm cooperating so peaceably? Well, how's THIS for peaceable?!"

In a flash, she launched the sgian dubh she had pulled from her boot. It whistled through the air as it flew at Jack. He flinched, and the blade caught the material of his shirt, pinning him to the mast.

"ARE YOU INSANE??!! You could have killed me!"

"Nonsense. I was aiming at your head."

He grabbed the hilt of the short knife. It refused to come free from the mast.

"You nearly hit my good shoulder, woman! I don't need a hole in that one too!"

Honour put her hands on her hips and struck a pose that prominently showcased her ample cleavage.

"Really? I know how fond you are of symmetry."

Jack still struggled with the knife as she sauntered over to him. She whispered in his ear, 'I guess this is the closest you will get to being nailed.'

By this time, Jack's crew gathered around but stayed at a respectable distance.

'just wait till I get my hands free....damn...this is silk....uh....'

Amusing as it was to watch Jack's shirt impaled on the mainmast with him in it, she decided it would be best to retire to a place untill he cooled off.

Preferably Tortuga.

She scampered quickly down the companionway but not before she yelled her parting thoughts.

'Tup you and the ship you sailed in on!'

Briggs put the pipe in his mouth to hide the smirk on his face as he went over to help Jack free himself.

"Embedded too deep right now, Jack. 'fraid the shirt has to...'RIIIIPPPP!

As the force of the shirt gave way, Jack found himself on the deck looking up at the crow's nest and a sky of blue. His head rebounded off the teak. He scrambled to his feet. "What are you looking at, you scabrous dogs?! All of you, to your posts! Don't make me say it twice!"

Josiah's back was turned, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Holding his aching head, Jack looked at Briggs' smirking face. "Josiah, do not make me kill you today..."

Jack began to notice something other than the sea breeze on his back. It was the sound of his men chuckling. His face began to burn hot with embarrassment.

"That's it, the show is over. Back to your posts, the lot of you! Unless you're willing to spend the next two weeks without a drop of rum!"

The men dispersed, returning to their duties. Jack watched them for a moment before turning to talk to Briggs.

However, Briggs was in no state to talk. He stood there looking at his captain, with his hand over his mouth. Jack couldn't tell if he was hiding a smile or stifling an outburst of laughter.

"Not you too," grumbled Jack.

"I'll say this for Honour, she ain't lost a bit of fire."

"No, no she hasn't," said Jack. In spite of the humiliation he'd just experienced, he couldn't help but feel a certain admiration for her. Once again, she proved herself his equal. No wonder he could never get over her.

"I take it ye'll be findin' another shirt, Jack? Or is this a new fashion statement?"

"Wise-arse. The ship is yours til I get back. With a new shirt."

Briggs offered him Honour's knife. "Souvenir of your busy day?"

"Keep the damned thing. I've quite done with it," muttered Jack as he stalked off.

[The Doctor]

Honour walked quickly down the hall to Jack's quarters to pick up a few of the less destroyed garments. The door reverberated as she slammed it shut. She caught several books as they started to fall from the shelf. What boring books! Oh, what have we here? She pulled a book out and could scarcely contain a giggle. Japanese prints, huh?
She hastily put the book back and picked up another one.
'Kama.....Kama Sutra. Kama Sutra? What is this?'
She opened it and quickly closed it. Curious, she opened it again. 'I didn't know that was physically possible...I guess if you don't mind the blood rushing to your head...'

Putting the books back on the shelf, Honour picked up a few of the dresses with the lesser amounts of stains. 'Perhaps a day in the fresh air from the crossbeam will get Eau de 'Ho out of my dresses.'

As she headed out, she turned back to the cabin and picked up the Kama Sutra. Thumbing through it, she began to look closely. Quite a few pages were dog-eared and there were checkmarks next to the graphic pictures. Once in a while a name was scrawled on the bottom. Her face began to burn when she realized she had stumbled across the equivalent of Jack's little black book. She hastily looked for her name on any of them but the pictures didn't seem familiar and her name was nowhere to be found.
'You bloody bastard!' she hissed. 'You've been keeping score. Well, let's see Jack Wolfe try it without a manual. I mean...with someone else.'
She shoved the book under her armful of clothes and headed back towards Briggs' quarters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Did you hear that?" asked Jack. He collapsed the spyglass he was using to survey the horizon and turned to Briggs at the ship's wheel.
"Felt it, too," answered Briggs. "I figured we brushed over some debris."
"No, that was right below our feet." Jack thought for a moment. "I'm going below to check things out. It would serve me right, leaving Honour alone-- I mean, unguarded."
Briggs nodded slowly. "Aye, I'm sure ye did."
Jack shook his head and made his way back to his quarters. Everything seemed quiet. He paused at the closed door to Briggs' cabin and raised his hand to knock. But he reconsidered, letting his hand drop to his side.

He went on to his cabin, and paused as he turned the doorknob. It seemed oddly loose. When the door swung open, it was missing its distinctive groaning squeak. Looking around the cabin, he saw only a couple of the dresses Honour had thrown a conniption over earlier. Jack smiled to himself.

Jack went to his desk and sat down, taking a moment to mark the ship's current position on the map. The island had to be on this course, he just knew it. Or was trying mightily to convince himself it was. He tapped a ruler absentmindedly on the desk. Whether he was right or not, it would be another two days, maybe more, before he knew for sure. If he was wrong, then kidnapping Honour had been a terrible mistake.

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe, now that some time had passed, they could talk things out...
He shook his head and laughed at the notion. Pure silly thought, that's all it was. Still, he felt a twinge of... guilt? Guilt for dragging her off on some wild expedition? Maybe if he'd taken her along on the trip to Martinique...

"Martinique!" he said with a slap of the ruler on the desktop.
He went quickly to a large sea chest that had been shoved in the corner. He opened the heavy lid and smiled with satisfaction. There, still on top and undamaged, was a large box. Undamaged save for the bow, which had seen better days. It contained a red dress, lovely and lacy, that he had bought as a coming home gift for Honour.
The dress was still in pristine condition.
"Just her style, and my favourite colour," he said as he closed the box and headed to her cabin door.

He knocked three times and waited.

"Who is it?" came Honour's voice through the door.
"Take a guess, dear," he said cheerily.
"Hmmm. Satan?"
Jack's expression soured a bit. "Hardly. Care to try again?"
"What do you want, Jack?"
"I have something for you, love. Are you decent?"
"Don't get your hopes up, Don Juan. Yes, I am."
"Then open the door."
"Why should I?"
"Because I have something nice for you. A gift."
"What is it?"
"It wouldn't be much of a gift if I told you what it was."
There was a long pause.
"You're determined to make me open this door, aren't you?
"That's the general idea, yes. It won't fit underneath."

She hastily shoved the book under the pillow.
Jack could hear the latch slide back, and Honour opened the door.
"This had better be some gift," she said with distrust.
He held out the box and smiled.
"Pour vous."
She looked at the box with the bedraggled ribbon and the look of pride and hopefulness on Jack's face and her heart melted a little.
"Oh....Jack."
She gently touched the ribbon.
"Well, it has seen better days. After all, it has been all over the Caribbean and it got a bit squashed in my chest."
She sat down on the bed with the package on her lap. "I picked it out with you in mind. I mean, it was a gift of a man to his wife. Except wifey wasn't there."
She felt a blush on her cheeks.

"Jack, you really didn't have to...."
"I wanted to. I guess I kept it in hopes that someday I could give it to you. No matter what happened between us."
She opened up the box and held up the contents.
"Oh....my! This is just beautiful!"
She stood up and held it up to her. "How does it look?"
"Can't tell a thing with it up to your shoulders and one leg sticking out. Go ahead and try it on."
She frowned.
"I don't know...."

Jack reclined on the bed and said, "Honour, there is nothing there that I haven't seen. Alright, so I haven't seen it in eighteen months.... oh don't get so pouty on me. I just want to....hello! What have we here?"
He lifted the pillow.
"Well, well, Miss Honour Bright! Doing a little research, are we? And you are already up to number.....69, is it?"
She felt her face burn. "It looks like you are the one who did quite a bit of research. Let's see...Monique...Isabelle....Simone..."
"You forgot Molly and Polly. I do believe they were number 34 and 35 respectively. Would you care to try for number 74?"
She retorted, "With or without the red dress?"
"There's no dress in there and you know it. Besides, I had no idea you were interested in a manual. If you want, I have a few other books and we can study them together."
She stood up. "You haven't changed. Not one bit."
"I haven't exactly had a reason to, darling. Being a pirate and living like a monk don't exactly go together."
"And I haven't lived like a nun. What do you say to that?"
He shrugged. "Off-setting sins. The scales are balanced. Now, how about those books..."
"You're impossible! I've never known anyone who can rationalise even the most outrageous circumstances!"
"Thank you, dear. I try."
"Get out," she said tersely.
"Oh, Honour, I'm sorry. I was just having a bit of fun..."
"Get out!"
"I said I was sorry!"
"And I said GET OUT! Take your damned dress with you!"

Jack got off the bed and backed toward the door. "I'm going to leave the dress with you. I meant it as a sincere gift."

"I don't care! I don't want to see it, or you!"
"Think it over. I'll be round later- much later- and you can give me a private showing. Of the dress."
Honour shot him a look that Jack knew well. A look that told him it was time to duck.

He moved quickly into the companionway, only to run right into a tall crewman named Davis.
"Sorry, cap'n! I didn't see you!" he said quickly.
"No worries, Davis. My clumsiness..."
"I said take this with you!" shouted Honour. She came out of the cabin with the dress wadded in her hands, and threw it as hard as she could at Jack. Reflexively, he ducked, and Davis got a face full of red French lace.
Honour didn't wait to see where the dress landed. She was too angry with Jack and his flippant attitude to even care. Not even the resounding slam of the door made her feel any better.

Jack looked up at Davis, who was still too confused by what has just happened to even move.
"Cap'n, what...?"
"Not your best look, mate," said Jack as he peeled the dress off Davis' head. "I'd go with blue or green next time. Presentation is everything, remember that."
"Um, all right..."
Jack draped the dress over his shoulder and walked back to his cabin.
He laid it on the bed and stared at it.
"Nicely done, Jack," he said to himself. "Why did I do that? Why do I let myself get so out of control with her?"
He sat down and stared dejectedly at the deck.
"Because you still love her, you fool," he admitted quietly.

[Honour Bright]

Honour felt herself tremble with indignation and anger. How dare he...how DARE he? Thinking he can buy me off with a dress and everything will be forgotten between us?
She felt hot tears well up in her eyes and hastily she wiped them away with her hand.

Crossing the room, she opened up the port window to catch a sea breeze. Anything to cool down the heat she felt.
Her mind was in such turmoil. She remembered how good it was with Jack. Since she had gone home to Wales and had Zara, she hadn't been with a man until she ran into Cade in town.
And she forgot how lonely she was and how much she missed it.
The lovemaking.
The whispered words of love. Being held afterwards.

While Cade was a terrific lover, there was something missing.
A connection that came with someone who was your soul mate.
But all Jack was interested was the Sun Key and he would use any means possible to ensure that he got it.
Even if it meant leading her on.
Empty promises. Or half-empty at best. She had seen that look in his eyes. The look that made her knees weak and her heart race...
"You're imagining things," she said to herself. Needing some mental distraction, she looked back at the book that lay on the table.


She picked up the book and thumbed through it. She felt a sense of jealousy and abandonment.
'Here while I was carrying his child and having the baby alone, he was sleeping with any doxy that crossed his wake. And I will wager I never crossed his mind. How much did the crew know? Did Jack bring his strumpets back to what used to be their bed? Or did he take his nocturnal activities off-ship?'
The condition of her dresses led her to believe otherwise.
'I'll bet Josiah had a good laugh at my expense. He was glad to be rid of me.'
She occasionally saw a look of--what was it? Pity? Or contempt?
Pity was one thing she couldn't bear.
The crew had changed since Honour was last on the ship. 'It seems to be a rougher group. Especially the man with the Cornish accent.' She caught him staring at her several times in a way that made her very uncomfortable.

All of a sudden, a wave of homesickness came over her. She crossed her arms over her chest to stop the heartache. Honour was overwhelmed with feelings of separation from the most important person in her life.
Her daughter.
And now Jack Wolfe was delaying her from returning to her child.
Once again, he was interfering with her life.
She picked up the book, the scribbled names almost taunting her from the dog-eared pages.

Honour threw the book with all her might at the wall.
"Bastard!"
She burst into tears and sobbed.
Finally when she was spent and her tears subsided, she crossed over to pick up the book. She slid the Sun Key into the pages of number 44 and 45. Those were the two that weren't dog-eared.
'Probably threw your back out with that one, Jack,' she thought bitterly.
She put the book back on the book shelf that was the headboard.
Propping a chair under the doorknob, to keep out any intruders, she hastily stripped off her dress and slid under the blanket, asleep before her head hit the pillow.

[The Doctor]

The morning sun broke over the horizon to the forward quarter of El Lobo as the ship knifed through the sea. Jack took a reading of the sun's position, compared it with the vessel's present heading, and made a slight course adjustment. As he lashed the wheel in place, he saw Josiah emerge on the weather deck. Jack smiled as he saw that the quartermaster was bringing more strong coffee.

"Your timing is excellent, Josiah. Thank you." He took the coffee and felt renewed at it's very aroma.

"Ahh...this is just what I needed."

Jack added a healthy dose of rum.

"Didn't sleep well last night."

Josiah held back his remark but the smirk plastered on his face told Jack what he was thinking.

"What was that look?"

"What look?"

"Uh huh," replied Jack. "It's not what you're thinking. I had a lot on my mind and little energy or desire to sort it out. So I thought, what better way to get a fresh start on things than to do a bit of reading in the fresh air?"

"All the books in that library ye call a cabin, and that's what ye chose? That infernal journal? I'm surprised ye ain't read the ink off the pages yet."

"This 'infernal book' is the reason we're out here, Josiah. You know that." Jack turned to a page he had marked with a strip of cloth. "I've been comparing these entries against the measurements I just took. I'd say we're about a day out from the island. give or take. The winds are following and we've no unwanted company, so I say we reef sail and save the strain on the masts."

Josiah gave him a skeptical look. "A day or so out from an island ye don't even know the name of, much less the location?"

"Must we go through this every time? No, I don't know the actual name of the island. No one does. As for its location, I'm reasonably certain I know approximately where it may be. Relatively speaking."

Briggs held up his coffee cup. "I'll be needin' a bit of rum if ye expect me to make sense of that this early."

"I'll pour the rum, you go tell the men to take in sail by one quarter," said Jack. "Oh, and while you're at it, do me the favour of rousting my ever-so-mild bride from her slumber and bring her on deck? I'd hate for her to miss such a delightful sunrise."

Briggs gave him an incredulous look. "What the hell did I do to warrant such?"

"Now, now, Josiah, you know I love you like a brother."

With a resigned sigh, Briggs trudged down the stairs to the weather deck. "Aye, now I know how Abel felt..." he grumbled.

Briggs went down to what was temporarily formerly his quarters. He knocked gently. No answer. He knocked harder. Then he pounded on the door. Honour finally heard it.

"Go away!" she mumbled, snuggling deeper into her blankets.

Briggs said through the door, "Cap'n requests your presence on the deck as of now."

She rolled over onto her back, throwing her covers off her face and looking up at the ceiling.

"Would you kindly tell the Devil of the Seven Seas that I am not home?"

Briggs chuckled, "He knows better, Honour."

"Then tell him I am disinclined to acquiesce to his request. Being an Oxford boy, he will understand that."

She snuggled back down and threw the blankets back over her head.

Briggs knocked again. "You know eventually you will have to come out, Mrs. Wolfe. The sun is ever so beautiful this time of morning and..."

"What time IS it?"

"Oh....I would say about fifteen minutes to sun-up. You can just see it break over---"

"Break over his head? Oh, what a lovely thought! But you see, Dear Mr Briggs, that would prevent me from sleeping and we wouldn't want that, would we? So take my regrets, wrap it up in that red dress and tell my demanding husband that I will get up when I am good and ready. And not a minute before."

Josiah climbed the stairs back to the quarterdeck.

"Well...where is she? Taking her sweet time? Usually it is worth the wait."

"Her reply was in the negative, Jack. She's harder to move than a fouled anchor."

Jack sighed and stood up from the railing he had been sitting on.

"Josiah, you've known me for at least sixteen years now, and I still haven't been able to teach you how to handle a woman."

"If ye didn't find every woman what Hell's spat back out, I'd pay more attention."

"Now, you just have to know how to tame the pussycat! With the right application of petting and a little catnip--or wine--a woman can be putty in your hands."

Jack descended the seven steps from the quarterdeck to the weather deck. "Well, at least she's awake. That's a start. The ship is yours."

He walked over to the barrel by the mainmast. "I think this will do."

He hefted a boarding pike in his hands.

"Good Lord, Jack! Skewering her won't solve anything!"

"Don't be redundant, Josiah. I just need this for a little...leverage. Now....watch and learn."

[Honour Bright]

Arriving at Honour's cabin, Jack placed the steaming bowl of brew at the base of the door so it's odour would seep into her quarters. He waited a couple minutes, then rapped on the door with the boarding pike.
"Honour! Wake up, darling! We've been boarded by mad Turks, and I know how you love to kill things early in the morning."
He sidestepped to the hinge side of the door, and rested the pike where the door met the frame, just above the doorknob.
She moaned, "Won't any of you let me SLEEP??"
The smell from the coffee wafted from under the door.

*Sniff* *Sniff*
'What was it he said about angry turkeys? Who cares? And where are you going to put turkeys on a ship deck anyhow?'
She pulled the blankets ever closer to her. Still...the smell of coffee first thing in the morning...
'I suppose he's back on the quarterdeck enjoying his rum-laced java and exchanging jokes with Briggs about how he pulled one over me.'
She sighed and tightened a dressing gown around her. She listened at the door to make sure there wasn't a sound or heavy breathing.

A broad, victorious grin spread over Jack's face as he heard turn the knob.
'That's it, love, open the door just a bit for Ol' Jack,' he thought. He adjusted his grip on the pike, ready to thrust it into the opening and catch the door chain. As the knob turned, the door opened, and Jack struck. He thrust forward to break the chain before she knew what was happening... except for the simple fact Honour had already unchained the door. The coffee lure had worked too well.

The momentum of Jack's thrust carried him stumbling through the door, sending Honour sprawling backward against the bed. The pike wedged itself in the foreward bulkhead of the cabin, and Jack's head rebounded off the wall with a resounding thud, landing him in a precarious position on top of Honour. He shook off the impact and looked up to see his wife staring at him from underneath him.
"Um....I seem to remember you preferred to be on top, darling."

Honour's mouth worked soundlessly as she tried to process what had just happened. She turned her head to look at the weapon with its business end jammed into the wall planks.
"Hey, hey, never mind that little thing," Jack said quickly.
"Little? LITTLE? What the hell did you bring a harpoon after me for?"
"Honour, I can explain, I promise. First, that's not a harpoon, it's a boarding pike..."
His voice trailed off under her withering glare.
"... a distinction you clearly don't care about. Anyway, I was carrying it back to the armoury and decided to bring you some coffee. When you wouldn't come to the door, I decided to leave. But when I heard you opening the door, I ran back to greet you. That's when I tripped and fell through the door, and the rest is lodged in the woodwork."

"You're lying."
"How can you- I mean, what makes you say that?"
"Your lips a moving. Now GET OFF ME!"

"So soon? I thought we were getting along quite well."
Honour put her hands against his chest and shoved as hard as she could, rolling Jack off the bed.
"Get out," she said quietly. But clearly she was getting angrier by the moment.
"Quite right," replied Jack, trying to play the whole incident off like a housecat that had made a spectacular, public blunder, then sashays off with an air of 'I meant to do that.'

"I'll send someone round later to remove the pike from your wall, and -- All right, I'm going!" he yelped as she gave him another shove that propelled him out of the door. He stopped short to try to say something else, only to have the door slam before he could turn around.
"Well, that was a disaster,' he muttered as he leaned against Honour's closed door. Dejectedly, he started walking back to the quarterdeck.
At least he tried to. His first step was stopped short, and he stumbled back against the door. The tail end of his shirt was caught in the door. He tugged, but apparently Honour had wedged something against the door as a barricade. There was no room to pull the fabric through. Tentatively, he knocked on the door.
"Um, Honour?"
"Go away, Jack. I meant it!"
"I'd love to, dear, but it seems I'm caught by your door. My shirttail is caught and won't pull free. Would you be a love and open the door so I can get loose?"
There was a long pause. "Give me a moment," she answered finally.
"Thank you, Honour! I appreciate your trusting this isn't another admitted stupid ploy to---"
RIIIIIP!

Jack leaned forward, and the shirt, or what was left of it, pulled free from the door jamb with ease. Honour had solved the problem by slicing off the trapped fabric.

"Um, that works too, I suppose. Though it was silk, and rather expensive."
"You're welcome, Jack!" she called back through the closed door.
Jack waited for a moment to see if she would say anything else, but only heard a muffled giggle.

'One more thing Josiah will never let me live down,' muttered Jack. But as he passed the companionway, he heard a chuckle.
"She does this to you every time, Captain. Have ye learned naught about women?"

"Josiah?"
"Yeah, Jack?"
Jack gave Briggs a gesture for which there were no words exchanged.
None were needed.

Briggs said softly, "Honour one. Jack zero."

[Honour Bright]

Honour looked out the porthole to the view of the setting sun. She had not seen any trace of Jack since she did a slice and dice on that lovely silk shirt of his.
She ran her fingers through her hair, the salt spray from earlier in the day caked and dried a layer of salt on her tresses. Looking through Briggs' chest of drawers, she found a comb.
'Ow! Ow! Ow!"
Her hair was tangled and still crusted.
She sighed. 'I don't know how anyone can stand this. It wasn't this bad when I...' Her thoughts drifted off. '....when I sailed here before.'

She looked in the pitcher and there seemed to be some fresh water. Pouring it into the basin, she took a bit of the lavender soap from Jack's cabin. 'At least that was mine,' she thought.
Washing her hair, she finally managed to get the grime out of it. She used the rest of the water to bathe with.
'I certainly don't feel like putting these clothes back on.'
She reached in the pile and brought out a dressing gown she had left behind.
'This is at least comfortable and I won't need to wear stays with it.'
She dabbed a bit of jasmine oil behind her ears and on her cleavage.
'May as well smell a bit more like myself,' as she combed her wet hair.

She perused through a few books that Briggs had on his shelf.
'1001 ways to tie a knot.....' She put the book back. Similar books on navigation filled the meager shelf.
'I seem to remember Jack had infinitely better reading material.'
She opened the door to the cabin.
She looked right. She looked left.
The coast looked clear.

Cautiously Honour tiptoed down the hall way and quietly opened Jack's door, backing her way in so she could make sure the hallway was still unoccupied.
"Looking for someone?"
Honour jumped a mile and put her hand over her heart.

There sat Jack, his small table spread out with what was his dinner. Roasted lamb, boiled potatoes, fresh bread, fried apples and assorted fruit.
"Lord, you almost gave me a heart attack, Jack!"

"Did the cook not bring you anything to eat?"
"I wasn't...hungry," her voice trailed off.
She looked longingly at the fried apples...where on earth did he find them?
He carved another slice of lamb and put it on his plate.
'I'll just bet there is mint jelly to go with that lamb.....'
She tried not to look at the food.
"I thought I might have left my hairbrush in here......'" Mmmm....boiled potatoes. And is that butter with chives over there? She tried to focus on the porthole to avoid looking at the food.
"I see you still have the Connemara marble dishes."
"Oh, nothing but the best! I do believe we took that off an Irish ship a year or two before I met you. It holds up so nicely."

He took a biscuit and buttered it lavishly.
"So...you are here because of a hairbrush?"
"Well...that and I was looking to see if you may have a book I could read..."
She finished lamely.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I do believe you got the most interesting one I own. Although there is a book over there...illustrations are marvelous."
She stood up and said frostily, "Never mind. I see you are busy dining and I won't take up any more of your valuable time."

Jack pushed a plate towards her.
"Oh, go on. Help yourself."
She sighed and finally looked at the marble plates and Spanish cutlery.
"Oh, alright. Please pass me some fruit. But nothing more...oh! And maybe some of that lamb....and a slice of bread...and for goodness sake, don't be stingy with that rum!"

"I have something better." He reached under his table and brought out a bottle of merlot."
She looked at all the food, the wine, the candles that were lit....
"Jack Wolfe, this is one of your little seduction dinners."
"Is not! I dine like this all the time."
"Oh, you do not! The merlot was a dead giveaway!"

She turned to go. As she reached the doorknob to turn it, she heard him say, "Wait. I---apologize. For what, I don't know. But if I upset you in any shape or form, then I am sorry. I was out of line saying whatever I said. I don't quite know what it was...but I know you are hungry and frankly, I would like the company."

She tried not to smile at his obvious discomfiture at apologizing.
"Well...." She sat down and in a calmer voice she said, "I do believe I shall have a piece of the lamb. But please go easy on the mint sauce. And maybe some bread. But that is all. Oh! And a bit of that merlot as long as you don't expect anything..thank you," she said as Jack handed her a plate.
She glanced at him. He still looked really good even after their last argument eighteen months ago when he sailed to Martinique. Hell, he still looked good when he was drunk in the Bilge Pump Pub.'
She shook her head out of her reverie.
'Don't fall for the dinner-candlelight-merlot ploy. Remember how it always ends...'

A small voice inside her said, 'You know you want to...'
She answered aloud, "Certainly not!"
Jack looked up.
"Did you say something?"
"Umm...no."

He could almost hear the deep voice of his father,.
'Aye, Jackie boy! What be in yer head, lad? Woo her again? Have ye naught enough woe and heartache over this lass? She bewitched ye, took all yer money and worst of all, she made ye fall in love with her. I raised ye better than that...'
He banished the memory. Some ghosts are better left in the past, not carried around like a rude monkey.'
He swallowed his ale, and it suddenly tasted bitter. Jack scowled and put it down to the mischief of his long-passed father. He put his cup down and gazed out the window.

He felt a soft hand upon his shoulder, and when he turned around, he found Honour's face tantalizingly close to his.
She took a step back quickly.
"I--I want to thank you, Jack."
"For what?"
"For not killing me."
"For eighteen months I wanted to. Now...I'm not so sure if that is a good idea anymore."

[The Doctor]

Jack looked at her and said softly, "I don't think I have ever seen you look so lovely, Honour. So...vulnerable. The dressing gown and the wet hair..."

"Well, you have me at a disadvantage, Oxford boy. So don't get any ideas."

She reached over and helped herself to an apple, the dressing gown affording him a view of what he once laid claim to.

He swallowed hard.

She polished the apple on her gown and said wistfully, "Was it really only eighteen months ago, Jack? It seems like another lifetime ago that you crossed my wake that night...."

She took a bite of the apple and offered it to him. Suddenly he felt off his footing in his own game. Or was it a game?

He looked at her as Adam must have looked at Eve. Temptation in her hand and in her eyes.

Jack stepped forward and took the apple from her hand. He regarded it thoughtfully, looking at the bite she had taken from it.

In a husky voice, he whispered, "Show me how it tasted," throwing the apple over his shoulder. He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply.

She felt herself giving in to those old feelings and emotions. She kissed him back and felt her knees go weak. As always when he kissed her.

She broke away and her breath came in short, ragged gasps.

"Damn you, Jack Wolfe! Just..damn you!"

She felt the sash on her dressing gown untied and Jack's hand around her waist, drawing her close to him. His other hand was caressing her.

Jack's head was spinning. Not from rum or ale or other spirits, but from the pent up passions he still held for Honour. It was all so overpowering; the scent of jasmine, the taste of her kiss, the softness of her curves which he could scarcely wait to explore once again. This wasn't mere conquest. This was something more. Much more.

"I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't, Honour," he replied between their increasingly passionate kisses.

Just then, the heavy latch of the cabin door announced the arrival of some unwanted visitor with a loud clack. The door swung open and in walked Josiah Briggs, still looking at whatever was on the paper in his hand.

"Jack, I was lookin' over these calculations ye made, and I---"

He stopped cold when he saw Jack and Honour in their lover's embrace.

"--- I really wish I was drunk right now," he finished.

Honour quickly clutched her dressing gown around her, the moment between her and her estranged husband shattered.

"Don't you ever knock?!" fumed Jack.

"Nay, but I sure wish I had now," said Briggs, still in shock.

"I'll leave now," said Honour as she turned for the door.

"No, please stay," said Jack. "Briggs, go!"

"No, Josiah, stay," replied Honour. "I''m going. Good night, Jack."

Honour brushed past Briggs and hurried down the companionway, back to her quarters.

"I was startin' to feel like the ship's dog for a minute," the quartermaster quipped, trying to diffuse the situation between himself and his friend.

"Right now, consider yourself in the doghouse until further notice."

"I'm sorry for bargin' in that way, Jack. I had no way of knowin' the two of ye would be..."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Dining together?"

"Call it what ye will. And I didn't see nothin', I swear!"

"Liar. Your face is still red as a beet."

Briggs scowled uncomfortably and pulled at his collar . "Well, 'tis a might warm in here."

"Considerably more so before you arrived.

Jack plopped down in a chair and poured himself some rum punch. "Fine then, O Destroyer of Moods, what's on your mind?"

Briggs walked to the table and handed over the page he'd been reading. "It's these numbers. I double checked against what ye'd wrote this mornin'. See here, and here?"

Jack looked at the entries, then quickly opened the journal. He compared them, and sagged back in his seat. "I transposed the heading numbers? Bloody hell. I never make mistakes like that!"

"I'm guessin' ye had somethin' on your mind," said Briggs, as he nodded toward Honour's cabin.

"Damned sloppy of me. Well, the damage is done. How far off are we?"

Briggs smiled broadly. "Only half a day, if we clap on full sail again."

"Half a day? That's all? Master Briggs, give the order!"

"I took the liberty of doin' it already. Somethin' told me ye'd want it done."

"Consider yourself out of the doghouse, Josiah. And thank you."

Briggs walked to the table and handed over the page he'd been reading. "It's these numbers. I double checked against what ye'd wrote this mornin'. See here, and here?"

Jack looked at the entries, then quickly opened the journal. He compared them, and sagged back in his seat. "I transposed the heading numbers? Bloody hell. I never make mistakes like that!"

"I'm guessin' ye had somethin' on your mind," said Briggs, as he nodded toward Honour's cabin.

"Damned sloppy of me. Well, the damage is done. How far off are we?"

Briggs smiled broadly. "Only half a day, if we clap on full sail again."

"Half a day? That's all? Master Briggs, give the order!"

"I took the liberty of doin' it already. Somethin' told me ye'd want it done."

"Consider yourself out of the doghouse, Josiah. And thank you."

"Just doin' me job," said Briggs as he walked to the door. "And next time, do me a favour and hang a stocking on the door handle? I'm goin' to need me a drink or two after that."

"I'll take it under advisement, if there's another time. You know where the rum is."

"Aye. G'night, Jack."

"Good night, Josiah."

Jack watched as the door closed behind Briggs, and he gave a heavy sigh. He looked down at the floor and found the apple he and Honour had shared in their own intimate way. He picked it up and regarded it.

"So close. So very, very, close..."

[Honour Bright]

Honour felt the heat of shame rising in her cheeks. She pounded the wall with her fist.

"Damn him! Damn him!" But she couldn't tell who she was damning more--Jack or Briggs?

Jack for making her feel things she thought were long gone. Or Briggs for interrupting what would maybe have gotten Jack out of her system once and for all. Because after all that time apart, could it still be that wonderful?

But for some reason she couldn't get the thought of the way he kissed her out of her mind...and unfortunately the way she responded to him.
As always.

She moved the dresser in front of the door and then propped a chair under the ch

She looked out the port window at the sea. Another night and day and this will all be over, she thought. Then I can get on with my life. I can arrange it so I never have to run into Jack Wolfe again. Returning to the existence of Rhiannon Conaway would be the perfect cover-up. Honour Bright Wolfe would cease to exist.

Dragging the dresser, she placed it against the door and then propped a chair under the chest knobs.

Dusting off her hands, she thought with satisfaction, 'That will keep you out, Jack Wolfe, in case you get any notions.'

She turned down the coverlet and let her dressing gown drop to the floor. Sliding into bed, she felt how cool the sheets were against her skin. But that brought her no comfort.

No, not at all.

She didn't want to be alone.

She wanted to be snuggled up next to Jack, the aftermath of the tempest that was their love-making.

But her pride wouldn't let her leave her cabin. She frustratingly blew out the candle and was asleep before she knew it.

Jack lay in the dark, staring up at the canopy of the bed. The scant illumination was provided by soft, cloud-filtered moonlight coming in through some open windows on the back wall of the cabin. The same pale moonlight that always allowed him to lay awake and watch Honour sleep so peacefully.

He sighed heavily in frustration and tried to close his eyes. Usually, the rolling of the sea and the familiar creaks and murmurs of the ship would quiet his mind and lull him to sleep. But not so this time. He could not get Honour off his mind. Closing his eyes only made it worse. With his eyes closed, he could see her face. Her stormy blue eyes, her passionate, inviting lips, every intoxicating curve of her body.

Jack fidgeted with the bed sheet, trying to find whatever comfortable position that would help him finally fall asleep. But he found himself chuckling. All this time, the only thing he could think about was getting that key back and discovering the secret of the Ancients' treasure. Now, with the key just down the hall from him and the enigmatic island less that two days away, his only thoughts were of Honour.

'I'll deal with this tomorrow, whenever tomorrow is,' he thought to himself. It was then he realised that he hadn't even been paying attention to the watch bells that were struck every half hour. He lay there in the dark, waiting for the next set, and his eyes began to grow heavy as he waited...

[The Doctor]

Finally, the sound of the bells came. One, two, three, four.

'Still the middle of the night,' he thought. But as his eyes began to open, he could see that the cabin was illuminated with sunlight. He sat bolt upright in bed.

"Bollocks! It's the middle of the morning!" he exclaimed. Hastily he pulled on his trousers, a fresh shirt, and boots and headed up on deck. It wasn't like him to sleep away the morning while at sea. Soon he was on the quarterdeck, still squinting in the bright morning sun.

"Mornin', Jack! I was beginnin' to wonder if ye'd forgotten about us," joked Briggs.

The young seaman at the wheel, Ned Tomlinson, stifled a chuckle.

"I must have stayed up too late reading," lied Jack. "Tomlinson, how fare we today?" he asked quickly.

"On course, Captain," the young man replied. "Master Briggs reckons we'll make landfall by evening next. I'm guessing you'll want to lay by until the next morning before we make our approach?"

"You guess right, Ned," smiled Jack. "With no charts to guide us, I'll not risk the ship by getting her too close."

Jack turned to speak with Briggs, but just then the lookout's voice rang out.

"A sail, a sail! To port side, a sail!" he cried.

Jack took the spyglass from beside the wheel and examined the unknown ship. She was an East Indiaman, riding fairly low in the water. Her sails were being trimmed as she attempted to attempted to catch more wind. She had spotted the pirate ship and was starting to run.

He lowered the glass and looked down to the weather deck, and the expectant faces of the crew looking back at him.

Jack paused for a moment and turned to Briggs. The quartermaster knew that gleam in his friend's eyes. He took a deep breath and, in spite of his feelings to the contrary, nodded in agreement.

Stepping to the railing, Jack addressed his crew. "We have the advantage of the wind, and speed as well! That merchantman is riding low, which means there's cargo aboard. But she's already turned her heels to us. Shall we pass on, or make her a prize today? What say you all?"

The crew replied with a resounding "Aye!!"

Nodding his approval, Jack began barking orders.

"Stations, then! Gunners, load with chain and grapeshot only, in case we need to make a point! The rest of you, lay on canvas! I want that distance between us closed and quickly!"

He turned to Josiah and gave a flinty smile. "The island has waited this long. Another few hours won't make a difference."

"Jack, are ye sure ye want to do this? What if they make a fight of it? Ye've got Honour to think of."

"Josiah, they won't fight! This will all be over in an hour or two. There's nothing to worry about."

"For your sake, and hers, I hope ye be right, Jack."

Honour heard his boots pounding on the deck as he came down the hall. She held her breath as she waited and exhaled as she heard them pass by.

A little voice inside her said, 'Disappointed, Honour? You know you wanted him to break the door down and....'

"Nonsense!" She said to herself.

She listened to the sounds of commotion and Jack giving orders to load the guns.

Quickly she jumped up and threw her chemise over her head, hastily running to the port window.

A ship was in the distance but it appeared to be getting closer.

'Oh no...NO! Does he really intend.....?'

She felt herself get faint and bent over to get the blood back to her head. She found it hard to catch her breath.

Memories of that fateful day came flooding back to her. Memories of a Spanish ship with the Norman Cross....memories of cannonballs in the great cabin and the sounds of men begging for her help. The smell of gunpowder...and the sight of Jack being spun to the deck.

She held her hands out in front of her and whispered, 'The blood...oh, the blood....' She couldn't control the trembling of her hands.

'I can't....I WON'T!' I can't do this. Not again....not ever. This time it stops. This time it ends.'

She fought down the rising wave of nausea that was beginning to overcome her. No, I won't do it! I'm not a coward. But enough is enough!'

She ran down to Jack's cabin, frantically searching for the only thing she could think of to stop him.

'Where did he keep it? Did he move it? It has to be here somewhere....'

She rummaged around in the chest of drawers.

Nothing.

She checked the armoire.

Not there.

She reached under the mattress. Her hand curved around something. Could that be it?

She pulled it out and there it was.

The flintlock.

'I have to stop him before he kills me or himself!'

She opened the door and walked with a determined stride to the deck. But her bravado was fading from her.

Walking up behind Jack, she pointed the flintlock. He turned around.

The weapon began to shake in her hand and she said in a trembling voice, "Don't make me shoot you, Jack. It stops. And it stops now."

[The Doctor]

Jack turned around from helping one of the men pull a cannon into the gun port.

"What the HELL are you doing?" he shouted.

Her hand was shaking as she wrapped both hands around the grip.

"I--I'll shoot. I swear I will. I will shoot you if you don't stop this right now. I won't have it, Jack. I won't." Her voice was almost on the edge of hysteria.

"Honour....Honour, sweetheart. Hand me the gun. Nice and slow...."

"NO!" Tears were streaming down her face. "We won't do this again. Not now. Not EVER! Do you HEAR me?"

Jack advanced slowly and cautiously towards her, his hand outstretched.

"Please, darling....hand it over. Hand it over nice and slow...."

She closed her eyes, the gun wavering. He knew that look. He saw it once before in Castara. Only she wasn't holding a pistol. She was holding a sword and the victim was a palmetto.

Jack knew he had to make a move.

He leaped towards her and gripped her arms with his hands.

The gun pointed up in the split second before a bullet ricocheted off the mainsail, nicking the mast.

They both looked up, startled. He held her tight and whispered, "Just calm down...calm down...take a deep breath..."

Tears were streaming down her face but he didn't know if he was reaching her. She was in a place and time he couldn't seem to reach.

Gently, he slipped the pistol out of her hand and tossed it to the deck. Honour didn't react except to bury her face in his chest and sob.

"It's all right, love. Just settle down. Let me help you go somewhere safe..."

"No!" she cried. "There's nowhere safe! Not on this ship, not anywhere!" She feebly pounded on his chest with her fist as sobs wracked her body.

"That's enough," he replied sternly. "Come on, I've got to get you below."

Honour put up only token resistance as he led her off the deck and into the companionway.

"There, that's it. We're almost there," he said in the most comforting tones he could muster. He steered her through the doorway of her room.

"See? Here's your cabin. I promise, you'll be safe inside here. I'll come get you as soon--"

"NO!!" she shouted, and she shoved him away with all the strength she could find. "You said that before, and everything went to hell! You can't do this to me again, Jack! I can't watch you die!"

She collapsed onto the bed, her tears coming harder than ever.

"Honour, I can't take the time for this right now. I promise, it will all be over very quickly, no shots fired, no bloodshed. I swear it."

"Stop the chase, and I'll believe you!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't. I'll lose all respect of the men if I tell them to break off now, just because you want it."

"To hell with them, and to hell with you!" she spat.

"I don't doubt that for a moment, love. But for now I have to go back topside and take care of business. Please, stay here where you'll be safe. Nothing will go wrong, I swear it!"

No sooner were the words out of his mouth, that the ship suddenly lurched then listed hard to its port side. Jack was knocked from his feet and went sprawling to the deck beside Honour's bed.

"What in blazes...?!" He pulled himself back up and made his way to the door. The ship was starting to right herself, but he could hear the frantic shouts of the men on deck.

"You said nothing would happen!" Honour said accusingly.

"Well, the ship has other ideas!" he snapped.

With that, he slammed the door and locked it.