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Port Royal, Jamaica


sirhenrymorgan

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With shift at end, Kelley left the fortitude that gave his daily bread. Shoulders were slouched as if in reaction to some ethereal chill wind strangling his soul. Again and again the cries resounded his inner ear; coat was gathered tightly about broad shoulders of sturdy wrought.

Norm was the order of the hour, and without given thought he returned to usual tavern and took usual table near hearth. Round was ordered and serving girl viewed him oddly as his manner was so out of sorts. An hour passed, carefully paced with refill and another; the main entrance yawning wide to present awaited table mate.

Burke strutted the distance as Noble amongst his People. Good natured smile faded with quick observation to Kelley's mood.

It is time to pause, even so early, for this account is not intended to be about my life...but is, as I have said, about my life's secrets. Secrecy is intrinsic to my work. ~ Christopher Priest

“Five and Twenty Ponies, Trotting thru’ the Dark.

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a Lady, Letters for a Spy.Watch the wall my darling; While the Gentlemen go by.”~Rudyard Kipling

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"I need to know exactly what happened!" March barked at doctor as the Archangel drifted slowly on nearly calm seas. Safe distance had been placed between Port Royal and brigantine.

Reiley rose to his feet and began to pace. Hands combed back long brown hair from wearied features.

"What do ye want me to say? Damn it! He shot and killed a man!"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Devon leaned close, features rapt to what was relayed in hushed tone. Serving maid had come and gone several times, glancing to near forgotten half-full, half-empty tankard duo. Slyed survey was made of surround as cut-purse digested what was and what was not.

"Tis a right bloody shame, boyo...An' what am I to be tellin' Her. A given to pass the words, bu' wha' o' the rest?"

Kelley kept tongue still, his features devoid of usual mirth. Abandoned tankard was recaptured by companion and downed absently.

"An' She's gonna' ask...lay any wager to it, true as true is..."

Burke leaned back, crossing arms over chest and fell into deep contemplation.

It is time to pause, even so early, for this account is not intended to be about my life...but is, as I have said, about my life's secrets. Secrecy is intrinsic to my work. ~ Christopher Priest

“Five and Twenty Ponies, Trotting thru’ the Dark.

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a Lady, Letters for a Spy.Watch the wall my darling; While the Gentlemen go by.”~Rudyard Kipling

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Reiley's look was pure amazement. He could not believe March had just asked him.

"Shall I repeat myself?" March continued. "Did I not make myself plain?"

Reiley frowned and paced away, hand coming down as if to dismiss ridiculous question. "Because I am a doctor!" he insisted.

"I know that," March growled. "But did ye get off yer damn horse long enough to make sure the man was really dead?"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Mistress Lilly waited nervously in adjacent room as the two officers discussed the matter of her having audience with Captain Sterling. It had been nearly an hour. Lilly sat twisting her gloves in her hands as Lady St. Claire tried to calm her fears. “These things take time.” Whispered Tess. “Matters such as these may take…” It was then the door opened and the younger officer called her back into the room. With a slight nod, Mistress Lilly was called back into the hall.

She approached the table slowly, curtsied just so, and awaited their reply. “Mistress McKinney,” said that elder officer. “It is against my better judgment with the evidence placed before me at this tribunal that you should take audience Captain Sterling…” Lilly’s expression suddenly fell to one of disappointment and disbelief. “Yet….” He said looking sanctimoniously as he continued with his ruling. “I will allow a brief meeting with him and it shall be no more than 10 mins.. I will see to it that a guard will accompany you to his cell and keep an overseeing eye upon you until your time is up. That will be all Mistress McKinney.”

As the elder officer waved his hand, a guard quickly took Mistress Lilly’s elbow and escorted her out of the hall in the direction of the prison. Lady Tess quickly stood up from where she was sitting and was about the follow when the younger officer stopped her. “I am sorry my Lady, but it is a private audience she requested. You are welcome to wait here if you like.”

Tess, taken aback by the officer’s reply, quickly nodded her head in reply and took her seat again. Now she had to wait until Mistress Lilly came back. This was not the plan, but she would have to make it work to her benefit.

Out into the courtyard, back into the far side of the prison walls, they went. With every step, the hall soon grew darker and the whispers of the damn echoed from their cells, cursing or giving confessions to a loveless God who had forsaken their prayers.

Soon they came to a heavy oak door. “Wait here.” Said the Guard as he unlocked and pulled back the massive door only to repeat it again to another iron one behind it. “Here you!” Shouted the guard. “You’ve got company!”

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As the heavy iron door slowly opened, the room’s air quickly struck her. The heavy stench over came her as she hesitated to move forward. “A beg a lamp.” She asked the guard as she waited for him to hand it to her. “I will let you know when your time is up Mistress.” He muttered as he handed the lamp over to her.

Slowly she stepped forward into the small dark cell. Raising the lamp, the shadows soon cast shadows. There in the corner, comforting himself with knees drawn close was her Captain. There he sat in dirty matted straw, shoeless and clinging to himself for warmth.

“Captain Sterling?” She said at first in a soft warm tone. It was then she noticed that his wrists were shackled and his movement limited. “Johnny?” She again called for him, this time in the tone of a lover, soft and remorseful to see him in such a state.

Now she stood just in arms length of him. As he lifted his head to view her, he paused at first as if not to be sure who stood before him in the cell he now called home. “Johnny, it is I, Lilly. I’ve come to speak with you…and help you if I can.”

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Feeling as if it had been a hundred years, I drained my mug. I set it down and looked about the room. "My, my" I thought when someone caught my eye. A frozen chill ran down the back of me spine. "The Capt'n, from that ship." I stammered. "Ooohh, that hurts." My mind raced for answers. "Yes, it was Rakehell, and, oh no and the other gentleman, Ioan." I said under my breath. "I best to be keeping meself underwraps." I thought.

(Edited due to my mistake and foolishness.)

Edited by Amanjiria
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In defiance, he pulled out a chair and sat. "Oh, no. I think we have a bit more talking to do. At the moment, I have no ship and no money. I want a share of the money you got for the cargo you sold."

....I took a sip of my ale, set the tankard down, and met Ioan's dark gaze with my own ice blue. "No."

"Then I might have to drop a word in Morgan's ear about what type of business you're in."

My gaze went from ice to steel. "You do that, and your body will be found floating in Chocolate Hole before you can enjoy whatever reward you might receive."

"I'll risk it," he replied.

I studied Ioan over the rim of my mug. There was desperation in his dark Welsh eyes, and a pinched look about his mouth. It gave his still handsome face a hard look that had not been there before. I wondered what had happened to him since he'd left the Rakehell.

"Yes, you always were willing to risk everything. Too bad you never learned to risk it on something worth while. You're not a stupid man, Ioan. Stop acting like one."

"I'm not so stupid as to let you take my share of that money," He snapped. "I helped you take that French ship, and I want what's my due."

"Lower your voice, you damned fool," I hissed. "You want to get us arrested? This town is on pins and needles already, and I've had enough excitment for one day." I gave him a contemptuous look. "Bleeding hell, Ioan, you look as scurvy as a tanning-yard dog." I flipped him a sliver coin. "Go get yourself something to eat, but keep your mouth shut."

He took the coin and tossed it back at me. "I don't need handouts from you. I want my gold. Either you get it for me, or I go to Morgan." He stood suddenly, knocking over his chair. "Meet me here by noon tomorrow, with my share."

"I'll see you in hell first," I replied coldly.

...schooners, islands, and maroons

and buccaneers and buried gold...

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You can do everything right, strictly according to procedure, on the ocean, and it'll still kill you. But if you're a good navigator, a least you'll know where you were when you died.......From The Ship Killer by Justin Scott.

"Well, that's just maddeningly unhelpful."....Captain Jack Sparrow

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Found in the Ruins — Personal Blog

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He took the coin and tossed it back at me. "I don't need handouts from you. I want my gold. Either you get it for me, or I go to Morgan." He stood suddenly, knocking over his chair. "Meet me here by noon tomorrow, with my share."

"I'll see you in hell first," I replied coldly.

I looked away, and sank as deeply into the walls as I could. "I would not get involved with these two again." Now the the man, Ioan, knocked over his chair, they were between me and my way out.

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As the morning crept on, the rain has turned into a lingering drizzle. Lord Darnly traveled by coach to visit Lord Sterling that morning with news from Port Royal. He felt somewhat anxious to get the matter over and done with. Lord Darnly, who remembered there was a time that he enjoyed the company of Lord Sterling, now was forced to confront him against his better wishes. It was not so long ago the two of them were best of mates, yet pride, foolishness, the glint of gold, and a woman soon drew a wide craig between them.

The coach stopped in front of the manor house. Lord Darnly looked up at the well maintained building. With a sniff, Lord Darnly shrugged off his ‘bad’ thoughts and let the footman open his carriage door.

He was escorted to the main hall where he waited to take audience. “Foolish.” Lord Darnly muttered to himself as he held the letter in hand. Lord Darnly did not have to wait too long before the butler collected him and took him to Lord Sterling’s study. There, in front of a roaring fire, sat Lord Sterling. “I understand you have news from Port Royal. Good, then make it quick, Lord Darnly. I am a very busy man.” And with that Lord Sterling extended a seat next to him.

Lord Darnly’s fits now clenched the letter tighter. “Very well.” He said taking the seat offered. “But I must confess that the matter does not concern your son, but a distant family member.” “Who now?!” Muttered Lord Sterling in disgust. “The letter was written by Lady Tess St. Claire informing me of our cousin, Lord Lewis Hutchinson. He has taken up sport with the locals, I fear.” Lord Sterling pursed his lips in pause. “Sport, Darnly? Oh, do speak clear! What ever do you mean?” “I fear he has been making habit of hunting the locals for sport.” Lord Sterling sat there in shock. “Seems Lady Tess has informed me by this letter that he’s quite good at it too! She also states that she plans to make sure he escapes the magistrate’s wrath as soon as possible.” “How? When does she say he plans to return to England?” “She doesn’t exactly state when, but she does state how.” “Well, do go on!” Lord Sterling shouted.

“Upon the Archangel, Sir”

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Soft knock was issued on desired residence, door cracking in response then moving to near full open allowing access. With portal secured, Christophe eyed Burke's companion with cool regard momentarily before resuming post in former chair. Quickly removing hat out of respect, Nathan hovered just behind Devon's placement, glance slied to the Frenchman and iron thunder cradled upon lap. Introductions were made briefly and seating was indicated.

She looked upon him kindly, though there was no mistaking the dread that swam the depths of olive pools and he found it hard to focus on the flooring instead of the graces that Fates had bestowed upon her. Nathan was hesitant to speak that which he knew at first, but as relayed what he knew, the words came easier and there was without doubt, a disturbance to the innermost conscious of his being. Now and again his words would falter as if remembrance was to unsettling to give forth.

Aurore listened, the world fading from immediate surround to leave behind just she and orator. Mental gears moved forward, processing what was said and she worked hard to quell the fears which desired reign; he worked just as hard to keep the worst details at bay without downplaying overmuch the truths.

As witness was given, the one thing that chased itself as dog after tail within Devon's mind were that of Kelley's statement just before leaving the tavern. Irish cousin had looked intently upon him...

"Tis trut'...His scream was unsettlin' as the tales told on'na Aul Sod o' the Banshee's. An if he 'ad called me name, I would 'ave sworn meself dead in'na turn o' a day...."

It is time to pause, even so early, for this account is not intended to be about my life...but is, as I have said, about my life's secrets. Secrecy is intrinsic to my work. ~ Christopher Priest

“Five and Twenty Ponies, Trotting thru’ the Dark.

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a Lady, Letters for a Spy.Watch the wall my darling; While the Gentlemen go by.”~Rudyard Kipling

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Lord Sterling sat there in shock. “Seems Lady Tess has informed me by this letter that he’s quite good at it too! She also states that she plans to make sure he escapes the magistrate’s wrath as soon as possible.” “How? When does she say he plans to return to England?” “She doesn’t exactly state when, but she does state how.” “Well, do go on!” Lord Sterling shouted.

“Upon the Archangel, Sir”

Lord William stood, slowly, movement calculated to not betray any emotion. Gathering up papers that had formerly graced his lap as he had sat reading before being disturbed, he announced that he must put an end to Lord Darnely's all too gracious visit.

"I have business to attend to Robert," he remarked with a sigh of boredom. "And a rather pressing...engagement. One you surely could appreciate. That new courtesan... what is her name?"

As if preplanned, personal servant entered on cue.

"Milord, the carriage is about ready, and I have laid out your clothing. The green suit, did you not request?" Michaels relayed.

Sterling bowed to his guest.

"Later then Robert. Perhaps at the theater tonight?"

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Lucien James Manchester waved casually to shoo droning insect away from his person. Broadsheet was readjusted to benefit from early morning light lazily streaming in from open patio doors. He yawned absent-mindedly, and considered the boiled egg in silver service afore him. Breeze stirred in lufting manner, bringing with it the pungent sweet of flora from manicured garden of which he took almost sinful pride.

The soft sound of chamber door and equally hushed tread of footfall paused his current train of thought, but as any man of stature would, he made no effort to give immediate acknowledgement. Vision was cast over half empty china cup and he contemplated his desire for more tea before making verbal invitation to other waiting just to the left and behind.

"Yes, Williams?"

"A messege for you, Sir"

Broadsheet dropped angle slightly to the announcement, "Very well. Place it there, if you would."

Petit tray of elegant wrought was set upon indicated spot and Steward waited dismissal. Lucien gave partial attention to paperment's existence than gazed towards patio portal and native bird that had just taken perch upon rail curvature.

"That will be all for now, Williams. Thank you."

Steward gave small bow, regardless of being out of Master's sight and retraced the path just trodden. Deep appreciative draw of breath was taken to garden's perfume and for more than a thousandth time, lordling in waiting considered his high fortune. Granted, being the Second Son could have its' disadvantages; Elder brother would gain Family lands and title; reputation and Seat within hallowed House of Lords...

But one could do worse.

As a Barrister with a very elite clientele, Lucien had done quite well for himself in Lower Latitudes. His reputation was sealed, desired luxuries afforded and above all, he had freedoms that elder brother Edward did not. Tinge of smile played handsome features as he also considered his lack of envy regarding Brother and England's finicky climate. Nothing there could entice Second Son from here...Not all the titles in Britannia.

Paperment was finally given its' due, read once then, once again in time. Pursing his lips in contemplation, tiny bell was grasped and rung.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Please see to ordering my carriage readied as soon as possible. And I think the Azure blue will suite quite well for the outing intended."

"As you wish, Sir"

Chamber door brushed to closure and Master rose from seating, hands clasped behind small of back. Tropics breeze gained strength, caressing ash hued tress as bird was studied nonchalantly.

"Interesting..." he commented to no one in particular. "Interesting, indeed."

It is time to pause, even so early, for this account is not intended to be about my life...but is, as I have said, about my life's secrets. Secrecy is intrinsic to my work. ~ Christopher Priest

“Five and Twenty Ponies, Trotting thru’ the Dark.

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a Lady, Letters for a Spy.Watch the wall my darling; While the Gentlemen go by.”~Rudyard Kipling

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“Johnny, it is I, Lilly. I’ve come to speak with you…and help you if I can.”

He glanced upward, mind still numb from earlier visitation that had resulted in so much and yet so little. As she raised lamp, he looked away, good eye closing once again. Now any light seemed painful at best.

"Take it away," he ordered. He wiped at face with back of sleeve, though weeping had worn itself out long time past. "Forgive me Mistress, if I do not rise to greet thee," he apologized. He swallowed, mouth had become so very dry. "I am not myself."

As sight gained focus in what, to him, was lamp's far too brilliant cast, he suddenly looked over.

"Lilly? Is that you?" he whispered. Then he made effort to greet her, as she hurried to him.

"Mistress McKinney, IF YOU PLEASE!" guard barked abruptly before entering, with all haste, into the cell. His hand clamped down upon the actress's wrist and hauled her, none too civilly to her feet. "Keep your distance," he warned. "You may not touch the prisoner!"


"I being shot through the left cheek, the bullet striking away great part of my upper jaw, and several teeth which dropt down the deck where I fell... I was forced to write what I would say to prevent the loss of blood, and because of the pain I suffered by speaking."~ Woodes Rogers

Crewe of the Archangel

http://jcsterlingcptarchang.wix.com/creweofthearchangel#

http://creweofthearchangel.wordpress.com/

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Within the tomb-like darkness of his room, where the weak flame of only one candle cast a small circle of light on the bedside table, Ezekial Moses Spindlethorpe lay abed. A cool, damp cloth lay over his eyes. On the table stood a beaker that used to contain a sovereign tonic for spasms of the nerves. It was now empty, it's calming affect finally taking hold.

Mr. Spindlethorpe was sure that his day - nay - his very life, could get no worse. As that thought settled into his flustered brain, there was a soft knock on his door, and Tomas, his servant entered. A renued feeling of dread settled itself within Mr. Spindlethorpe's soul.

"Uh, sir, if you please. Lady Violet Cunningham is below demanding her usual room. As you know sir, Mr. Biggerstaffe is in that room, just come in from Boston. What shall I tell the Lady?"

Before Mr. Spindlethorp could digest this new bit of unwelcome news, an explosion rattled the window and caused the beaker to fall from the table.

"Oh God!" A throbbing pain developed behind Mr. Spindlethorpe's eyes as he rose dejectedly from his repose. "I suppose I must go down before her anger destroys the entire town. No doubt she has ordered one of her husband's ships to fire salvos at us, do we not give her the correct room."

As Tomas left, his employer called desperatly, "Before I face that virago, make sure there is a quantity of Irish whiskey placed before her!"

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"Mistress McKinney, IF YOU PLEASE!" guard barked abruptly before entering, with all haste, into the cell. His hand clamped down upon the actress's wrist and hauled her, none too civilly to her feet. "Keep your distance," he warned. "You may not touch the prisoner!"

With a stern look Mistress Lilly glared at the guard. “By who’s orders?! I have ever right to do so. He is the father of my child and by God; I shall do as I please!”

“By orders of local magistrate and Master Pinon’s. You will be under arrest if you do not follow these orders.”

With a mournful look, Lilly glanced down at the figure of a man she once knew. He had succumbed to the wickedness of his new surroundings. Perhaps it was old ghosts that now haunted his memory. Mistress Lilly turned and looked at the guard. “Very well, then. No touching.”

As she knelt down by his side, she began to weep softly. The image of him in shackles pained her so. He was not an animal but the very creature she loved. “My Sweet.” She whispered softly. “I will do what ever I can to get you out of this hell. I shall send word to your father, or perhaps Lord Darnly will loan me the money out of pity. Surely, there must be som…” She looked closer at her beloved Captain. His face drenched with tears and sweat. “Dear John, do not give up hope. Do not do it for me, but do it for your baby boy.”

Baby boy…the words uttered softly, gave comfort, and caused him to draw a deep breath. “Yes, my baby boy.”

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"Corporal Smyth, I do not truly care as to what you have been told. I am informing you as to how it is to be." Lucien eyed military man with hint of disapproval. "It has come to mine attention that none are to be in the presence of Captain John Sterling without authorized consent."

He moved forward two paces, dim light of office glinting of gold elaboration crowning walking stick. Features remained void of the irritation that was quickly climbing inwardly. "I have been commissioned as Solicitor of the man in question. As to what bunglings occur in this base surround, they are of no concern to me...Unless they involve my Client. Mister Pinon is to be arriving shortly and perhaps I should inform him of the negligence that appears to run rampant beneath the Crown's very nose"

The Addressee paled slightly, as Barrister continued, " Perhaps I should relay what is allowed to go on within these walls to the Governor. I am sure he would be most interested...But...."

One finger tapped cane head impatiently, "I can be a reasonable man and if you will kindly escort me to the gentleman in my charge, I might forgive named trespass."

Corporal shifted with discomfort, then nodded accord. Lucien was far from impressed with the bowels of structure, its scent lay far to the opposite of what he had enjoyed just an hour before. It took some time to navigate the lower levels, but in time evidence of torchlight ahead gave indication of destination almost achieved.

There was no mistaking the haughty irritation that shrouded Lucien's person, each man in immediate area given cold gaze as female voice drifted outward from near doorway.

"Who claims to be in charge here?"

One of the gathering stepped forward, "I am, Sir."

"Are you daft man? Can you not follow the most simplistic of mandates?!"

"Sir...."

One manicured hand went up for silence, "You are an embarrassment to the uniform that you are currently clothed in. Mister Pinon shall not be pleased and I am much in the mind set to have you stripped of your office. Stand out of my way, Sir!"

"But...."

"But?!....But nothing, Sir! You shall do as I say, and do so to the very letter. Mister Pinon is to arrive very shortly and it is my advice to you, though I doubt your base mind shall comprehend, that you fall back and give me no further issue." Stepping past and through portal frame, Lucien's attention fell full to the woman and man huddled in far corner.

"Madame, it would be in your very best interest to depart and do so with great haste. You have been granted a boon of luck, in so much as it is me and not the one I am to meet, that has just gained this cell."

Low flicker of torch hinted at her current expression and it was not one over pleasing. Lucien inclined chin a degree, "I shall not repeat myself, Madame. These are not matters that bode well with argument."

He turned slightly to address near guard, "Will you kindly escort this woman to the upper reaches. This is no place for a Lady to be, nothing good shall come of it, I assure."

As she was escorted away with much protest, Lucien approached his Charge and spoke with collected calm, "My name, Sir, is Lucien Manchester. My services have been called upon to act as advisor on your behalf under the current circumstance that you seem to have found yourself in."

It is time to pause, even so early, for this account is not intended to be about my life...but is, as I have said, about my life's secrets. Secrecy is intrinsic to my work. ~ Christopher Priest

“Five and Twenty Ponies, Trotting thru’ the Dark.

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk. Laces for a Lady, Letters for a Spy.Watch the wall my darling; While the Gentlemen go by.”~Rudyard Kipling

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As the guard forcibly took Lilly’s arm, she turned to look at the Captain one last time. “I love you, John. Please remember that!” She repeated over and over again before the heavy iron door shut behind them.

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Lady Tess St. Claire dreaded the silence and the waiting, especially alone in the dimly lit hall. Things had not gone as plan. She was successful enough to get Mistress Lilly an audience with the condemn Captain, but did see far enough to secure a position to obtain audience herself.

“Damn!” She muttered to herself. With a deep sigh she knew that thing now had to change. Nothing seemed to have gone right after the death of her cousin Reggie Killingsworth. Still, she had to save face with Lord Darnly. She knew that there would be creditors knocking on her doors as soon as she touched English soil again. The capture of one prize for a purse was all Tess could think of now.

She shuttered at the thought of living like those she ‘fancied a game’ with. Most of them were just simple middlesort, but there were the ones that she dreaded and she had met her share of them both in London and in Port Royal. The lowly sort that would soon as cut your throat than look at you. But there were more serious matters to attend to as of the moment.

Tess pulled her purse from her pocket. In it, there was a piece of parchment once sealed with the Darnly crest now rested in the palm of her hand. “Why must I always be the one to do your dirty jobs, eh Robbie?” She said to herself. Tess knew that this letter would ensure that Mistresses Lilly would return to London, no matter what.

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“Damn him! Damn Lord Sterling!” shouted Lord Darnly. He quickly returned home from his brief meeting with Lord Sterling. As his butler collected his coat at the main door, Lord Darnly continued to stomp through the halls of his manor. The morning was an unsuccessful attempt on securing any chance of getting cousin Lewis home safety. The shame he would cause the entire family and their heirs if he were to be captured for his crimes.

Lord Darnly entered his bedroom, quickly ripping off his wig and throwing upon his bed. Not knowing that he had accidentally tossed it on top of his little spaniel bitch, Moll. A whelp came from the bed. “What? What was that? Oh, do come here Dearest.” He said picking Moll up in his arms. The creature’s body quivered until it felt safe in his arms.

Though he was not found of dogs, especially ones this small, he grew attached to Moll. It had belonged to Mistress Lilly. He had purchased it for her because she adored it so. He had fond memories of her play with it in his gardens and begging for her attentions every time she would come home late from the theater.

With a sigh, he looked into the little dog’s face. “I am a fool, you know. All I wanted was to give her the world. Why must she be so stubborn?” The dog barked a reply. “That so?” He said patting it on the head. “I cannot stand not hearing from my associated. Tess at least writes and as for Pinon, he best send word soon. I do not care how they do it, just bring Lilly back!

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There in the dimly lit hall, the two women sat. The guard had return Lilly from whence she game. It was a pitiful sight.

With tears in her eyes, Lilly refused to feel sorrow. “Damn!” She shouted and slammed her fist into the palm of her hand. Tess quickly jumped at the exclamation made by Lilly. “I should have done something…anything to stay with him! Oh, Lady St. Claire you should have seen him there. He was in a most pitiful state. He was not the man I remembered. I fear it was worse then I could ever imagine. They have him chained like a beast. How will we ever save him? What must we do to claim his freedom?

Tess turned to Lilly and took her hands. He is here for a murder that he committed. Some overseer; or something or other. Truth be told, they say there is a witness. If this be true, I fear that the magistrate of this island will do his duty and lay Captain Sterling in his grave.

Lilly looked back at Tess. “There must be something I can do?” “There is.” Tess said softly as she handed over the letter. “What’s this?” “Oh please, just read the damn thing!” Lilly looked puzzled by the letter and by Tess’ mood.

The salutation was to Lady St. Claire stating that she was instructed to ‘find’ Mistress Lilly McKinney and tell her of the disheartening news.

Tess watched Lilly’s face go from disbelief to heart wrenching pain in a matter of seconds. The tears soon were followed by deep mournful sobs. “My baby boy is dead?! You knew of this and decided to tell me this news now?! NOW!” Deeper sobs now over took her causing the guard on duty to show concern as he watched from his post. “His father needs to know that his baby is dead and you wait until now to tell me?!”

Tess’ eyes soon filled with tears. “I just received the letter this morning, Mistress. Lord Darnly’s letter states that he was placed to rest on his estate so when you return back to London you may visit his grave whene…”

AURGH! screamed Lilly is a fit of rage. “I curse him! I curse you all! Lilly stood from her chair and looked down at Tess. “Mark my words, if I ever return, it better be in a wooden box! I swear to my heavenly father if I see Lord Darnly I shall cut out his heart myself! He has destroyed what happiness I had left in my life and for this I will seek revenge!”

If a fury of rage, Lilly left the prison. The room once again quiet, Tess quickly looked over at the guard who had witnessed the whole confrontation. “Well…that went well, don’t you think?”

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In her fury, Lilly could all see was the faces of those who hurt her. No man would ever do so again. A knife or pistol would serve its purpose at this very moment. Ney, not for the mourning mother who had just lost her child be the angry woman who only sought to revenge herself for those who mistreated her.

Lilly skirted down the streets with a quicken step looking for a warm place to sit and contemplate her plan. She soon entered McDonough’s. Even at early hour, the tavern was active with noise and laughter. Lilly quickly took a seat on a small table near the fire. A gazing eye from the bar took notice. It wasn’t every day a woman entered her tavern alone.

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Liam caught up to Ian just before they got past a small alley way between two buildings, one of which was an Ordinary. Liam grabbed Ian from behind and pulled him into the space between the buildings and spun him around, slapping a hand across his mouth. Ian was startled, but soon as he recognized his brother he smiled and pulled the hand off. He whispered gruffly. “Tanks brudder. . . good ta be out o tha place.” Liam held him against the wall and hissed in his face. “Don’t get caught agin! I ain’t got th coin left ta free yer agin! Least til we make more. . .” Ian nodded and Liam let him go while they both brushed the dust from Ian’s clothes. “There, ye look fine, not like a lad who dun jest broke outta prison. . . lets get something in our bellies, I got some copper left.” Liam dug into the bottom of his jacket pocket and produced six small coins. “Not much, but it’ll do.” Looking out into the street, watching for soldiers they waited until it looked clear before heading out.

Titim gan éirí ort.

Go mbeire an diabhal leis thú

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee and teeming with souls shall it ever be.

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The carriage rocked gently, its suspension being tried at times with imperfections that pocked lane surface. It was a silent progress but for the mid day chorus of Port Royal occupants taking care of various task and desire. Vehicle eased to halt, waiting for congestion to clear, something that was urged with crass comment from Driver's post ahead and above. With subtle jerking motion, movement was acquired again.

The semi stuffy air was a welcome change from that of the more so existing within deserted inn room. Pungent smell of ocean, both salt and humanity, wafted and assaulted through luft of drawn shades. Frenchman kept his own counsel, knowing that any contradiction in verbose form would gain nothing more that venomous rebuttal from his companion. Her form and posture was kept in veiled view while he maintained carriage of disconcert.

Vehicle slowed again to round corner, to the left the slightest glimpse of prison fortitude could be viewed in fleet. He attention rested full on it though flap of shade, focus rapt upon its' presence far after its' fade. Her expression pinched to some unshared thought, then slowly smoothed once again.

Ride changed and adjusted as wheels numbering four left cobbled surface, meeting with softer support of what some might call road. The destination was set, her determination unshaken. One course of action had already been set into place, but one was not enough to wager on securely. Re-enforcements were to be called upon, and one came to mind with surety. One that possessed equal leverage to that held by Eldest Sibling. One that held sway....

It was only a matter of gaining His interest….A gamble in itself.

O shoshoy kaste si feri yek khiv sigo athadjol.~Romani Proverb

Celui qui ne sait pas se taire sait rerement bien parler.~Pierre Charron

Attention! All formats of plot and characterizations produced under the monikers "Aurore Devareaux" or "Tempest Fitzgerald" are protected under the statutes of Copyright law. All Rights Reserved. F.T.M.

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The morning had risen early to wake Thomas in his new tavern. He washed his face quickly in a small basin of lukewarm water. Dressing, he made his way downstairs to just catch the sun growing above the harbor. This was the first time he was able to view the pub in daylight. Dust had settled on many upended chairs and tables, and quite frankly for his price he had purchased, he was not pleased with the Governor's agent.

A wry thought crossed Thomas' mind. He opted to persue it instead of readying the tavern for business. "Soon enough," he told himself.

"Nothing more excellent nor more valuable than wine was ever granted mankind by God."

-Plato

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