Port Royal, Jamaica

[Ransom]

With very little in my stomach except broth and a bit of chicken, the brandy went straight to my head. Which bolstered my bravado even more.

"Oh come, come, Auntie. Why not cut your losses? Surely a bird in the hand...or is it a pig in a poke...I always get those two confused. Why go to all the trouble of shiping me off to Merry Old England, assuming you could, when you can make a killing in goods and chattels here? So much less embarrasing for you, than if Seymour threw me off, which he would."

Violet's face was turning purple with supressed rage. "I have half a mind to have you arrested. I could you know, considering. Or I could have your men arrested and hanged. Would you enjoy watching that?"

"You wouldn't dare," I replied, my voice as cold as ice. "The scandal would ruin you. And believe me, I'd shout it to the rooftops that you and Albert benefited from my little sailing adventures."

At that point I thought Albert was going to throw something at me. Violet hissed, "You are a viper at my busom. We offer you a chance to return to your home, and this is the thanks we get?"

"I did not ask for your hospitality. As I recall, I was drugged so I would go quietly. You brought the viper in, now you reap the rewards." I gave her a smile. "Take Sebastian's offer and be rid of me for good. Unless, having been given a glimpse into my family, he's decided he'd rather marry a fishwife."

I turned to Sebastian and raised my glass. "What say you, my lover?"

['Bastian Devareaux]

So absorbed in the action at hand, it took a moment to realize that his opinion was called on. Straightening posture and flicking a wee tad of lint from azure adornment, Sabastian inclined chin just so, then looked to where Lady Cunningham stood in livid granduer. He seemed to allow time its' wayward pace as if caught in some private musing before giving over to comment with good natured ease, "The offer still stands, I have no interest in it being otherwise."

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

Violet turned flashing grey eyes on Sebastian. Her voice fairly shook with anger. "I don't know what charade you are playing at, sir, but I tell you, it won't work. As depraved a woman as my nice is, I will not allow her to marry into a family of gypsies, no matter how wealthy they appear to be."

Her neice rose unsdeadily. "That's enough. I am tired of being bargained for like some nag at a horse market. You forget, Violet, that I am of age. I can choose my own husband, assuming I want one. And quite frankly, Sebastian suites me rather nicely." She gave him a sweet smile. "As he knows only too well."

"Please," Albert inturupted, "Let's not dwell on your sordid relationship. Besides, I know fairly well what generates the wealth of the Devareaux's, and I decline to be associated with it, by marriage or any other means."

Violet gave Sebastian a look of triumph. "You see. It is of no use. Your bribery attempt has failed. In which case, I feel we have nothing more to disuss."

['Bastian Devareaux]

Dauphin pursed his lips, all effort of farce melting from expression and replaced readily; feral glint came quick to darkened sights and nod of mock courtesy was given.

"As you wish, Madame. For I only aim to....please." The last word dripped of exotic temptations. He stared boldly upon Lady Cunningham's person while addressing Lord, "You are quite astute in your observations, Monsieur. Do take care to measure the ground you tread upon before making further conjectures. Regardless of what you know or do not, what services we provide are quite far reaching and there are those that willingly partake that could make your existence rather uncomfortable within rank and file. Be of intelligence and do not force mine hand."

Christophe moved forward, gathering what had been set for display then backed two paces to the left of Dauphin's standing. Allowing veiled threat and its possible outcomes to sink in, Sabastian extended hand to Ransom while keeping sight trained on Elders, "Your niece has readily stated her wants and thinkings. I prefer to see her wishes fulfilled...In fact I insist on such."

[Ransom]

In my attempt to take his offered hand, the injury, the lack of nurishment, and the brandy finally had thier way. To my horror, and extream annoyance, the room began to spin, the floor waver.

"I do believe, mon pearl, that to my great embarrassment and mortification, I am about to....."

The parlor and its occupants dissappearted behind a dark veil.

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly slowly opened the garden gate and went to the kitchen door. She found it, once again, left unlatched awaiting her arrival. Inside, she found Sally tending the fire and warming the kettle.

“Good,” Sally whispered. “They are still waiting for you upstairs.”

As Lilly slowly made her way to the upper hall, she found the door slightly ajar. Lilly peered into the dimly lit room and it was their she could see Nelly and Croaker still sitting around the bedside of Captain Sterling.

Lilly could bearly make out the low whispering voices of Nelly and Croaker. Nelly's voice was too soft to hear every word, but the tone was worrisome. Croaker's low deep voice now sounded muffled as he lent over the body.

With a light tapping on the door Lilly entered. "I have brought the medicine you seek." She said as she handed it over to Croaker.

"How is he fairing?" Lilly asked as she took the side of the bed. Nelly sighed. The very sound of Nelly's sigh was like glass into an open wound. "No change." Nelly said, wrapping her blanket about her. "I am going to bed. My eyes will not stay open. Stay with him, Lilly and do let me know if there is any change."

[D.Patrick Burke]

**bump**

[D.Patrick Burke]

Bump de bump

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

"I do believe, mon pearl, that to my great embarrassment and mortification, I am about to....."

At that precise moment, chaos erupted.

To Lady Violet's fury, the sailors from her neice's ship burst into the parlor, the great Moor leading them. The look on his face would have frightened the most stalwart soldier. Devareaux had turned to catch her fainting niece, and his companion, placing himself between Sebastian and the sailors, had pulled a sword. Albert, still in night robe, bellowed at one and all to "leave the premises at once."

After the sailors, the Devareaux party rushed in, to the defence of their master. Poor Preston, pushed aside in the melee, slumped against the wall, one hand pressed to his heart, his jaw dropped in fright.

The big Moor glared at the swordsman, standing between him, Devareaux, and her neice, who was limp as a fish. Then looking past him, demanded of Sebastian in a menacing voice, "Give her to me."

Past all patience, and wishing her neice to the devil, Lady Violet shouted most unbecomingly, "Oh for God's sake, give the chit to him, and let's end this debacle before my parlor is destroyed."

['Bastian Devareaux]

Christophe bristled to the Moor's demand and held ground without waver. Near chamber door, Sean Roberts kept vigil with pistol at arm's legnth; bidding time for the need of fizzen action. As verbal whirlwind stoked and harried parlor's surround, Beggar Prince held rule within the eye of storm craddling lover's form; his focus narrowed and centered upon the large Nubian.

Angled features gave nothing in neutral poise, yet the cold fire that raged in deep chocolate waters emphisized what former did not. His was the embodiment of some dangerous exotic creature, unhurried with the concerns of vorpal reaction; assured that when and if such action were needed, victory would be his...And his alone.

As if the whirlwind of threat was of little concern, Sabastian readjusted his hold on Lover's flacid being; gently pushing aside a nomad forelock of hair from her brow. A glance was cast to where his own kept placement, then to where Nubian menace claimed place in the arena.

"Non..."

The single announcement was given with undertone purveying no room for negotiation.

"I should see you and myself in Hell before fulfilling your want...You have born the reason she is here and I will not trust your judgment further. A wise man would let me and mine pass unhindered...."

A feral smile brushed Dauphin's lips.

"An un-wise man shall pay the Devil his due..."

[Ransom]

Filled with rage, Africa glared at the Frenchman. In his deepest soul, he wished the Rakehell had never come to this cursed island. He wished the captain had not done business with, and then taken up with this feral-eyed foreigner. He also felt betrayed, for he had taken the captain to the old man for safety and healing, and the old man had turned her over to this virago of an aunt.

Africa knew he could take the swordsman, but the man with the pistol would shoot him before he could get to the Frenchman, or his captain. Africa was wise enough to know he would be no use to Ransom if he was shot dead. Behind him, the rest of the crew waited, weapons drawn, pistols cocked. Man to man, the odds were in thier favor, but the damage would be great.

With resolution, Africa looked at the unconcious woman, to whom he would give his very life if she asked it, then met the gaze of the man who held her. With his deep voice soaked in menace, he said, "She be our captain. Where she go, we all go. If we let you take her, den we go with you, to make sure she safe. Dat be the only way you and your men walk from dis room. I don believe in your devil, but I send you to meet him if you don agree." And he leveled his pistol at Sebastian's head.

['Bastian Devareaux]

Dauphin looked past antagonist to where Sean remained and with slight incline of chin, addressed off handedly, "Monsieur Roberts, you are a wagering man; as most of your blood are. Is this not a truth?"

The Irishman's brow furrowed briefly, "Aye. tis a truth."

"Very well. Then do tell me, if one were to say that the gentleman before me would be successful with pistol intention, would you wager for or against ?"

Sean considered briefly before answering query, "I would be one to wager agains' it. Tha' big fella would be more likely to hit the gerl or the mantle than yerself judgin' from the flinter he's aimin'."

Sabastian pursed his lips, gauging Antagonist, "Well put, and I dare say that I would wager the same said way..." He locked eyes with the other, "So what shall it be? Do you wish to tempt Fate? And if you were successful with your single shot, do you relish the explination that shall be demanded of you from mademoisselle?"

Though his composure was cool, Sabastian's patience were dwindling. He was beginning to tire of the Mental Chess game this night; the amusements long passed. What he desired was the privacy and comfort of four posted citadel where much needed rest might be procured. He thought that his "charge" might well agree with such notion.

Irritation was building in Dauphin's inner core. An irritation that was quite subtle, but those who knew him well would recognize the signs brewing. Christophe's position kept him in the semi-blind, but Sean's view was unobstructed. And in that view, he gleaned what was to become unsettling if not brought to bay. Whisperings late in the night had said that Andre' was much his Father's son and Sabastian more his Mother's. But every now and again nuances more known of the Elder would show in the Younger.

In those rare times, the aftermaths were not recomended for those faint of heart...

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

Taking in the volatile scene, Lady Violet, in danger of having her parlor not only shot up, but stained with blood, decided to take matters into her own hands.

"Oh for God's sake." Striding purposely across the room, and shoving her way past the Frenchman with the sword, she stood in front of Devareax and reaching out a hand, slapped her unconcious niece across the check. "Wake up, you chit. You created this fiasco, now you must deal with it."

Then she turned to the big Moor. "Put that pistol down at once, I say." Then she glared at all the men present. "Put every weapon away this instant. I am a Dutchess, and I will NOT have my parlor shot up by a bunch of ruffians."

Albert held up his brandy glass, in salute to his wife. "Here, here. Well said, my dear."

['Bastian Devareaux]

A pin's freefall and landing upon lush Turkish rug could have been heard as mixed reaction sallied forth with Dutchess command. Irishman at portal proxy was mouth agape to said charge; Frenchman glowered to the rough handling and Rom Dauphin was in some glamour of bemusment when Madame struck beloved with serious intent. It was a Carnival of the Dumbstruck which gave face as she made quite clear her want. The Dumbstruck who metamorphisised into school boys hastily doing as were told with fumbled movement.

His Lordship's comment fell upon deaf ears as all eyes kept steady note of Lady Cunningham's person. Dauphin backed away with precious burden until edge of chaise was felt at calf touch. Making quick survey of surrounds, charge was laid upon expensive surface; oil of lavender rising with waft of linen disturbance. Down to one knee, Sabastian gave trust to Christophe's being and spoke words just above whisper to near unconscious hearing; words that pleaded removal of sleep's veil, words to drive back Morpheus' hold...

[Nelly Greene]

Nelly remained a moment longer, hovering betwixt one room and the next as she lingered within the door frame. Pale eyes watched as surgeon took the small bundle Lilly McKinney had to offer, prepared its contents and then administered it as best as one could to so uncooperative a patient.

Sterling would sleep now, undisturbed for hours, save for one small seizure that testified to medicine's quality. Nelly would barely close her eyes.

She looked at McKinney briefly, concerned about the other woman's nearness to the man she now had her own sights upon. When he recovered, if he did so, Nelly could only wonder who he would turn to. It would be easy to keep him from his wife, for she had not lifted a finger to even inquire after him, let alone seek him out. Even his stooges were more concerned about their mistress's feelings than the man's life. It was only a matter of just a few more of the right moments before Nelly Greene could pluck the captain away from his already troubled marriage. But Lilly McKinney? She would require watching to be certain.

[Cheeky Actress]

The night drew on. The evening's air hung heavy as Lilly lingered by the Captain's bed. She was hopeful, yet Lilly hoped that Nelly would venture off to her own bed...that was not the case. There, on the other side of the bed, Nelly sat peering up once in a while to make sure that Lilly was still there.

From time to time Croaker looked on him. It had became a waiting game for all of them. Lilly could only think about finding time alone with the Captain. She needed to have a private word with him...and NOT within the prying eyes of Nelly Greene.

[Ransom]

....Making quick survey of surrounds, charge was laid upon expensive surface; oil of lavender rising with waft of linen disturbance. Down to one knee, Sabastian gave trust to Christophe's being and spoke words just above whisper to near unconscious hearing; words that pleaded removal of sleep's veil, words to drive back Morpheus' hold...

Subconciously, I took the blow to the cheek as just another in a long line of blows and injuries I had recieved over the years. However, they were not usually followed by soft, encouraging words to wake. No, usually they were followed by either more blows, or harsh words shouted in mocking anger, and a few kicks in the ribs. Cautiously, I opened one eye, still unsure where I was or how I had gained a prone position. Sebastian's face came into focus, and I smiled. Then I looked past him, recognizing the faces of my crew, but not all of the other men in the room. Lady Violet and Albert stood to one side, glaring in my direction.

Slowly I sat up and surveyed the crowd. "My, it looks like the Capulets and the Montaques. Yet I see Othello has taken the place of Tybalt." I turned to Christophe, "And you must be Mercutio?"

I looked at Africa. "It will be all right. Africa, you stay, but one of you tell Ludo what has happened, and continue to keep watch on my special friend."

Africa nodded, then spoke to Tunney. The men dispersed as quickly as they had come. Africa stayed planted in the middle of the room like a giant oak, and just as immovable.

Redirecting my gaze back to Sebastian, I whispered, "Better take this Juliet home, my Romeo. Let the Moor acompany us. The rest of my crew can put up at the Royal Grace for the night. I'm sure my Aunt will foot the bill, if only to get them out of her house." I shut my eyes a moment, trying to clear my still muddled head. "Can't think why I passed out like that. Must be fumes from that damned Lavender oil the maid smeared on me to help me sleep."

['Bastian Devareaux]

Hint of uncertainty furrowed Dauphin's brow at names called and glance was tossed towards Christophe briefly before returning to charge. Reply to her final statement was rendered as quizzical arch of one brow; he had found the scent in question rather appeasing, but made mental note of her distaste on the subject. Raising to stand, chin was inclined towards Sean who retreated to courtyard beyond with the closure of door.

Sabastian offered a smallish bow to Lord and Lady, daring glint swimming depth of dark sights, "It seems that our little soire' has come to a close. I dare say it has been a most interesting evening, but all good things must come to closure eventually..." He paused to extend a hand towards Lover, " Mademoisselle appears to be worn from all the excitement, so it is only proper that I should attend her wishes for departure. Perhaps we shall have the pleasure of each other's company again in the near future...." A mischievous expression glossed angled features.

[Ransom]

I took the offered hand, and he gently pulled me to my feet. I stood, unsteady a moment, the injury to my shoulder throbbing. Gritting my teeth, I refused to allow the weakness to show. Looking toward Lady Violet, I said, "Tomorrow I will send Africa to fetch my clothes and weapons. I will instruct him to remain on your doorstep until you turn them over. I suggest you do so."

"This isn't the end of this matter," she replied coldly. "And don't think I have been fooled into believing you really intend to marry this man. You may leave my house, and I will return your effects, but you are still a member of this family, no matter how much you disgrace it's name."

"I'd rather you just put a curse on me, and have done."

She stepped closer. Under the powder her face was pink with anger. "You are the curse. But as I am immune to pagan beliefs, I choose to challenge it. I will win in the end, Alexandra. Count on it."

"Don't bet money on it, Aunt. And if you ever call me Alexandra again, I may have to shoot you." Then I turned to Sebastian. "Please, get me out of this mad-house."

[Cheeky Actress]

When dawn finally crept over the horizon, money was given in hand for services rendered. Croaker looked at the coins that now filled his palm. It was a hearty sum for a nights work. He said nothing, but tipped his hat to Nelly. Then before leaving the Captain’s side, he looked over at Lilly. “Remember not to move him vet. Not until his head is sound and he has eaten at least. And make sure he follows these instructions or you will need to call on me again.” Lilly nodded and Croaker left the room.

The port town was waking up. The street merchants moved about with their barrows, making their early morning rounds before the morning market opened. Some sat and finished what little morning meal they had as others bid good morning and good-bye to their families.

Ah, there was a time when he would have done the same. The basic routine of opening his small practice every morning and greeting his patients with a friendly hello and great concern for their well-being. Come mid-morning, his wife and twin girls would visit with him, bring food and keep him company until they were off the market or to the court where family business would be conducted. However, those memories were many years ago and now he found himself half way across the world. Every day he would struggle to convince himself that it was for the best; not for personal gain that so many may have suspected. Yes, the King had given him money, but he knew that it would do better in the hands of his family – so he took very little with him. Now he could only hope that they were safe and that perhaps one day he too, would have enough money and courage to return to his far away land.

As he made his way down the narrow little cobblestone alley to the back of his shop he pulled a key from his pocket and entered his lodgings. He pulled his hat from his brow and wiped it with his forearm. The heat of the day was already making him uncomfortable. He quickly poured himself a drink and then poured some water into a bowl along with some linen and entered his bedroom.

The room was dark. There in the cutter’s own bed laid Croaker’s most current case…and a bad one at that. “So, how are you keeping this day?” Croaker asked his current sickroom addition. No answer came from him, yet that was to be expected. This one rarely spoke a word unless he was hungry or in pain. Croaker still did not know who he was or where he came from. Croaker only knew that he was in dire need of medical help when he came to him. As Croaker treated the man the first night her came to him, this patient promised riches beyond his wildest dreams if he promised not to let him die. So far, Croaker had yet to see one thin coin.

Croaker peered underneath the many layers of bandages as he looked at his patient’s wounds. “You are healing nicely. But it will be some time before you can walk.” Croaker said pointing at the man’s legs. One splinted and the other wrapped in linen to treat a deep wound. “And I am worried that you are still battling with fluids in your lower lungs. Here, let me have a listen.” Croaker placed his ear to the chest of the injured man and listened carefully. “Yes, you are very congested. I will keep giving you that elixir you seem to be so found of.” He said with a smile. The eye’s of the patient just narrowed with disgust. “You must have wondered what kept me away all night, eh? Well I shall tell you.” Croaker said with an air of delight as he pulled up a chair to the said of the bed and stared to apply the new dressing to his patient’s body. “I think I have fallen into a good deal of luck last night. I was summons to a bawd’s house to treat a man with many wounds. I understand that he is an important man…a man of position…and perhaps money. The woman of the house gave me more than enough. I am sure it was to make sure I keep my mouth shut and say nothing of what I heard or saw last night. Is that too tight?”

The patient’s lowered a little to let Croaker know that he was find. But Croaker could tell that the story was entertaining to his patient. Boredom was evident in his waking hours. Croaker continued to wrap the linen about his arm. “I think I will go back later tonight and check on him again. I if I can, I will plead with him my story and ask that he take me back to London when he leaves here. I know that I can find another ship from London’s ports once I am there to set sail for Poland. Yes, this is what I will do. He seems like a good man this English Sea Captain Sterling.”

The patient’s body quickly reacted to the words. “What is wrong? Too tight? I did ask…” It was then the patient pulled his arm away from Croaker and with eyes narrowing uttered his first words in over two weeks.

“Captain…John Ssssterling?!”

[Professor Angus Trilby]

Life had finally settled down to Angus's satisfaction. He puttered with his alembics, read antique Arabic tomes on mathematics and astronomy, shattered two beakers of bubbling tincture of saffron, stepped on Cleopatra's tail—her wild shriek of protest taking ten years off his life, and received by special delivery through his connections at the book store, a lovely but slightly dessicated specimen of Crotophaga ani.

No soldiers pounding on his door, no frantic actresses begging for dangerous drugs, no giant Blackamoors hovering about, no drunken peacocks sleeping it off in his study, and no red-headed she-devil to give him apoplexy.

And he found, to his utter disbelief, that he was bored.

[Capt. Sterling]

The day lingered as Sterling slept, but as night finally fell once more, he finally roused and found Nelly asleep in the chair besides his bed. With great care, he removed himself from the bedclothes and acquired his clothing. After dressing, he made his way downstairs and out of the house, then cautiously, moving in great pain, he made his way to the beach and the boat that would be waiting from the Archangel.

For now he needed to leave this place and clear his name. Then he would return for what belonged to him.

[Cheeky Actress]

It may have been the sound of stairs squeeking that made Lilly wake up from her place in the kitchen. At first she thought it was Sally up early to start the morning meal, but as Lilly looked about the kitchen she still saw Sally fast asleep on her straw filled tick near the fire.

Suddenly Lilly got a very sinking feeling in her stomach. With that, she quickly gathered up her self and left the house quickly.

[Capt. Sterling]

The trek had been grueling but he had made the beach. Sweat soaked through his clothing as a fever raged within. But the actress had accomplished her task and an ever faithful knot of men stood waiting in the darkness upon the shore.

Mr. de' Dogge was the first to recognize Sterling and quickly made his way toward him catching the captain as he nearly collapsed upon the sand. All it took was a look before others came to help the marine captain with his burden and Sterling was gently lifted into the boat.

Strong hands seized the long craft and pushed her into the surf and the order to give way was silently issued.

[Ransom]

Ioan had spent a bad night listening to some Italian singing arias under his window. No amount of cursing the man had stopped the catterwalling, nor had a chamber pot thrown out the window. Ioan knew the man was from the Rakehell, and was no doubt making his life miserable on purpose.

But after days and days of being followed, hounded, and kept awake all night, Ioan'd had enough. He was getting out of Port Royal, even if he had to crawl on some ship, stow away, or pirate one. As it happened, he knew of a fat brig called the Sweet Temptation, which was due to sail on the next tide. He didn't know where she was going, nor did he care. He just knew he was going to be on her, no matter what.

Ignoring the little Italian who followed, Ioan headed for the docks.