Port Royal, Jamaica

[Mark Read]

We had just over an hour until the service so I decided to take Lady Barbossa along the merchants row. I had not been in town too long, but she need not know that. After all, it is not a massive town, just a little spit of land really. I had seen enough to know where a few shops were that would strike her fancy. I had a thought of where the church was located, and hearing it's bells toll in just a few minutes, I would be able to get my bearings and know for sure.

I first took her to the gold smiths shop. While most of Richard Lord's wares were on commission, he would always be at the docks to see what may have come in and often offer those bejeweled goods in is store.

He had quite a selection of finished items, at least 12 pieces, most gold with emeralds. I fawned over a few of them, but the Lady did not seem as impressed. I assume she was used to seeing and seizing much better.

Next we went into John Drucker's Tailor Shop. He was the man to seek if one wanted the finest look in town. I don't know of his connections, but the magnificent bolts of fabric that seemed to fall off many ships and into his shop were second to none.

I found myself drawn to a bolt of lace. it was a very tight weave, yet surprisingly soft. As I caressed the material I was taken back in my memory...to a time when I could feel this type of material more often. A time when I had a home with dresses made out of soft soft, supple threads....a time when.....

A voice snapped me out of my daydream. It was Drucker, "did you want to purchase some?"

"uh...no.... thank you, I was just admiring it."

I looked about to see Lady barbossa watching me, curiously.

[LadyBarbossa]

Striding gracefully over to Read-

"Admiring the lace?" with a genteel voice and fanning herself as the air was a bit stuffy in the shop. Then took to admire it as well. "Mmm, it is fine." And pondered.

"I'm presuming, sir," speaking to the shopkeeper but not facing him.. yet- "That you are always welcoming new fabrics?"

Finally turning to face him as she strode towards him. "I've recently come to Port Royal and have several bolts of fine and exotic fabrics."

[Bartholomew Treate]

I look up from my drink to see Henry Morgan, hisself at the bar. Imagine that! I guess there is no bar in town that he has not been in, or the whorehouses that adorn their upper levels. A great soldier he is... none better. I served under him on several occasions and he has proven a wise and brave leader.

He looks a bit out of place here in civilization. He was a bit of a dandy. Not the person I knew in the jungles of Cuba or on the streets of Puerto Principe, as she lay burning to the ground. We were not on first names. I was aboard a different vessel in the raid. But who was not in awe of the man.

I rose to greet him but he had already finished his business here. He paid the barkeep and left with a bottle of the finest rum he had. A great idea I thought. If I needed to go into a church I'd better be fortified meself.

I walked up to the barkeep and asked for a bottle of rum.

Without asking he reached for an onion bottle on the back wall. The cheap stuff.

I tossed him some coin and chuckled. I guess he already knew the difference between old Henry and I. I was not born to station nor would I ever rise to it.

I popped the cork and took a swig as I stepped out onto the sandy street.

The service was about to start and I owed it to my captain to be there. Particularly since I had missed my call to be aboard the Oxford last night because of too much drink. My love of liquor saved my skin it did. Henry and I had survived for entirely different reasons, but we had that much in common.

The pews were already beginning to fill up when I arrived at the church. All of the town's society sat at the front with the lesser residents falling in behind. Even in the lord's house I was not a favored son and took my rightful place.

I sat in the last pew in the right wing, back and away from all the wealthy, solemn, righteous and saved. This should be a grand show, I thought. A grand show, indeed.

[Mark Read]

I allowed a few minutes for Lady Barbossa to conduct business with Drucker, then I interrupted, "Pardon my intrusion, but is is nearing 6 O'clock. We need to begin towards the church to pay our respects."

As we walked towards the church, I decided to offer a little Port Royal infomration in a whispered conversation, "While there are three menacing looking forts guarding Port Royal, one would have to wonder how much is look...and how much really is the power to defend. I suppose the person who would know that answer would be Major Beckworth.... I've heard his tongue can get a bit loose when he's been spending time at the Three Crownes.... especially after he's already spent a little time downstairs with the drink, and is looking to find the right girl to spend time with upstairs.... yes... a little silk and lace can go a long way...."

I cut the conversation off as we were nearing the church, a crowd had already assembled and were filing in and filling up the pews.

[Major Thomas Beckwith]

"The lovely Colleen can wait," Beckwith said to himself. Many good men, some aquaintances of his, had gone down with the Oxford.

Major Beckwith stepped through the doors of St. Paul's, the first time he had been in a church in some time, and took a seat in the second row of pews, an honor he claimed due to his station.

Beckwith looked about, on the faces slowly filling the church. Rich merchants, soldiers and sailors, and lowly labourers... all brought together by fate and tragedy.

"An interesting place, Jamaica is turning out to be," thought Beckwith.

As he took his seat, Major Beckwith caught a glimpse of the much heralded Admiral Sir Henry Morgan, terror of the Spanish Main. He must soon use his father's letter of introduction, and call upon the old buccanneer.

"Very interesting, indeed..."

[LadyBarbossa]

I allowed a few minutes for Lady Barbossa to conduct business with Drucker, then I interrupted, "Pardon my intrusion, but is is nearing 6 O'clock. We need to begin towards the church to pay our respects."

Glancing at Read, nodding to him, "Thank you," replying to him.

Nodding and closing up the business conversation with the shopkeep then moving towards Read to leave shop.

As we walked towards the church, I decided to offer a little Port Royal infomration in a whispered conversation, "While there are three menacing looking forts guarding Port Royal, one would have to wonder how much is look...and how much really is the power to defend. I suppose the person who would know that answer would be Major Beckworth.... I've heard his tongue can get a bit loose when he's been spending time at the Three Crownes.... especially after he's already spent a little time downstairs with the drink, and is looking to find the right girl to spend time with upstairs.... yes... a little silk and lace can go a long way...."

"I see," spoken slowly and drawn out. Softly and almost as though not interested. But already, in her mind, started to conjure up a way to interest herself in the fortifications of Port Royal and those behind those fortifications.

I cut the conversation off as we were nearing the church, a crowd had already assembled and were filing in and filling up the pews.

Her eyes watching and glancing through the crowd, taking in images of folks, pondering if anyone would stare and wonder who she was..or worse, if someone recognized her. But... not seeing a soul yet that had a clue... she continued on, fanning herself... walking with Mr Read into the Church for the Service.

[sirhenrymorgan]

The church was filled to overflowing. Not too surprising I thought to myself, as the parson made his opening remarks and led a short prayer. Church in Port Royal was just another social occasion - a place to be seen and see others. It was a breeding ground for gossip and innuendos all covered over by a few absolutions of sin and a sign of the cross.

Thankfully, the dear reverend had slipped me a piece of parchment with a bible verse scrawled upon it. I was ever thankful for the words of God escaped me at all times as his own grace had seem to escape me in my times of need.

I look about the church. There, in the front row was Lord Modyford and his wife, in from Spanish Town, the Lord Justice, the Commander, Major and officers of the fort resplendent in their uniforms, the widows and children of the men of the Oxford, the new arrivals from The Resurrection, and some of my old mates. There were also some merchants in attendance, no doubt to collect from the widows the debts of the dead. My own wife was not in attendance. I assumed she had just barely received word of my near death from the courier I had sent to the plantation. It was nearly a days' passage from here.

The small choir finished and I stood. I walked over to the podium and asked everyone to bow their heads in prayer. I waited for them all to bow and then quickly took a swig from the bottle I had set within the pulpit.

I then invoked my prayer.

In time of suffering and in times of grief, I am reminded of the Lord's words so eloquently written in (I glanced at the paper) Psalm 23:

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

he leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul:

he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;

thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:

thou anointest my head with oil;

my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:

and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Amen...

The crowd recited a respectful amen. And then I began my speech.

Your lordship, distinguished officials of Port Royal, gentle townfolk and guests,

It is with great sadness that we gather here today. A great tragedy has befallen our small community, touching nearly every one of us here today. 250 men have died in the service to their country and to the crown. I knew many of these men. Many have served admirably under me in times of battle, in times of strife, and in times of great glory. And now they await their meeting with their maker.

As you know, we are at an uncomfortable peace with Spain. The Spanish have never forgiven us for seizing this island so easily. And they will never miss an opportunity to hit us the hardest when our guard is down. Our new forts are still in a state of construction -- Fort Charles and the ships that guard the harbor are our only lines of defense here.

But there is a better defense than our forts, our cannons and our brave soldiers and men who would defend Port Royal in an invasion by the enemy. I offer a bolder plan. One of offense against the Spanish dogs. I propose that we strike them in their own towns, towns that are filled with the gold and silver and treasure that we have a god-given right to take from them in retribution for the lives that were lost, not only aboard the Oxford last night, but in their prisons, in their work camps and in their mines.

I will not rest until the death of every Englishman has been avenged.

I myself, do not know why I survived this tragedy. The details are vague to me. As I am sure it is to those others who were blown clear of the vessel during the explosion. Others here should have died looking at Bigford's gunner but for some reason they weren't aboard our first line of defense last night.

But it has renewed my sense of duty and purpose so that these men did not die in vein.

In the coming days I will be meeting with his Excellency, Sir Thomas Modyford, to examine the next steps to take. I pray that if called upon, our good captains will join in the fight and that the good men of Port Royal will take up arms and join us as we fight the Spanish dogs on Spanish soil instead of our own.

Thank you and good day...

I return to my seat and look over the crowd once again as the reverand addresses the congregation from the pulpit...

[Mark Read]

The service began as any other - mourners filed in, the choir sang an appropriate hymn, a prayer, a few words of remeberance from the Admiral, and then...

"I will not rest until the death of every Englishman has been avenged........I pray that if called upon, our good captains will join in the fight............ take up arms and join us as we fight the Spanish dogs on Spanish soil instead of our own...."

There were whispered mumbles throughout the crowd... I can only assume they were all thinking the same as I. Was this a memorial service or a war rally?

I am sure the reverend had kind words to saw about the lost sailors after the Admiral spoke, but I did not hear any of it. I was playing over his words, and wondering what his war with Spain would do to my future plans.

[Bonnylass]

Hello all, my name is Anne. I am new in town looking for some adventure. My spineless miserable excuse for a husband says he has no use for me on his trips. He says I have a temper, I say the woman deserved to have teeth knocked out no matter who she is!

I have attended tonight's mass in a dress, but I am done with these restrictive clothes. I am off to find, boots, breeches, and a good ale.......

[LadyBarbossa]

Listening to Morgan's speech.... barely giving a glance about with the slight murmers, but a slight glance to Mr Read who appeared rather uneasy with what Morgan stated.

Fanning herself she only sat there... being as genteel as possible. One really would have thought her to be an actual Lady with the Breeding of Royal blood. Ahh.. appearances could be deceiving.

Then whilst folks simmered a bit, her eyes glanced briefly about. Her eyes followed Morgan as she watched him sit.

[Capt. Sterling]

"My dear Master Hand, you must forgive me yet again," Sterling said, hearing the church bells toll. He pulled a card from the deck he kept in his pocket, and scrawled his name and the Archangel's on the card's blank back. He laid it down upon the table next to the suit. "I am truly interested in making the purchase, sir. If ye would be kind enough to send word round to me ship, regardin yer askin price, I would be most grateful and so would the lads. Now I must be takin me leave of ye, as I must away to the church for the service. I knew some of the men lost and it would not do to not pay my respects."

With a bow, Sterling glanced once more at the all too necessary red suit and then at the tall man before him. "Perhaps another time, you will tell me yer story." And then he was off. Still uncertain as to the lay out of the land, he followed the bells, pausing only long enough to stop at the goldsmith. Hesitantly, he removed his left glove and slipped the golden band from his third finger. "How much can ye give me for this?" he asked, his voice barely loud enough to be thought even a whisper. The apprentice left in charge whilst his master had gone ahead to the church, picked up the wedding ring and looked it over, then grinned at the captain. "Havin a spat with yer good wife?" he asked impudently. Sterling felt himself bristled, the heat made him uncomfortable beyond normal, and now this pup.... "My wife died. In childbirth along with my son," he said. "I have more pressing needs such as ready coin, than to keep something such as this ring. I do not need it to remember my Anne."

A deal struck, he had more than enough for the suit, and then perhaps, ....

He skidded to a halt outside the church. He could already hear the service in progress. "Damn, " he whispered under his breath. "Late again!" He moved just inside the church, taking his place close to the door. Already Sir Henry was in mid speech. My word how much had he already missed? He scanned the crowd as best he could and saw several of his officers present along with Andrew March and his wife Skittles. Sterling nodded slightly as the young girl finally spotted him in the rear of the church. He watched as she leaned upward to whisper in her husband's ear and then saw Andrew gently take her hand in his. The captain watched his first officer and his lovely wife, then suddenly felt the horrible sensation of the missing wedding band. He grasped at his hand, through his gloves, where the ring no longer was. "Oh Anne, why did ye leave me?" he thought to himself. And then he could bare the heat no longer, removing the great gray beaver hat, he began to try and move the air about him.

Edited October 26, 2009 by Capt. Sterling

[Skittles]

The service was long and afraid am I that most I could not understand. As the people from the church left and outside into the evening walked, my Andrew to our captain went. My Andrew excited is, for now there is a chance for prizes taken out at sea. Perhaps our luck is changing then. Shhh to mention luck, our captain believes not in it. I suppose he correct is but I am so certain not. From a land of Trolls sailed I... Now, stand I aside and watch as the menfolk amongst themselves do speak. And then another good thing happens. A man from the shipyards comes and tells our captain that he is ready for the Archangel to come the repairs to make. She is to sail into the yards tomorrow. The officers happy now are, except our captain. Something is troubling him, he is not right. He says he will not be back to the ship for dinner this night when earlier this day he did ask Andrew and Master Hazzards to dinner with him. Return he will when it is time to make for the careening of the ship.

"Skittles" March

[Major Thomas Beckwith]

His blood stirred by Henry Morgan's words, Major Beckwith stepped from the church into the still, sultry night air.

As he walked to the Three Crownes, he thought about the adventures lying ahead. Could he manage to be assigned aboard one of the English warships, to sail off into battle? All the drilling, all the practices; what good were they if one seldom put these honed skills to use?

The Three Crownes was full of merry-makers, as was normal for this time of night. Beckwith caught the look of his sweetheart, Colleen O'Donnell, an Irish woman with sparkling green eyes. He paid for a round for the house, and raised his tankard in toast... "A drink for one and all, in memory of those who have fallen, and to English victory upon the sea! God Bless His Royal Majesty, King Charles!"

Beckwith downed what would be only the first of many spirits that evening, although he kept in the back of his mind his duty to King and Country. He would not fail to be sober and at his appointed post in the morning.

[Capt. Sterling]

He was over taken by several of his officers as he left the church. Since he was closest to the door, he had hoped to disappear long before the mob exited but he was hailed by his first officer before he could even turn the corner. He greeted Mistress March with a kiss, then turned his attention to the excited ravings of his crew.

"Greetings Captain Sterling."

The small knot turned and watched as the gentleman from the shipyards approached and informed them that they now awaited the arrival of the Archangel for their care. The time was set for her to sail to the yards and the man left bidding them a good evening.

"See, sir, " Andrew March began. "Did I not be tellin ye things would change for the better for the 'angel?"

Sterling fixed his gaze on his first officer. Had he not been waiting for just such news? And yet, "well enough then," was all he could think of to say. There were still Letters of Marque to obtain. He stood, no longer listening to the others as they continued their praises for Sir Henry's challenge. Pompous arse, Sterling thought quietly to himself. Surely he would see to it that the Letters of Marque were denied to Sterling for some reason or other. The captain could already imagine the sting of his own class betraying him yet again.

"You will excuse me gentlemen, " Sterling finally said, weary of discussion of the service. Had he not just stood through most of it? Was there a point to hashing it about over and over again this night?

"See to it that all unnecessary hands are turned off this evening to find lodgings until the refit is completed, Master Hazzard. They still have time to bed down some where in this town. Give the men some extra money to cover any expenses."

"Captain?" Mr. Hazzard remarked, amazed by his orders.

"I cannot afford to lose good men to other ships, whilst they lay idle in this port as the 'angel is being treated for Teredo. My word, Sterling thought, what would I not give for a copper hull in these waters.

"Aye sir, " Hazzard said in acknowledgment. Sterling turned to Andrew. "I have some extra cash stowed away see that it is dividy up equally." "I will see ye in the morning then," Sterling said and broke away from his officers. He had not gone far when he felt Andrew March's hand upon his shoulder.

"Captain, I think it be best yer comin home to the 'angel tonight," March said, keeping his voice low. "I be thinkin ye could do with a rest from the looks of ye."

The captain turned to face March, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Thou hast over stepped thy bounds Master March. Presume not to make decisions over my life!"

"But sir...," March continued. He moved closer to his captain and lowered his voice further. "John yer not fit. Can ye not tell?"

For a moment, Sterling's features softened. "Tis the heat, Master March. Nothing more."

"Then why do ye be shivering?" March countered.

"Fool's talk, " Sterling snapped. "A meal is all I need, a drink and some," he heard himself falter a moment as the words caught in his throat. "And some fair company. I'll be back on the morrow to see to the 'angel. Now be off with ye afore ye cannot say the same."

He continued on, leaving Andrew March to stare after him. When he came to The Three Crownes, he entered. The place was in an uproar as a toast to King and Country was called for. He glanced quickly at the young officer raising his tankard amongst a crowd of all too eager men. God he could do with a drink himself, twas hot and yet he pulled his coat closer about himself. He made for the young lady at the bar. She was certainly charming enough.

[LadyBarbossa]

Oddly enough just as quickly as the Service had begun... it was over.

Thinking it odd as she remembered many a Service when young droned on for hours and hours it seemed.

Fanning herself as the afternoon heat within a building was stuffy and stifling.

She stood and began to slowly take her place to exit from the Church. But.. none to quickly.

Once again her eyes fell upon Morgan, watching the man. He was a curious fellow.

Turning her head to Read, then swiftly turning it back in front of her as she strode along towards the door.

Those amber-green eyes of hers fell upon Sterling as she made her way to the entrance-exit. Recalling seeing him at the docks earlier. No, it didn't bother her.. but she had not acquinted herself with him at least. Something about him struck her with curiousity.

Before she was able to approach Sterling.. he was out the door with the rest of the crowd and on his way.

She'd eventually acquaint herself to the man. Eventually. If the Fates be willing.

One more glance at Morgan and she strode out the door herself... sure that Read was right behind her.

[Bartholomew Treate]

I sat aghast as the Admiral looked me in the eye during his speech. I half thought that he believed me responsible for the explosion. That I was a saboteur. I did not know what to do next.

I sank down a bit in the pew and took a swig from my bottle. If I was going to have to face Henry's wrath, I'm not about to be sober when I do.

Suddenly, I spotted a striking woman in a beautiful dress. I hadn't seen her in town before. I caught her eye and she smiled and nodded in return. Ah, I always loved those classy women. Too bad she's not a ruffian who was just as likely to don a pair of breeches and take on an adventure now and then...

The service ended and I made a hasty exit out the door before Sir Henry could call me out. I ducked down an alleyway and made my way to the docks. There. I sat down with my bottle and reflected on what to do next.

[Bonnylass]

I stride into the Three Crowns Tavern. I spot the barkeep right away. I feel more at home already. I notice a man noticing me, maybe I have time for a bit of fun.......

"Barkeep! A shot of rum and a pint of ale as a chaser"

[sirhenrymorgan]

Lord Modyford stood to meet Admiral Morgan after there ceremony...

Morgan greeted him briefly, made his apologizes for the brevity and then headed out into the street. He would see Modyford later, at the meeting, he thought. Right now he had something else on his mind.

He scanned the crowd and caught a glimpse of Captain Sterling rounding a corner. He followed briskly, trying to catch up.

As he made his way around the corner, he saw that Captain Sterling had made his way into the Three Crownes.

Entering, he called to the captain.

"Captain Sterling... may I have a word with you, sir?"

[Mark Read]

I left the Church a few steps behind Lady Barbossa, all the time watching Morgan. He seemed to almost brush off Lord Modyford.. interesting... then he rushed out the church doors him self and set a swift course. I assumed from his direction he was on his way back to the Three Crownes. I hoped Lady Barbossa had similar plans, so it could seem that I just happened in there myself, as I escorted her about town. If not, I would have to find another way to keep a closer tab on the Admiral and just what he was up to.

[Winston]

(( I am really enjoying this ))

[Cheeky Actress]

Suddenly, I spotted a striking woman in a beautiful dress. I hadn't seen her in town before. I caught her eye and she smiled and nodded in return. Ah, I always loved those classy women. Too bad she's not a ruffian who was just as likely to don a pair of breeches and take on an adventure now and then...

"Flirting in Church is a sin". Lilly thought to herself as she acknowledged the man in the pew across from her. She closed her eyes for a moment. She knew no one here, yet...was her past going to catch up with her?

When she heard the Church bells rang out, she followed the crowds into the Church for the bereavement ceremony. Such a sorrowful day she thought to herself. She sat quietly in the pew as she looked about the room. She saw Lady B. sitting close to the front of the Chaple. Off to the side she saw Admiral Morgan and Lord Modyford not far from one another.

She was surprised to see Skittles March there. She sat alone and in her best dress, marked with the colors and flair of her native land. Lilly's face suddenly felt flushed. If she was here, then her loving husband would be too...and surly, her Sweet Captain wouldn't be that far behind. But alas, she did not see him anywhere, no Andrew March.

The Church was crowded and too uncomfortable for a day such as this. The air did not move in the church and though the ceremony was respectfully short, she still desired the open air of a courtyard.

After the last prayer was said, she stood in line for her blessing. Her mind drifted and she knew that she had to find lodgings for the month. She had money enough for a nice clean room and meals, but where? She turned back once again towards the alter and knelt quickly for her blessing the young man who caught her eye before winked at her. Her eyes widened. "Amazing" she whispered to herself. "Is there no respect for the dead?"

[Bartholomew Treate]

I sat and looked out at the water. The sun was just settling over the horizon, so the light changed the turquoise into a greenish hue. I never got tired of looking at the water in the tropics. So different from my home back in Southampton.

My parents by now were most likely dead. I had left them in ill health, without no other siblings to care for them. The call of adventure was just too great. Little did I know then what I know know. That adventure can not only have great rewards, but a great cost too.

I took another swig from the bottle. I thought back to the lovely lady in the church. She looked like she had a longing for adventure as much as I. She just chose to hide it behind the lace and petticoats of a lady. I had no taste for such finery, nor a taste for the finer things in life.

I was happy with my station. I was an expert gunner, a stout sailor, and a fair warrior. My land skills were solid, but nothing to compare with my abilities upon the sea.

I thought back to Morgan's words. Hopefully, we would be going on account once again. I could use another share or two such voyages held for those skilled or lucky enough to return. He obviously thought I had been derelict in my duties with my captain. I would have been there, except Captain Bigford was a teetotaler and not one to let drunknness go unpunished. So I just went AWOL a bit against his orders. Of course, the witnesses of this deed were now dead, so my act would go unreported to Morgan.

The sun had now gone down. Evening in Port Royal. The pubs and inns would be doing a steady business tonight. Toasts to the dead. Oaths to the Spanish. Widows to console. And whores to upend. A never ending carnival of entertainment there was here.

I finished my bottle and threw it into the water. I was feeling less pain than before, but I was hardly in my prime. I stumbled to my feet and headed back down Thames. There was more drink to be had and I had more coin to spend on it.

I would wait to see what tonight's meeting would yield with the War Council that I assumed Henry would hold in the aftermath of the Oxford. He would waste no time in seizing upon the moment.

I couldn't really blame him though. He and his bold plans were the one reason why Jamaica was in English hands still and why every attempt to retake my new home had failed miserably for all who tried.

Ah, the Three Crownes is a lively place tonight. I think I shall continue my drinking here this evening.

I walked up to the bar and ordered another bottle of rum. The place was crowded with mourners, opportunists and all walks of life. I took a seat at one of the long tables, just as Admiral Morgan walked in. I didn't take a moment to notice him, for the lady from the service was seated across the room.

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly wandered about Port Royal, after the service. After conversing with one of the more repectable shopkeepers she quickened her pace and made for the Three Crownes. She struggled to get through the mob of all too excited men. What was it about men, she thought. Always ready to rush in to get themselves killed. She rolled her eyes thinking such a waste.

"Good sir, " she began with the older gentleman behind the bar. "I have need of a lady's room for the night and for longer if your accomodations are suitable, which," she hesitated as she looked about the room. "Which I shall put to judgement over the next few days." She turned back and looked up at the gentleman who had moved closer to her.

"A room ye want Mistress?" he repeated, making sure he had heard her correctly above the din.

"Aye, yes, that is correct. And meals as well," Lilly explained further.

"I think I may have one that is free for one such as yerself," he leaned closer to her and whispered. "Ye plan not to carry on any business of yer own in my place do ye?"

Lilly's face hardened. And despite her beauty and softness of appearance, it was clear she was someone to be reckoned with.

"Perhaps I did not hear thee clearly," Lilly said coldly.

The gentleman straightened. "Let me see," he replied and stepped away from her.

Lilly took the chance to survey the packed room. She smiled as she caught the eye of the man who had been so bold as to stare at her during the service. She made herself a promise, if he raised his glass to her, perhaps she would join him for a meal. She sighed then. From the looks of him, she would be the one needing to pay. Still... she continued to survey the crowd. Ah, there was a very tantilzing young major as the main attraction of the moment. Another foolish young fob, she thought... most likely his mind only turns to dreams of glory and honours... and there, she watched a gentleman at the end of the bar. His back was to her. Tall, well build and impecable dressed but already making a conquest of the pretty barmaid...

"Well I do like competition and the Empress has taught me well or I would not be the toast of London Towne, " she said to herself. But before she could make her way to interupt, Sir Henry burst into the pub and made directly to the man she had set her sites on.

Lilly had never been so taken aback in her life as she was when Sir Henry called out "Captain Sterling....may I have a word with you, sir?" and the gentleman and questioned turned to face the approaching Admiral.

"JOHN STERLING!" Lilly snapped and all she could see was red.

[LadyBarbossa]

Watching Morgan quickly dodge folks through the streets of Port Royal making a hasty retreat towards somewhere.

"Curious," she simply stated more to herself.

Without thinking about Read... she followed Morgan from a safe distance but did her best to keep him within her sights.

Until she lost sight of him when turning a corner.

Quickly she trotted up to the corner to gaze around it in time to see Morgan enter the Three Crownes establishment.

"Very curious indeed," again to herself.

She pondered as she slowly made her way from the corner.

"Come," barely glancing at Read, figuring he would follow but didn't have to.

Quickly returning to the docks, to the Resurrection.

"Wait here," she told Read. Then she strode up the gangway onto the ship.

Several minutes later...

A figure in crimson red appeared on the main deck of the Resurrection-

and spoke with Graves a moment,, then came marching down the gangway, her boots thunking the wood with heaviness and intimidation.

The aura about her changed... just slightly. A little of that proper Lady was still there, but a haunting and intimidating air hung about her. Those amber-green eyes were piercing as she locked upon Read.

"Shall we return to the Three Crownes," as a wicked smirk appeared upon her lips.

Making way back to the Three Crownes, standing outside the door, inhaling deeply as she heard the comradery inside... then strode inside.

Spotting several from the Service this evening as she glanced about for a table, Includng the Lady that was a passenger aboard her ship...

A wench strode in front of her and stopped her, giving the girl coins and whispering to the lass. She nodded and moved off.

Nodding to Read a table that was available, "Please sit, Mr Read,"

As she moved to the table and sat down herself.

[Capt. Sterling]

It did not take Sterling much time before the lass with the beautiful green eyes seemed to relax in his company. He looked her over, she was indeed striking for someone of her class. Surely she could move up quickly in London as a courtesan, he thought. And yet, he noticed her eyes would not fix on his for long. Mayhaps it was the scar or then again, perchance it was the young major making such a fuss over Sir Henry's remarks during the church memorial. That was fine with him. Let her give her treasures away for nothing to the man in uniform, Sterling was willing to pay and pay well... now that he had enough. And the more he spoke with the charming Colleen the more she seemed to soften.

And why not? He was tall, slender, well made and despite the marring of his face, he was still someone most of the ladies found very appetizing. And surely only a handful of people here would know he was disinherited, a situation that could always change for the better since Lord William was still very much alive. And unlike the major or any of his ilk, Sterling was well educated, his manners polished, his language refined when he chose it to be, and the Empress had made certain that he visited the very best tailors in all of London.

He paused in thought for a moment, pressing his fingers to his brow. "By all that tis Holy, " he thought to himself. "Perchance Andrew March was right."

Still his other needs far outweighed his discomfort at the moment. Surely it was just the heat?

He placed a gold coin upon the bar top betwixt him and the young lady and waited to see if her eyes would widen. But before she could snatch it up Sterling heard a cheer go out amongst the men in the room. He turned to see Sir Henry enter the Tavern.

"Captain Sterling... may I have a word with you, sir?"

Sterling watched as the crowd of men parted like the Red Sea to make room for the Admiral. They raised their glasses to him, some even daring to pat him on the back as he passed, like old friends instead of the idolizing fools that some of them were.

Sterling brought his hand to his forehead again and then cast a glance at the barmaid. She also seemed to be taken by the likes of Sir Henry Morgan. Yet all Sterling could think of now was the urging in his loins and how to politely tell Sir Henry to bugger off.

Instead, out of habit and a good upbringing, he bit his tongue and turned.... his breath catching in his chest as he felt himself shudder. He blinked as a coldness embraced him.

Surely anything Sir Henry had to say could keep at least until the morning... or at least until he had... he glanced at the barmaid again. With a sigh he pulled his coat tightly about him, the cold now hugging him like a vice. He continued to watch Sir Henry.

"JOHN STERLING!"

He heard the voice come at him from a distance. Surely?!? ..... Lilly ?.... and as Sir Henry finally came alongside the captain, Sterling turned once more, shivering violently, to look about for the fair owner of the voice he knew all too well, then, suddenly, he crumbled and fell to the tavern floor....