Port Royal, Jamaica

[Aurore Devareaux]

The tavern of choice was gained by twist and turn of alley byway. Back entrance was choosen, followed by a table near the hearth. Cider was brought in quick return and Seth reached into the folds of frock, producing a battered pipe and tobacco. Bowl filled and lit, his manner was as if he sat alone at worn plank instead of with companion.

When pipe was finished, the pale eyes turned to regard Sterling closely,

"Now ye gon' tell me wha' that buzziness be abou'?"

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling, his head resting upon arms that lay crossed upon the table top, shifted slightly and opened his eyes now that the other man's smoke was completed. Damnation, he thought, Childremass most likely was purposely sitting on his blind side. He lifted himself from the table top only to slump backwards into the chair but at least now he could see. Childermass pushed the tankard of cider toward the captain, but one sniff and the brew was quickly rejected as Sterling turned up his nose, his stomach churning all too precariously.

"Beg pardon?" Sterling mumbled. His search for a coin quickly produced one. As he placed it on the table and turned to call to one of the wenches, he felt Childermass' hand come down hard on his own.

With a slow shake of his head, Childermass took the coin and placed it before himself.

"I was just getting a pipe as well," Sterling remarked. "Nothing more. Besides, I thought I was the one to be doing all the listening."

[Aurore Devareaux]

"Aye...When'na time comes...But, first I be wantin' ta know what all tha' buzziness was abou'....Though I be thinkin' I might already."

Seth waved to a serving maid, request for pipe was given and she hurried away.

"Stakes be high, boy....Ye may wish ta be considerin' hard where ta lay yer ante an' how ta be playin' yer hand."

He leaned foward, eyeing Sterling sharply, "The buzziness..."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling frowned for a moment, hoping a show of annoyance at the intrusion into his most private affairs, would give him a false sense of bravado. Instead his eyes welled with tears and frown quickly was displaced. He wiped his face with his hands and looked away as the barmaid returned with a once long tavern pipe, now shortened by miscare.

“I cannot marry her,” he said. He drew on the pipe allowing the smoke to soothe him. “I cannot do this to her… I am assured that she will be miserable matched to me.”

[Aurore Devareaux]

"Then ye be a fool, boy...An ye canno' see the lay of the land."

Seth paused to order a tankard of brandy and refill his pipe.

"If ye let her go...It will haunt ye the rest of yer days. I kin say it bien's tha I know. An I can also be tellin' ye...If ye step out of the way, there be another tha'll take yer stead wi'out hesitatin'."

The pipe was drawn deeply and exhauled as steady stream. "You don' know the Rom, nor the markin' of a true love....If Sabastian gave consent, it were only cause he knew tha it would be a wise match."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling sighed.

"By English standards, my father had enough sense to know the makings of a wise match and if I had obeyed I would have spent the rest of my days being unfaithful to my wife!"

He shook his head.

"No, I do not know the ways of the Rom, nor what they believe to be true love... For God's sake, I don't even know if she loves me at all now. Her actions are based on her traditions, not on whether or not she cares for me. And most of the traditions of men, I cannot stomach."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Childermass scowled, "Ye think what she does is abou' rules? Fekk..Ye are a lost one....Ever'thin' tha' lass has done fer ye has broken traditions. Yer an outsider....Unclean an' tainted. I don' know what ye be expectin' as a show of devotion, but ye must no' have a bit ah common sense in yer noggin if ye are so blind to the way she caters to ye. Ye think its' tradition....Tis a good laugh that. If that be yer true thinkin's mayhaps ye should jus hand er o'er to the Frenchie...I can guarantee he'll be knowin' the difference...."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling leaned forward, eyes narrowed as one fist slammed hard against the table top.

"Damnation! Whores cater to anyone if the coin is jingling in their pockets loud enough! I do not wish her to be my slave... God forbid. I wish her to be my wife, my lover, someone I can confide in and who can trust in me as well. Is it a foolish thing to have a woman tell ye she loves you instead of saying I shall do this, that or the other because of tradition...The Way? Is it love to say ye be open with yer husband and yet still ye hide yer true feelings from him? How can I ever help her if she needs me if she is to keep herself shut up some place I am not permitted to go or tells me she is comfortable with a thing for tradition sake?"

[Aurore Devareaux]

Seth drew calmly from the tankard afore him, then shook his head slowly as it was set aside.

"They are no' a confrontational people by nature. No' ta say that they are wi'out backbone, mind. But....Have ye ever asked the lass abou' any of this? I be one to wager high ye have no'..."

He signaled for another brandy then leaned forward to elbow support.

[Ransom]

"Inspection could be done this eve....But give me reason to trust you in regarding passage to and from the vessel in question...to give you such advantage over mine well being is rather fool hardy, would you not agree?"

Sabastian regained his feet, measuring her visually once again," How shall we strike a bargin of trust in this situation?" The impish smile returned, "How shall we seal the deal of good faith, eh Mademoisselle?"

I gave him a wicked grin in return. "And how should I trust you? You could report me to said authorities, collect a fine reward, and leave me to my fate. All I can say is, I am the Captain of the Rakehell. If I say you will be safe, then you will be. Can you promise the same? Can you guarentee that you or your people will not garrot me in the nearest ally and take what is not yours?"

I gave him in return the mock bow he had offered me at the outset. "Do not underestimate me, Mr. Devareaux. It would be a mistake. Let us be honest, if nothing else. Trust is something we must both earn. I offer you safe passage to my ship. What can you offer me?"

[Aurore Devareaux]

I gave him a wicked grin in return. "And how should I trust you? You could report me to said authorities, collect a fine reward, and leave me to my fate. All I can say is, I am the Captain of the Rakehell. If I say you will be safe, then you will be. Can you promise the same? Can you guarentee that you or your people will not garrot me in the nearest ally and take what is not yours?"

I gave him in return the mock bow he had offered me at the outset. "Do not underestimate me, Mr. Devareaux. It would be a mistake. Let us be honest, if nothing else. Trust is something we must both earn. I offer you safe passage to my ship. What can you offer me?"

"Mademoisselle...Capitaine....You wound me to the quick, non? Do you think me some petty thief who slinks through the night and pounces on innocent passers-by? You think that I would run to Modyford like some starved hound after a bit of table scrap for reward?"

Sabastian turned and started for the rear corridor.

"Then perhaps it is I, that is truly being underestimated. Au revoire, ma petit."

[Ransom]

I grinned at his dramatic exit. "No, Sir. I imply nothing. I have already placed myself at your mercy by revealing what I have to offer. Should I walk away, you could still do me damage. It is you, sir, who have the upper hand. Let us be good business partners, and see what we shall see?"

[Capt. Sterling]

Seth drew calmly from the tankard afore him, then shook his head slowly as it was set aside.

"They are no' a confrontational people by nature. No' ta say that they are wi'out backbone, mind. But....Have ye ever asked the lass abou' any of this? I be one to wager high ye have no'..."

He signaled for another brandy then leaned forward to elbow support.

"Then ye would lose said wager... " He sat back once again, shoulders crumbling slightly inward.

"Yer traditions say I am the unclean, worthless one. The one who hates and destroys, and yet ye sit and mock me because yer traditions say that I am an object to be taken advantage of and ridiculed. I can take your gibes, God knows I have acted like a Bedlam inmate, since I set foot amongst yer tribe, and deserve them. But ye do not truly know me and would not be willing to give me a second chance because of yer traditions if it were not for what has passed. And it is these very same traditions that she now conceals herself beind...how can I ever make her happy when she continues to do so? At least with Lambert she would have a better chance of being content."

[Aurore Devareaux]

**

[Aurore Devareaux]

"They are no' a confrontational people by nature. No' ta say that they are wi'out backbone, mind. But....Have ye ever asked the lass abou' any of this? I be one to wager high ye have no'..."

He signaled for another brandy then leaned forward to elbow support.

****************************************

"Then ye would lose said wager... " He sat back once again, shoulders crumbling slightly inward.

"Yer traditions say I am the unclean, worthless one. The one who hates and destroys, and yet ye sit and mock me because yer traditions say that I am an object to be taken advantage of and ridiculed. I can take your gibes, God knows I have acted like a Bedlam inmate, since I set foot amongst yer tribe, and deserve them. But ye do not truly know me and would not be willing to give me a second chance because of yer traditions if it were not for what has passed. And it is these very same traditions that she now conceals herself beind...how can I ever make her happy when she continues to do so? At least with Lambert she would have a better chance of being content."

Seth eyed him speculatively, "So wha' ye be sayin' is that ye have asked the lass an' din'no' get an answer? An' mind ye...Ain' my dictates...I be as English as yerself. It only be the Three of true blood....the whole lot of us be ou'siders in truth. Even Christophe be tainted...."

He took a deep pull of the tankard and sat quietly for a momment. "If ye have truly asked the girl an' she didno' answer....Then I canno' say anythin' other than wha' I have seen. But....If it be that easy to let her go...I be assurin' ye, tha' ye will curse the day as the years go by."

[Aurore Devareaux]

I grinned at his dramatic exit. "No, Sir. I imply nothing. I have already placed myself at your mercy by revealing what I have to offer. Should I walk away, you could still do me damage. It is you, sir, who have the upper hand. Let us be good business partners, and see what we shall see?"

Sabastian paused as he neared the arched entrance to corridor beyond. The mischievous smirk played over his features with challenge as he extended a hand at arm's length in her direction.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Did not answer? She told me she would never hide her feelings from me again," he responded, his eyes filling once more. "My God, if she cannot talk with me now, how will she ever? Bloody hell, she told me she would stand by my side because Bloody Tradition said she must, when I asked her to sail with me and yet any fool could see she was terrified by the prospect of leaving dry land," he shouted. He paused, trying to calm himself as heads turned uninvited to witness his outburst. He raked his fingers through the blond locks that hung untidely about his face.

"Why could she not just tell me she was too afraid?" he whispered. "Did she think I would cast her adrift a million miles from home?"

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Ioan and Lieutenant Lauritzsen crossed paths in the cabin entry as Ioan departed. By the scowl on his face, Jane guessed he didn’t enjoy taking orders from a woman. She huffed in annoyance. Did he really think she’d have any better luck with the crew? The Welshman’s pompous attitude was beginning to eclipse his usefulness. Still with Striker bordering on comatose, she was glad to have someone around who understood her, even if they chose not to listen.

With a bob of his head the crewman offered Jane the freshly filled pitcher. She took it in both hands, smiling by way of thank you. He smiled back, bowing in a formal manor that made her uncomfortable. The Dane quietly stepped to Striker’s side, muttering in Danish to soft for her to hear even if she could understand him. Jane’s attention moved to Striker’s discarded coat. Slender fingers searched the pockets, closing around a battered tin of tobacco. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do. In a single gulp Jane emptied the remaining watered wine from one of the morning’s mugs. She added a large pinch of the tinned tobacco to the empty vessel, topping it with the fresh liquid. Leaving the make-shift tea to brew, she centered on Ioan’s cast off shirt. It was a quick matter to tear the fabric into several strips. As she worked, Lauritzsen rose from his vigil at Striker’s side, quietly slipping out of the chamber.

Alone with only the heavy breathing of the prone captain, Jane let out a panicked whimper. She settled herself heavily into the hard side chair. Two shaking hands clasped over her jade eyes as she folded into herself, the fear settled around her. She had no idea what she was doing. Suddenly all the bits and pieces of information, all the “jumble” as Joseph had called it, seemed useless. She wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and sleep a heavy dreamless sleep. The hot sting of tears was wiped way anxiously as muted footsteps approached. The emotional flood stifled with a breath as Jane stood, facing Ioan as he returned to the quiet space.

[Aurore Devareaux]

"Did not answer? She told me she would never hide her feelings from me again," he responded, his eyes filling once more. "My God, if she cannot talk with me now, how will she ever? Bloody hell, she told me she would stand by my side because Bloody Tradition said she must, when I asked her to sail with me and yet any fool could see she was terrified by the prospect of leaving dry land," he shouted. He paused, trying to calm himself as heads turned uninvited to witness his outburst. He raked his fingers through the blond locks that hung untidely about his face.

"Why could she not just tell me she was too afraid?" he whispered. "Did she think I would cast her adrift a million miles from home?"

Seth steepled his fingers, nodding sagely.

"All three of 'em are terrified of open water. An' do ye think Sabastian would admit as much?" He chortled ironicly, "No....Do you think tha' she would say as much when the sea is a second home to ye....To risk disapointment from ye? Doncha see...Tis proof of her love fer ye tha' she is willin' to stand against her fear to be near ye. An' why did ye no' ask her if it was somethin' tha' scared her so? Yer judgin' the girl harsh."

[Capt. Sterling]

"I need her to talk to me tis all I'm asking of her. Tell me how she feels so I can help her if I can," he said. "Do ye think I wish to cause her harm because she says one thing and feels the opposite? What if I cannot tell the difference?"

[Aurore Devareaux]

"Then mayhaps, that be what ye needs be tellin' her instead of meself..."

Seth finished off tankard content and stood slowly.

" The span of a life be a long thin' to be endurin' full of regrets."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling's head lifted, if only to follow the path of upward movement. He gave a brief nod of his head confirming understanding. He stood as well.

"Thank ye," he whispered, the weariness in his form apparent now in his speech. Tavern pipe was left on table as he left the inn, the way he had entered, through the back door. He stood several minutes as the rain fell heavily now about him. His face tilted heaveward, its cold droplets cleansing the grime from his person. He waited, this time Childermass was no where to be seen. With a deep breath he began his return. Heart racing to near bursting as he made his way to the back door of the Booksellers and knocked.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Devon and Calico had happily taken over the legnth of deserted divan. Things were calm with the day leaving the time of dusk in favor of evening. The soft pop and crackle of near hearth lulled companions into half sleep, steadily taking greater hold until abruptly uprooted by determined knock.

Startled feline launched from Devon's chest, claws giving extra traction and causing a string of colorful words to be announced loudly. Irritated, the Irishman went to the door, palming concealed blade and threw back the bolts. The door gave minute protest to opening, swolen slightly with the damp, but gave way with ernest tug to reveal hailer.

[Capt. Sterling]

"Please I must speak with Madamoseille," Sterling said. "Tell her it is urgent."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Devon frowned, rubbing the spot affected by calico take off. Moving back, he allowed Sterling entrance then re-secured the door. With a "follow me" gesture, the Irishman passed through the chamber then up the stairwell. Two doors were passed, the third stopped in front of. Devon nodded towards destination then moved to the side, waiting.