Port Royal, Jamaica

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling stood still a moment, her words settling and taking their place amongst his thoughts. "I understand. What's done is done," he said quietly. "Tell me what ye wish to do. Surely the others are worried about ye." He looked at Childermass and gave a slight nod of his head. "Tis all right," he sighed, then looked to Aurore. "Come to me Chere."

[Aurore Devareaux]

With finite scrutiny, she judged Sterling's posture and the tone of his words; considering his request with rapid deductions then moved into proximity of where he stood. Childermass had relaxed stance, but she was well aware that said appearance was very much the farce. Saying nothing, Aurore searched Sterling's expression, awaiting his reasoning for closer summons.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling looked at her, his gaze softening as a weariness overtook his visage. He held out his arms to her and took a step closer to her. "I continue to make a muddle out of everything," he whispered.

[Aurore Devareaux]

She took a tenative step closer, watching the evolution of his carriage take place, "Please do not condemn Sabastian for his actions or judgements. He does so to assure my happiness and shall pay greatly for doing so...."

[Capt. Sterling]

"No Chere, I will not do so. Tis not his fault, tis mine," Sterling said, his tone sounding as tired as he now looked. "I have caused more damage than the storm it seems. I wish to go home, " he whispered. "But will do as ye ask me."

[Aurore Devareaux]

"Then I ask you to follow your heart. If it is home that you wish, I will not stand in your way of doing so. I will never make demands or request boons taxing to your happiness."

Aurore's peripheral caught the cautious approach of Devon and Charge.

"I shall abide with what you desire...."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling lowered his arms, then quietly made his way over to the stable caretaker yet again. Carriage and horse were quickly exchanged for two mounts, one especially of the most docile nature. As coin passed hands, Sterling beckoned for Meagan to come to him and he helped her onto the quieter of the two creatures. A leather lead was attached to bit for him to hold as he promised he would walk besides the young child. He waited for Aurore to mount the second animal.

[Aurore Devareaux]

She admired his attentiveness to the small girl, Sterling's compassion and acceptance of one with no connection to himself drew a hinted smile to her lips. Moving within close proximity of Burke and Childermass, quick conversation was made; deductions aired and conclusions drawn. Neither man wished to leave the small party unescorted; Seth did not wish for Devon to return with report without re-enforcement. A storm was brewing within La Cour, one that might equal the tempest that just passed.

Voices were kept low as opinions rounded the Trio then finally fell to silence. Seth drew near where Sterling held equine in check,

"Tis not wise that ye travel the area alone...Not now. Tis a risky proposition, as ye may well be figuring. I think it not wise to travel back with us in the currents of present, either...."

Reptillian gaze guaged Sterling closely, " Devon is going to retrive one o' the others to ride with ye. One tha' might no' be so readily missed, but would keep ye in safe company."

[Capt. Sterling]

"As ye wish," Sterling replied. He did not desire to explain he was already armed, it was easier to do as he was told and except the guard that was placed over him. He forced himself to look up at Meagan and smile, then wink. "We shall be home soon enough," he said, then lowered his eyes. "How much longer must we wait?" he asked quietly.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Lucien Debois wasted no time when called forth from those making inventory of damage sustained. The building had stood well against the onslaught; holding true as it had many times over in the past. In the three years that he had called Jamaica home, the return of tropical storm temperment still left him unsettled. Never had such ferocity washed over his native La Rochelle and in times such as these rencently passed, he oft times desired land of origin.

Quiet by nature, and even more so due to his smallish grasp of English tongue, Lucien had gained comfort within the ranks of La Cour's siren lure. Calm bearing and intuitive reflex gained respect of his peers, his accuracy with shot and steel even more so.

Favored mount was procured, debrise and wreckage becoming a game of speed and horsemanship as he raced to livery with breakneck pacing; slowing only when livery lane was rounded.

[Capt. Sterling]

Well enough, he thought. Once again his question had gone unanswered. He felt quite transparent. Might as well be back in Algiers he thought to himself. He moved forward, slight tug on lead brought Meagan's horse into step along side.

"Does thee know the way?" he asked the child as they exited the stables. "I have only traveled it twice, but I think I shall manage, but just in case," he added giving her one more smile. He walked on, knowing whom ever had been chosen to shadow them would soon catch up.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Lucien brought mount to canter, doffing wide brimmed chapeau with a smile cast to Meagan as he passed, "Bonjour, une Petit..."

Youngster giggled then glanced quickly to Sterling. Rider and mount came to halt near Childermass, words were exchanged briefly then Lucien closed distance with small party turning lane end.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling continued on, debating the length of time the walk would require and whether or not he should remove and carry his shoes and stockings. Both would be destroyed once he left the questionable comfort of cobbled streets and although walking in heeled shoes was something he had grown accustomed to, it was not something he preferred for long hikes. But then neither was the prospect of having one's toes tread upon accidently by a rather large horse a welcomed notion either. He would take his chances and he bent down to remove garters, and garments, rolled what he could and banished them to pockets as shoes were grasped in bad hand. He moved on, Meagan and mount trudging along patiently behind him. The coldness of puddles on slick stones was barely noticed as heavily scarred feet and legs, waded through the muck and mire of late storm. The mud might actually feel well enough and he welcomed the time when port town would turn to grassy fields and dirt roads.

"We shall be home soon enough," he remarked a loud and wondered for whose comfort he had said it this time.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore followed slowly behind Husband and Youngster, brow creased with concern at the former's choice of travel. If it had been Sabastian in his place, no thought would enter her mind, for brother had grown up taversing many a mile at vardo side...Andre' continued to do so in accompniment of cargo laden wagons, by choice. But Jean was not Romani, and she did not wish him undue angst with choice a gallantry.

These were the things that rattled her mental chambers as she watched on and newest party member drew up alongside. Greetings were exchanged and the odd expression worn by Frenchman when looking upon Sterling did not go un-noted.

Lucien spured mount forward, nodding to Sterling as pace was slowed to match Meagan's. He spoke quietly to the young girl then waited as she, in turn, addressed her Keeper.

"Lucien offers that I double with him and allow you to ride, Sir."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling halted and looked back at the girl. "And what would thee prefer, Little Mistress?" he asked. "For the walk would do me good. Surely I put in more distance pacing mine quarterdeck in a morning's watch then twill encounter to the house, but thy wish is my command. I shall be a good servant and do as ye desire."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Meagan's cherubic face squinched in concentration momentarily, then she reached one tiny hand towards Sterling to bring him nearer.

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling submitted to her bidding and moved closer to the child. He glanced up at her, his good eye fixed on her face. "Aye Little Mistress, what do ye wish of me?" he asked.

[Aurore Devareaux]

Her founded cheeks bloomed carnation hue as she leaned in the saddle, gaining Sterling's hearing only.

" I want to ride with you...Please, Sir."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling's expression immediately fell. He lowered his eyes a moment before he dared look the child in the face again. "Tis sorry I am," he began in a whisper. "But I am afeared that if something went amiss I could not protect thee with my arm and back as it tis of the moment. It is best that I walk along side thee. When I am better I shall take thee riding, I promise. For now, I must confess I am a wicked servant and I ask that thee would forgive me for letting thee down even when thee did ask so prettily."

[Aurore Devareaux]

She nodded in adult-like fashion of understanding, then offered a smile. Aurore closed the meager distance that lay between, aligning with the others.

"Please, Jean...Allow me to take Megean so that you may ride. It is too far to travel afoot in these conditions."

[Capt. Sterling]

Sterling looked up at Aurore and could only nod in reply. He turned back to Meagan.

"Thou didst hear our mistress, did thee not? Boarders away then!" he said as he made sure the transfer was carefully concluded. Neglecting stockings, he slipped bare feet back into buckled shoes and walked Meagan's horse over to a pile of debris, which he climbed, in order to mount without any human assistance other than his own. Once in the saddle, he fell in behind the others. He felt no inclination to encourage the beast to keep up, after all the idea had been to obtain something with which Meagan would be comfortable. So he allowed the creature to plod along at its own pace. He now concluded it would take forever to reach their destination and although he tried to smile as the young girl peeked back at him, he now found it utterly impossible.

Mayhaps Lilly McKinney had been right. Aurore certainly was beginning to make him feel as old as Lilly had made him sound...

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

Lady Violet Cunningham stood at the rail amidship on the Sweet Temptation, the brig - owned by her husband, Lord Sir Albert Cunningham - which had carried her across the Atlantic from England. The lady's figure and fulsome bosom greatly resembled the female figurehead gracing the prow of the brig, and Lady Violet had always thought the Italian carpenter had captured her likeness quite acuratly.

She was to reunite with her husband, who had sailed to Jamiaca two months ahead of her on the Sweet Temptation's sister ship, the Sweet Violet, in order to assure that their plantation house, Trade Winds, would be suitably prepared for her arrival. It was their usual practice to visit Trade Winds every three or four years, to make sure the sugar plantation was running smoothly. Mr. Kennedy, the plantation manager, would meet her at the docks.

She waited patiently while the ship was secured. Protecting her rather flushed face was a raffia sun hat whose brim was the circumferance of a wagon wheel, and whose crown was adorned with a garden in silk. In the crook of her arm, and pressed to her chest, was a small white lap dog who panted frantically in the heat, and whose pink tongue dripped saliva onto its mistress's silk sleeve. The dog's name was Sugar, which put name and temperment at odds. Standing behind Lady Cunningham was a train of three - two maids, Bess and Kitty, and Timmon, a servant boy. All three were laden with portmanteaus, band-boxes, cosmetic cases, and dog treats. The rest of her acroutremont would follow in a wagon.

"Oh look, Children," Lady Violet said with excitment, "there's Mr. Kennedy. Woo hoo, Mr. Kennedy!" She waved a pudgy gloved hand at a man on the pier.

Behind her, the Captain of the Sweet Temptation approached and bowed. "Your chair is ready, My Lady."

"Thank-you, sir. Such a lovely voyage," Lady Violet purred, then let the captain escort her.

There was no bosun's chair, which Lady Violet thought far too flimsy and precarious for her use. Rigged in its place was a stout cane chair affixed to a sling. The Captain assisted Lady Violet into the chair, which was padded with cushions, waited for her to settle her skirts, then signaled to the waiting sailors. With squeek of rope and pully, Lady Cunningham was slowly lowered to the pier, where Mr. Kennedy politely took her hand and hoisted her from the seat.

"I hope you had a pleasant voyage, My Lady. Your poor husband has been in transports of worry since the hurricane, thinking he might have lost you."

Lady Cunningham's haunty brows rose. "That bit of a storm? Nonsense. Why, you know perfectly well, Mr. Kennedy, that I posess an iron constitution. It would take more than a mere trifle like a hurricane to upset me. Now, where is the carriage?"

"I regret to say, My Lady, that, due to the storm, the roads are quite impassable. I barely made in by horseback. Rooms have been reserved for you in town at The Royal Grace Inn until Lord Cunningham can send the coach in safety."

"Oh, I beg you, not the Royal. It's such a dreary place. Can't we stay somewhere more exciting? Say, the Three Crowns or The Shipp? Yes, The Shipp I think. It's so wonderfully sordid."

She observed Mr. Kennedy's face blanch. "Oh, no, My Lady. I couldn't possibly allow such a thing. Besides, the Three Crowns is full with those stranded by the storm, and I do NOT regret to say that The Shipp burned to the ground four days ago."

"Oh? What a pity."

As they talked, the two maids and servant had been lowered from the deck of the Sweet Temptation, along with all of Lady Cunningham's bagage. Once again, the three had taken up possition behind her.

Her wide expanse of lace-covered bosom rose and fell with a sigh. "Come, Children, we are to follow Mr. Kennedy to the horridly boring Royal Grace Inn, where we will be staying unitl my dear husband can send the coach from Trade Winds."

With an imperial wave of her chubby arm, she turned to the plantation manager. "Lead on, Mr. Kennedy, lead on."

[Capt. Sterling]

They had traveled only a few streets along before the mount Sterling had taken over had already fallen far behind.

Brilliant, he thought sourly as the others continued on ahead, lost in conversation amongst themselves, Meagan the only one to occasionally glance behind to see if he was keeping up. Sterling merely shook his head and rummaged in his pocket searching for his pouch of tobacco. Encountering his shed stockings first, he drew them forth, swung one leg up over the horse’s bowed neck and as the creature clip-clopped along at its steady but deathly slow pace, the captain proceeded to redress himself, a task that was far too easy thanks to his lack luster mount. He presented a slightly better picture then as he decided to turn about and make yet one more exchange at the stables.

For the moment it felt good to be on his own again, for as far as he could tell, he was at last free from the ever watchful eyes of some member or another of Le Cour's clan. Not that he was not thankful for their help, but being coddled to death was not the way he had ever envisioned his passing.

He gave the old horse an encouraging squeeze and it broke into a trot for all of three steps before it slowed once more to its steady trudging. Sterling rolled his eyes and quickly dismounted, leading the animal seemed far more quicker than anything else and far less embarrassing.

The stable owner could only smirk as Meagan’s ride was lead back in and spirited chestnut from previous jaunt about the countryside was brought out to be saddled instead.

“He’s not had a run about in several days,” the owner explained as chestnut refused to stand still for tacking. "As a matter of fact, ye were the last one to ride him I believe."

“All the better,” Sterling said, finally a grin returning to his face.

An extra coin was turned over and assistance this time was thought required. As leg up was attempted, the captain tried to mount a creature that would not consider standing his ground long enough but pivoted instead, in tiny circles encompassing rider and groom.

“Belay that!” Sterling finally barked, not at horse but at useless groom. “And stand aside,” he added as far rein was rapidly shortened, toe brought to stirrup and body was sent upward of its own strength. Right leg smoothed over creature’s back and Sterling cautiously brought weight downward onto thighs before gently lowering seat onto saddle. Chestnut paused a moment, long enough for rider to grab a hold of good beaver hat, then rocked back onto haunches before launching itself forward and galloping from stable yard.

With broad smile, Sterling ran the animal along the dockside, where the ground was packed hard from the constant passage of foot, wagon and carriage over the years. There, mud was of little concern and due to the storm, the normal day's routine had come to standstill. Only piles of rubbish, scattered about, put up any kind of deterrence, but these were easily skirted or leapt over. The Chestnut was indeed a remarkable jumper, so much so that when an empty sedan chair presented itself on its way to pick up a lady who had just disembarked from a merchant ship, it too was taken in stride.

[Ransom]

When I finally woke, groggy and starving, I slipped from my hammock and went up on deck. Jimmy Cox was standing at the rail, a thin fishing line dropped over the side. Tunny, standing next to him, was also fishing. In a bucket at their feet wriggled a half dozen silver fish, which Africa was in the process of gutting and cleaning.

When the big man saw me, he grinned. "No need fo dat Goose today. I grill these up pretty, an we eat like kings."

The thought of fresh-grilled fish nearly made me faint. Looking at the three, I felt a great deal of pride. "You all did spendid during the storm. When the fish is ready, break out one of those small casks of Port, and we'll celebrate surviving the hurricane."

I was given a round of huzzahs by all three.

"Has anyone checked the ship lately?" The Rakehell had canted around with the outgoing tide.

Africa stood. "The bottom be naught but sand. The anchor want ta drag a bit."

I looked toward the deserted, wild-looking shore. "Well, don't let her drift too far. The current looks to be pulling us south, toward that finger of land." I pointed to a spit of sand and a few palms. "If she pulls the anchor loose, we'll have to haul it up quick and turn her about."

"I keep an eye on it, Captain." Africa replied, then went back to gutting the fish, but I trusted him to keep the ship safe.

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

With broad smile, Sterling ran the animal along the dockside, where the ground was packed hard from the constant passage of foot, wagon and carriage over the years. There, mud was of little concern and due to the storm, the normal day's routine had come to standstill. Only piles of rubbish, scattered about, put up any kind of deterrence, but these were easily skirted or leapt over. The Chestnut was indeed a remarkable jumper, so much so that when an empty sedan chair presented itself on its way to pick up a lady who had just disembarked from a merchant ship, it too was taken in stride.

The little cavalcade marched briskly to the end of the dock, where it came to a sudden halt as Lady Violet caught her first glimse of the condition of the street.

She turned a steely-gray eye upon the plantation manager, and addressed him in a voice calculated to turn her servant's knees to jelly. "Mr. Kennedy. Surely you do not expect me to traverse that," gesturing at the steaming mud.

Mr. Kennedy straightened his shoulders. "Of course not, My Lady. I have ordered a chair for your conveyance to the hotel. It is just—" As he pointed to the ordered mode of transport, it was leapt over by a man on horseback.

"Who is that rash gentleman?" Lady Violet demanded, as horse and rider continued past them in what she considered to be a foolishly dangerous canter.

"I have no idea, My Lady." Mr. Kennedy replied with a sniff. "The town is always full of rash gentlemen. I suspect he is intoxicated."

At that moment Lady Violet's lap dog, Sugar, began to bark, quite viciously for her size, at the approaching sedan chair bearers.

"Now, now, Sugar, my sweeting, let the nice men bring Mother a chair," Lady Violet cooed.

Fortunately for Mr. Kennedy, Lady Violet did not see the roll of his eyes toward heaven.