Port Royal, Jamaica

[Aurore Devareaux]

She glanced away from him just long enough to silently comunicate a need for privacy to the two other men hanging in the wings. Daint hand lay soft caress to Husband's brow followed by brush of lips.

"Please relax, Sucre'...There is no more need for worries. Sabastian is waiting out on the quay and I will send word to him that I am staying here to attend. Sleep is what you need and I shall not leave your side. Je t'amie..."

[Capt. Sterling]

"There is something I must tell you Chere. It will not please ye. I am not fit to be yer husband," he whispered. "I have done ye wrong already."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Aurore's expression gained a neutral hue as the dark pools focused and traped his own. " I have great doubt of such. But, if you feel that transgression has occured, than mayhaps you might relay it and allow me to judge its' validity."

Small hand found his larger one, sliding into comfortable folds and giving comfort pressure.

[Capt. Sterling]

Look was given and other men, altough reluctantly, made way to wait outside on deck.

Sterling listened as key was turned in the lock, again his own prisoner. And yet he knew they meant well. Grip tightened about small fingers without thought as he arranged his thoughts. He did not know where or how to begin and like any ordinary guilty fool felt compelled to launch in head first.

"I woke up," he paused trying to reckon exactly how long it had been since he had made his mistake. "Last night... I put Meagan to bed and went back to town for a drink. One drink turned into another and I found myself waking up with... " he went quiet. "I woke up in Mistress McKinney's bed.... but she said nothing happened. Oh God, Chere I cannot remember if what she says is true or not."

[Aurore Devareaux]

A small flicker played aqueous sights then quelled. When the soft touch of French stroked words sounded to hearing, it was with a calm sooth much reflecting Brother's manner of smokey tone.

"In your heart lays the answer and it is there that you have to delve..."

Aurore remained in the same posturing as afore husband's confession, no call to arms ruffled her manner, just calm regard; a raptor's focus of finite intention.

[Capt. Sterling]

"I love you Chere," he whispered. "I want to make it right between us but I no longer seem to know how."

[Aurore Devareaux]

She studied Sterling's features, gauging the weight of his words and found no flaw. Leaning forward, gentle kiss was placed on fever chapped lips, then she retreated.

"Then perhaps it is best that you rest and once your strength is regained, we may fill in the grays betwixt black and white..."

[Capt. Sterling]

Gentle squeeze was given to her hand. He wished nothing more than to hold her and be held. He had never felt so uncertain of himself and so very weary. "I am so very sorry to have done this to ye," he whispered. "Perhaps in a day or two I will be deemed fit enough to return home for a bit. I am so very tired Chere." He shifted slightly and looked up at her, his gaze steady. "I shall not keep ye here any longer than ye must. I know ye are not comfortable. If ye wish to call in Mr. March he will see ye safely back to yer brother."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Deep intake of air was drawn then slowly let passage in reverse. Fine jaw line became rigid as thoughts danced her mind in slow pirouette.

"Non....I shall remain here for here is at your side and the place I long to be. Word can be sent to 'Bastian and he will relinquish vigil along with the others."

[Capt. Sterling]

Weakened hand raised, allowing fingertips to linger on soft cheek of beloved. "Are ye certain?" he asked and yet he knew already the answer to his question. He settled back, eyes half closed with need of sleep and polluted from doctor's drugs. "Thank ye Habibi. Ask what ye need. Symms will tend to ye, whatever ye wish."

[Aurore Devareaux]

"Then I require nothing of him for what I need is you and you are here..." The verbose orchestrated smoke wisp smooth, an intended lullaby to sooth his senses.

"Please try to rest and give no concern of me, I shall tend to myself."

Again, brush of lips christened husband's brow.

[Capt. Sterling]

He closed his eyes as she kissed him and found himself to be content for the moment. He found he could not open them again when he tried. "I am tired Chere," he repeated again without thought then quickly gave into the slumber he had tried so hard to fight.

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Don't take liberties, missy.

“Blasted! Liberties? Ye arrogant,” Jane hissed in annoyance, her temper boiling.

She rubbed her wrist where Ioan had grabbed her, glaring back at him. She wanted nothing more than to hit him & be done with it. Maybe a good clobbering would knock the attitude right out of him. Teeth ground tightly together as Jane tried to calm her anger, slow breath drawn through her tight jaw. Green eyes fluttered closed as she exhaled, shoulders dropping in resignation. She knew a wall when she saw one, and there was no sense in trying to push against it. She’d have the final say with the brash Welshman, given enough time and patience.

“Fine then. Jest keep quiet. I don’t need ye makin’ this any worse than already is.”

With that Jane spun around, slipping silently through the back rooms of the tavern to the main hall, Ioan at her heels.

[Ransom]

Ioan laughed, enjoying her exasperation. She was so easy to fluster, he did it more as a game than out of any real malice. If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he liked her. Not in any amourous way, she wasn't his type, but he liked her spunk. Besides, she only had eyes for Captain Striker, and Ioan wanted no trouble there.

He followed her, wondering just what in blazes she was looking for.

[CrazyCholeBlack]

Jane paused in the doorway just outside the main room of the battered tavern. The space was eerily quiet despite the late hour. A heavy table lay propped near the front door but there were no other signs of damage. The few remaining sailors from the Anna, dozed in their chairs, sleeping off the drink and excitement of the days prior. Several others gathered in a corner, swapping tales of the storm in tired but no less excited voices.

Searching the room, Jane spotted the familiar curled lump of Adam Westing, her mate aboard the merchantman. The boy sat hunched in a stiff backed chair, his cheek pressed against his own knee as he slept. Jane smiled slightly, relieved to see that the boy had made it through the storm no worse for wear. She had always had a soft spot for him. Perhaps it was his cheerful nature aboard the dismal ship, or perhaps he simply reminded her of the son she had lost. With deliberately soft steps she entered the room, crossing through the shadows to where the lad slumbered.

“Westing, Oi, Westing.” She whispered, shaking the boy’s shoulder as she dropped into a crouch at his side.

“Mr. Chole?” The boy stirred in his chair; curl covered head rising to meet hers. Pink wrinkles from his torn slops were impressed on his cheeks. “Wot’s this now sir? Tha men said ye went off wif some dandy jest afor tha blow.”

“Shh, don’t bother wif tha now lad.” She interrupted his questions with a hiss and a shake of her head. “Listen, tha Anna’s gone ta tha deep by all accounts. Ye’ll come wif me, right, ta La Maligna. ‘Er captains a good n’ fair man, nuthin like ‘ol Fulton. They’ll be needin tha ‘ands while she’s in tha yards n when she’s under sail agen. Ye’ll ‘ave plenty a work n a full belly fer once too.” She nodded at him, seeing his eyes light at the mere thought of a full meal. “But no more o that “Mr. Chole”. Tis Jane aye. Tha rest ye’ll hear in due time.”

“Aye sir, err, Jane?” Westing furrowed his brow, obviously trying to make sense of what little he did know but wise enough not to ask.

“Thars a lad.” Jane smiled, patting the boy on the back of his rail thin shoulder as she stood.

He nodded back at her as he stretched his thin legs to the floor, the furrow still creasing his brow. Without another word the pair slipped through the quiet room towards the back door. They were only a few steps from the exit when a booming voice echoed over their heads, startling several of the sailors out of their sleep and freezing Jane in her steps.

“’Ello now! Ef tisnt tha wanderin Chippy! Tryn ta slip out unbeknownst eh lad? Oh, naw, ye got tired o tha little game didnja?”

[Ransom]

With more than a little curiosity, Ioan watched her pick her way among the prone bodies, until she stopped by the side of a young lad. He heard her whisper something to the boy, then watched as he made to follow her from the inn.

Then a loud voiced boomed from overhead, and Jane froze in her tracks. Ioan tensed, ready to pull knife or pistol, if needed. He grabbed Jane by the arm. "Who the hell is that?"

[Cheeky Actress]

"I suppose a good hagis is out of the question," he said with a sigh.  "Mutton as well for me" he stated to the serving maid "and a small bit for me mate" he added pointing to the little dog.

He lifted his glass to his lips as he turned back to Ms. McKinney, listening to her story,  "me ears are all yers, madam."

Lilly spun her tale during their dinner and their nightcap. The hour soon grew late into the evening. She placed down her glass and looked at the Captain cross from her. “There…my tale, for such as it is. Now I wait to see my son and hope that I shall again fall into favor with the good Captain Sterling.” She felt the small dog stir once again at her feet. As she lent down and picked him up into her lap, she saw the Captain look a bit forlorn at the telling of her tale.

"I am sorry that I have kept you from your duties, Captain." She said with a slight frown. "The hour is late and I am sure that you have much business to attend to."

[Dan Reid]

Stirring as if from a dream he replied, "aye, tis gettin' a bit late. I best be returnin to the Reaver. The lads will be wonderin' what has kept me. Me dear lady, 's been a pleasure ta share a meal and a tale wit' ye. I do hope ye th' best in yer adventures. I 'ave no wee bairns of me own so I ken only imagine what 'twoud be like ta be parted from 'em. This cap'n Sterlin' sounds like a right sound fellow. I be sure he be gettin' ye there safe and sound and in right high spirits ta boot. If'n meself or th' crew o' the Reiver ken be of any service ye have but ta ask."

Turning to the tapster "Master Tapster, I be needin' a keg o' rum delivered ta' me lads down th' beach. Have it delivered if ye please."

MacCraige dropped a handful of guineas on the bar to cover the cost of the keg and their meal. Turning back to Miss Lilly he took her hand and softly brushed it with his lips.

"Farewell, madam, 'tis been a pleasure" whistling to the little dog he turned and sauntered off into the night headed back toward the beach and his poor wrecked ship.

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly smiled at Captain MacCraige then curtsied low as he set off towards the door. "God keep you Captain MacGraige." He paused for a moment before he existed the Inn, then quickly picked up his step when his little dog followed up long side him.

The telling of her tale brought forth many memories of happier times. She looked back over at the Bar Keep as he cleaned the top of the run and ale soaked bar. "Has any word come from the Archangle for me? A letter, mayhap?" The Bar Keep just shook his head no.

With a sigh Mistress Lilly turned toward the stairs. "I shall need my room again, that is if you let it out." "No, not yet. 'Tis yours until Monday morning." Lilly nodded at the man and slowly made her way up the staircase back to her little room at the end of the hall.

[Aurore Devareaux]

With word from sibling relayed, the gathering at quay end dispersed like so many phantoms into the limbo hours betwixt night's sway and day's succession. Sabastian kept vigil for a brace of time more, deep in contemplations of variable facets before giving ground, as well.

Choosing to remain afoot, he threaded the byways mount in tow half acknowledging the surround; lulled by the steady roll of saline element and equine tread in three quarter time. A light scurrying disrupted thought progression, slowing pace to pause and attention fell to the lawn of picket fortitude aside the Old Church.

Mount was deserted, reins dropped to the ground as invisible tether and Holy Ground was entered with soft step as if not to disturb those who dwelled there. The disruptions of stone to turf were navigated deftly until halt came before one in particular; and it was here that lupine features gained softer texture and sorrow swam darkened sights.

Slender fingers of agile nature lay caress upon marker's surface; tenderly tracing the "M" which began far left scribe. The clouds above broke briefly, allowing cast of half formed moon to reflect upon the earth below...striking illumination to salt diamond free fall as it traveled to shatter on upright stone.

[Capt. Sterling]

The next time he awoke it was mid afternoon. The sun was blazing down on Port Royal and the heat forced him to control himself enough to convince Andrew March that he should at least be allowed to take a turn about the deck. With Aurore, by now almost as weary as himself, he emerged into the bright sunshine, dressed simply in breeches, shirt and an old wool banyan. She clung to his arm, as they made their way to the quarterdeck, so much so, that he smiled, wondering if she were more afraid of him falling over board or herself. Nearly unconsciously he placed a hand over hers where it gripped his sleeve so tightly.

“There is nothing to be afeared of Habibi,” he whispered.

“A bit of fresh air amour,” she whispered in return. “And then I think it best you return to bed.”

“Aye, as ye like,” he replied, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

As he took his accustomed place, good eye roved over the docks beside the great ship. If not for the damage left in the hurricane’s wake, Port Royal appeared no different. Already its inhabitants were busy going about business as close to normally as possible. He listened to hawkers as they cried out their wares, riders calling out for those on foot to have a care and clear a path for them and their horses, and shop keepers instructing servants to sweep debris from the fronts of their stores. Another brief smile appeared on his lips as he heard children laughing once again.

“I should teach ye to swim,” he suddenly announced. Then tried not to laugh at the look of shock and apprehension that affixed itself to his wife’s face. Her fears were not unfounded, he knew all too well, even the simplest river could be a cruel mistress at the wrong times.

“Swim?” Aurore forced herself to say.

He nodded in response.

“Tis an easy thing once ye know how. Here,” he continued, now bent on showing her. He peeled off the old dressing gown, tossed it over the quarterdeck railing, his shirt quickly following next.

“Jean!…no,” Aurore protested as he then stripped down to fine linen draws, something not amiss amongst the crew and then proceeded to dive over the side and into the harbor before she could truly register what he was about.

“Damnation!!” Aurore looked behind her as she heard the word, for it was not Sterling who had shouted it. Instead it was Andrew March who had sworn the all too familiar curse, as he rapidly made his way to the quarterdeck. But already he was far too tardy to stop her wayward husband.

[Lady Violet Cunningham]

As was her custom, reguardless of how late she'd stayed up the previous evening, Lady Violet was awake and dressed by nine of the clock. While she waited for breakfast to be brought to her room, she sat at the little writing desk and penned a short note. She then folded it, sealed it, and called for Timmon.

"Go fetch Mr. Spindlethorpe," she instructed the boy.

Five minutes later there was a polite knock on her door. At her permission to enter, that funereal gentleman stepped forward and bowed. "How can I be of service to Your Ladyship?"

She handed him the folded note. "I desire you to arrange to have this delivered to the ship I spoke to you about yesterday. The vessel is still in port, is it not?"

"I have received no indication that it has left Port Royal as yet, Your Ladyship." He took the note from her. "Should I have the messenger wait for a reply?"

"No, that won't be necessary."

With another bow the man left, and Kitty shut the door, commenting, "He's a strange duck, isn't he, mam?"

"More like a stork dressed as an undertaker, if you ask me," Lady Violet huffed.

[Robert B. Darnly]

His temper rose as he rummaged through his desk. He knew having the babe near to him was a double edge sword. It was part of Lilly, the woman he desired and loved the most, but also a part of that man whom he learn to loath with all his being. He slammed the drawer shut as he took a seat at his desk.

He quickly picked up his pen and decided to put an end to this once and for all.

“I shall not have my life, and my happiness be challenged by the likes of you, Captain Sterling!” He muttered to himself as he continued to post. He could feel his face turn crimson as his hands shook in anger. “You think you are above the law…above the King’s hand. You shall see! You and your crew will think differently once this letter is received.” He quickly signed his name and sealed the letter with his mark. “Fool!” Again he muttered to himself. “No one crosses me. No one!”

[Nimrod Pinon]

He had arrived well ahead of schedule. Schedules were of the utmost importance to him. If clocks and watches had been better constructed for their day, one could set them by Nimrod Pinon's exactness. His obsession for the correctness of every minuet detail was a god to him. But then that is why he was always called in to succeed at the business at hand where all others had failed.

[Ransom]

Since I'd been up so late the previous night, I indulged myself by lingering over my breakfast tea. I had enjoyed Sebastian's company more than I was willing to admit, so wanted to savor the memories of that brief, quiet interlude, before tackling the tasks of the day.

A knock on my cabin door made me look up. "Come in."

Africa stepped into the small room, making it feel even smaller. "A message arrived fo' you." He held out a folded and sealed note.

"Who delivered it?" I took the note with a flush of anticipation, thinking it was from Sebastian, letting me know when next we could meet.

"Young boy brought it. I never see him befo'."

I broke the seal without really looking at it, unfolded the note and read it. "Oh dear God!"