Port Royal, Jamaica

[Professor Angus Trilby]

Heat waves radiated into his face, and sweat trickled at his temples, but he held the heavy metal tongs steady as he removed the crucible from his backyard furnace. With careful deliberation, he turned and poured the molten metal into a series of molds laid out on a table, then set the crucible and tongs on the stone hearth.

His attention was quickly drawn back to the table. In the order in which they were filled, each mold, with the sound like a walnut being trod on, cracked, spilling its contents over the table. The cooling substance congealed into dull gray pools firmly adhered to the table top.

Professor Angus Trilby scratched his beard, looked back at the glowing coals within the furnace, as if they could expalin why they had not produced the desired results, then glared at the mess on the table.

"May hap I put in a wee bit too much goat's urine."

[Cheeky Actress]

“Mistress?” Asked Mister Hutchinson as he collected his pipe and drew out his tobacco. “Are you wedded?” Lilly’s eyes shifted back to her host. Another strange and uncomfortable question.

“You ask me if I am wedded? Such a question to ask! You know I have a son, yet you pry into my very decency.” “No harm was meant, good Mistress.” He said with an apologetic tone. “Marriage?! If marriage be such a blessed state, how comes it, may you say, that there are so few happy marriages, indeed.”

“There are many a man who seek out such a thing, and what for? Comfort? Companionship? For pray, what do men propose to themselves in marriage? What qualifications do they look after in a spouse? What will she bring? Is their first enquiry to be how many acres or how much ready coin?

They who marry for love, as they call it, find time to repent their rash folly, and are not long in being convinced, that whatever fine speeches might be made in the heat of passion, there could be no REAL KINDNESS between those who can agree to make each other miserable!”

Mister Hutchinson sat slack jawed for the moment. “I am to assume that is a, No, Mistress?”

[Aurore Devareaux]

I met Sebastian's dark gaze. "I refused."

For reasons he was still not quite able to fathom, a heavy sigh of relief wound the inner chambers of soul at her words. The dark eyes flitted away momentarily, an action to cover any incidental observation on Ransom's part to what secrets he was trying to conceal. Again the piture was procured to top off her drinking vessel; further action to add layer to ruse. Mango lay on table's surface in wounded state, forgotten in its' presence as Sabastian's mind played on statement proffered.

Something falling to the floor in near distant Kitchen brought his focus to the forefront of circumstance; and he shifted slightly in seating.

"And you care not for such invitations?"

His tone rendered wording almost as flat statement rather than query; an effort in shadowplay and covering of what nibbled and nagged unbeknownst to his conscious thinkings.

[Ransom]

His question had my complete attention. I felt the door that I had opened to him, start to close. All inner guards were suddenly back in place. Marriage was not a subject I wished to discuss. And yet, Seastian's tone of voice had not been accusing, merely matter-of-fact. A simple curiosity? Why?

I thought back to the night's enjoyments, and through feigned humor, kept the door open - for now. "Honestly, Sebastian, can you picture me dandling a baby on my hip, and catering to a husband, while standing on the deck of the Rakehell? So far as I am aware, there are few in my trade who marry, and for good reason. You, of all people, should understand the dangers involved in what I do."

[Aurore Devareaux]

He simply nodded at first, giving accord to her vocalizations, then leaned back in chair's support. The wooden cup was emptied, its' hollowed render set on table's worn surface.

" Oui...Je comprendz, Mademoiselle."

[Ransom]

It was all too obvious that my flippant answer had upset him. That part of me that had been locked away for so long, that spark of trust buried under years of mere suvival, suddenly demanded to be let out. I could not marry, that was true, but could I still love? I didn't know. Who else would understand me better than he? Yet, as I had often pointed out, our worlds were totally different. Which of us would be willing to give up our world for the other?

I reached across the table and placed my hand around his, the cup still held within our fingers. "This is new for me, Sebastian. Let me find my way slowly. The offer of marriage I recieved from England was from a man who professed to love me, then he married a woman with a larger inheritance. That woman is now dead. I don't know exactly what he wrote, as I tore the letter up without reading it." I tried to read the look in his eyes, but he was as good or better at guarding his emotions than I was. "We have not known each other for very long. I have been hurt, and you have recently lost a lover through violence. Give us some time, Sebastian. That's all I ask."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Her words and sincerity within the words were weighed as carefully as any taking place during midnight dealings. He deftly covered the sting when mention was made of Molly, aloof manner taking the field. Again he nodded, eyes drifting to where her fingers overlayed his own.

Abruptly, the thirst for something far stronger that what lay contained in near pitcher called with siren's beckon...

[Ransom]

He said nothing, so I took my hand away. "I'm sorry." Was all I could think of to say. And I was, for it seemed he had no wish to give our feeling any time to grow. Passion was all that had been wanted after all. Yet...I had thought there was more...had hoped.

"I see I have spoiled your mood. Please, finish your breakfast. May hap the bar maid can be called back to give you a more congenial companion." I rose, feeling like a lead weight hung where my heart had been. "I need to return to my ship. I will have the remainder of your cargo unloaded in Kinston tonight, unless you wish to change that plan."

I hesitated slightly, then with a soft voice, said, "I really am sorry I could not be...what you wished."

[Aurore Devareaux]

The retreat of her hand caught him off guard; her taunt regarding barmaid brought narrow of eye; sudden shift to buisness airs rattled his senses further. Without thought, Sabastian rose from seating in such hastened manner that chair lost benefit of four foot foundation and clattered helpless to its' side and flooring below. Standing afore her as barricade to direction, his comment was one word alone.

"Non..."

[Ransom]

At that precise moment, Mr. Spindlethorpe, propriator of the Royal Grace, rushed from the next room. His hands clasped together in agitation, he looked at the fallen chair. "Was there something not right with the food?"

At his pinched look of confusion, his funereal tone, and his bad timing, all I could do was laugh. "I'm sorry, sir, it's not the food." I gave Sebastian a knowing smile. "It's just that...we're...we're a little hard on furniture." Then burst out laughing again.

Poor Mr. Spindlethorpe seemed more confused than ever.

[Capt. Sterling]

Moving at a snail’s pace, eternity passed before officers were conducted to above chamber. Barely visible glances were expressed regarding the Archangel‘s men, exchanged solely between servants or clansmen as they were passed in long walk down still hallway. Andrew March had been too long in the world not to know that both he and Hazzards were being purposely analyzed and conversed about in mute dialogues. Passing a lesser bedroom, petite child was observed sobbing uncontrollably as a young woman endeavored to give comfort. As March continued on, external facades appeared grim, all save one. The Frenchman, Lambert, stood outside Master’s chamber, in low conversation, and despite his indifference, to March he seemed all too happy for such an occasion. “Dog,” March snarled under breath to none save himself, curbing the impulse to seize upon thief and friend’s opponent. He sensed Hazzards tense as they brushed passed and then, March’s form filled bedroom doorframe.

Doctor was first to look up. Straightening, Reiley abandoned his post near bedside. Excusing himself from Mistress of the House, he made his way hastily to the men he alone knew better than the rest. He grabbed March’s upper arm and rapidly turned him about. As he pulled him back to the hall, Reiley whispered. “You are both too late. Captain Sterling died nearly twenty minutes ago.” He continued moving down the hall, back the way the two men had just traversed. “There is something I must tell you though. So we must make for some place private outside, for there are too many inquisitive individuals within these walls and I do not trust them. Hurry!”

[Aurore Devareaux]

At that precise moment, Mr. Spindlethorpe, propriator of the Royal Grace, rushed from the next room. His hands clasped together in agitation, he looked at the fallen chair. "Was there something not right with the food?"

At his pinched look of confusion, his funereal tone, and his bad timing, all I could do was laugh. "I'm sorry, sir, it's not the food." I gave Sebastian a knowing smile. "It's just that...we're...we're a little hard on furniture." Then burst out laughing again.

Poor Mr. Spindlethorpe seemed more confused than ever.

Secretive smile tinctured lupine features, and with reversal of pickpocket's skill, Sabastian slid coin into Proprietor’s nervous palm and bade him away with slightest motion. The shadowed window's of soul retrained to the mirth richly bloomed upon Ransom's sun blessed face and smile evolved to pursing of lips. A step closer was taken and whisper proffered to delicate curvature of right ear...

"What is wished, what may be desired was never disclosed...No proposition laid, discussed nor given accord to..."

He resisted what imaginings were conjured with such close proximity and continued on in silkened tones,

"But...If negotiations on said subjects need be brought forth and elaborated upon, you might find me willing to delve into their gray areas which lay between black and white."

Slowly, he withdrew to gain full height and regarded her with minute cocking of head.

"The choice is yours to decipher and voice..."

Rear entrance of Royal Grace yawned open and into the dim of corridor encompassment, Two of the Beggar's Ball made stealth navigation in search of Dauphin with urgent intent.....

[Ransom]

Whatever tension there had been between us vanished like mist. Mr. Spindlethorpe took Sebastian's coin and departed. With sparkling eyes, and a wry grin, I addressed my dark pearl. "I seriously doubt that we will ever be able to totally decipher each other. I find I like the proposition of long contemplation on all that makes us different, and yet so much alike. I can think of several places such contemplation can take place."

My impulse to step forward and kiss him was stopped short by the arrival of two men I did not know. I gave Sebastian a resigned shrug. "It seems we are doomed to eternal interruptions."

[Aurore Devareaux]

He turned just enough to see Dubois and Burke lingering the crossover from hall to Common; mild irritation crossed expression. Smallish gesture was made to the alley and both vanished the direction from which they had come.

Quick movement produced keys and Sabastian dangled them as offer, "My apologies, chere Colombe...If you wish, these shall allow you entrance above and I shall return as soon as this is resolved. It should not keep me overlong...And I am quite intreagued by these places and contemplations that you speak of..."

[Ransom]

I took the keys, and smiled. "Colombe? Nay, I think more a mouette. I still need to see to my ship, but I'll return here as soon as I can. But, Sebastian, come what may, the cargo must be unloaded tonight. If you cannot come yourself, send others. It's too dangerous to leave any longer."

After a quick, but passionate kiss, I turned for the street door as Sebastian turned the opposite direction and headed toward the door to the alley.

[Andrew March]

It was some while before March made the trek back upstairs. This time alone as Reiley remained outside and Matthew Hazzards, already awaiting a fresh mount, prepared to ride back to port and announce Sterling’s death to his crew. He mounted the stairs, two steps at a time, heedless of servant trying to lead the way. His appearance had changed with passage of time, years of sun drenched skin, now pale compared to previous arrival, tears welling up in eyes. He faltered as he reentered the bed chamber. The still figure on the bed taking him aback in a way that he had never reckoned it would. Collecting himself he set coarse for the tiny form that sat weeping now, bowed low before her and leaned down to delicate ear.

“Sorry I am Mistress for yer loss. It is a great blow to us all. Know that we all loved him and shall miss him greatly. I shall give ye the night to sit with him, if ye promise me that it will be ye and Dr. Reiley alone. Then we shall take him home to his daughter come dawn. I would also ask ye to accompany him and see him safely onboard the Archangel.”

He did not wait for her reply but continued. “I think it best ye leave him be for awhile and lay ye down if ye can. I shall see to the wagon and horses for the morrow. I shall send Dr. Reiley back to ye.” Again, formal bow was given and he turned to make good his word. But there was one thing he needed to do before he rejoined the doctor in the yard. As he stepped into the hallway, he tapped a finger upon Frenchman’s shoulder. Lambert turned to face the officer and as he did, March’s fist impacted hard with the other man’s mouth, sending him backwards to the floor. “I think the captain would approve ye bloody vulture,” March said, as Christophe passed back of hand over split and bleeding lip. Without interference, March made his way outside.

[Cheeky Actress]

Mister Hutchinson sat slack jawed for the moment.  “I am to assume that is a, No, Mistress?”

The room became silent for the moment. “It was not my indention to up set you so, Mistress, ” said Mister Hutchinson. His eyes now showed pleading and need to be forgiven. Lilly once again looked at this strange man. “How odd men are.” She muttered as she took a sip of wine. “Your kind thinks little of the fairer sex unless it suits your own agenda. I presume you are married, sir?” Mister Hutchinson nodded. “Yes, I can tell this for your nature and your appearance says it is so.” She watched his reaction as he sat somewhat uncomfortable in his chair.

“Why do you think so poorly of marriage, Mistress?” His question now flew straight into the very conscience of her soul.

Lilly sat back for a moment and pondered the question. She knew in her heart that she would have given anything to marry her beloved Captain, yet fate and station would not have it. The blame of situation fell on all who were involved. God is a fickle creature. She thought to herself. He places his children upon this earth to do good, yet temptation beckons at every turn. Sin is ripe upon this earth and neither man nor woman is safe…not even from thyself.

“I do not, Sir. Though, I feel some are not meant to marry and some make poor choices, ‘its all.”

Mister Hutchinson placed several coins down upon the table as the maidservant came to collect the empty plates. “I must say that this had been a very interesting day, Mistress. Please forgive me, but I need to return to my plantation and its’ duties. But fear not. I shall be here first thing upon the morrow to assist you in finding a ship which is to set sail for England.” With a smile, he bowed and he left Lilly at the Three Crowns Inn.

[Tess St. Claire]

Tess St. Claire had made sure that her very presence in Port Royal was know by very few and for good reason. Her time here was limited and the method of her work needed to leave no evidence or inquiries. Yet, things had not gone as planned. Though one action was carried out successfully, the body was never found. Now she was trying to recover from her visit with her ‘cousin’ Lewis Hutchinson. “This world is full of mad men!” She muttered to herself as she emptied her glass of port.

She quickly grabbed her handkerchief and placed it upon her head. A night of card playing with the local elite was not very fruitful. She had lost a considerable sum and now would have to answer to her father. She did not wish to hear his ranting when she returned home to England. Yet, she knew he would pay her debts and tell her not to do it again. But the love of cards and the greed of winning can be too great.

The heat of the day did not help her mood. She was still drunk from the night before and the sound of the streets below did not help her state. Then in the distance she could here a great commotion. “Now what?” She muttered to herself as she went to her window.

[Cheeky Actress]

Lilly awoke very early that morning. Her sleep was troubled. Had it been the food or wine, she did not know. On this day, her path was made to return to England were she could once again be with her beloved boy and return to an easier life. Though she had lost her lover to another, she knew that life could not stop. She would go on and manager, some how, as she always did.

Yet, she felt uneasiness in the air as if the world around her suddenly was off in rhythm and in timing. Yet, life indeed would now go on and what path she chose to take was of her own making.

She dressed, ate a light meal within her bedchamber, then called the young servant boy to collect her trunk. She managed her way down stairs within the hour. There she was met by Mister Hutchinson. Dressed in black Dutch silk and holding a somber appearance, she addressed him in a quiet manner. “How now Mister Hutchinson, what ever is the matter?” With a deep bow and a very long pause in breath, he finally spoke. “Shall we speak somewhere quiet, Mistress? For there is something I must tell you.”

[Robert B. Darnly]

A letter posted in lofty script bared the name Lilly McKinney. It was a letter full of sorrow, trouble and woe. A handwritten confession with no happy ending. “It will break her heart.” He muttered as he watched the footman ride off to deliver the post to the harbor. Anguish soon fell upon his face. “What is done is done.” And his face soon fell into his hands only to weep heavy as he felt his heart breaking.

[Cheeky Actress]

One can never be prepared for receiving grave news. Through the messenger may have tried his best to bring comfort in light of what had past this day, Lilly could only bare witness to the event which was now unfolding in front of her.

She said nothing to Mister Hutchinson at first. Her face pale as she fought to find her breath. “Please, leave me.” She said, eyes cast to the floor. With the sounds of Mister Hutchinson’s footsteps leaving her side, the little room now seemed even smaller now.

Lilly fell to her knees and pressed her hands together. “Oh, Dear Heavenly Father, I have heard the most dreaded words. Words which no woman, no mother, no wife would wish to hear. My very spirit is shattered. My very world is falling apart. I wish to fight, rebel and flee from this horrid reality and yet, I know that you see my pain, hear my prayers.

Dear God, how angry and deserted I feel at this very moment. I seek your comfort in this moment. I beg you to grant me courage regardless of what the future hold for me now. Help me remember that there is some deeper meaning to all this and that my burdens will soon be lifted from me.”

The room soon grew smaller as she was over come with grief.

[Cheeky Actress]

Prayers of the sorrowful moment filling the room in whispered tone. Lilly knelt neatly in prayer soon found that her moment of private solitude quickly broke by the sudden sound of ripping flesh.

Quickly, the sensation of a sharp pain surged through her body as she suddenly fell forward from her perch in prayer. She attempted to escape by crawling towards an open widow. As she looked up the light of day soon began to fade, as the light narrowed down a dark tunnel. She pushed her body aside in order to view her attacker. “I wish only to go home….” She whispered softly. Soon her body was still.

Mister Hutchinson now had one more victim to his count.

[Aurore Devareaux]

It was some while before March made the trek back upstairs.  This time alone as Reiley remained outside and Matthew Hazzards, already awaiting a fresh mount, prepared to ride back to port and announce Sterling’s death to his crew.  He mounted the stairs, two steps at a time, heedless of servant trying to lead the way.  His appearance had changed with passage of time, years of sun drenched skin, now pale compared to previous arrival, tears welling up in eyes.    He faltered as he reentered the bed chamber.  The still figure on the bed taking him aback in a way that he had never reckoned it would.  Collecting himself he set coarse for the tiny form that sat weeping now, bowed low before her and leaned down to delicate ear. 

“Sorry I am Mistress for yer loss.  It is a great blow to us all.  Know that we all loved him and shall miss him greatly.  I shall give ye the night to sit with him, if ye promise me that it will be ye and Dr. Reiley alone.  Then we shall take him home to his daughter come dawn. I would also ask ye to accompany him and see him safely onboard the Archangel.”

He did not wait for her reply but continued.  “I think it best ye leave him be for awhile and lay ye down if ye can.  I shall see to the wagon and horses for the morrow. I shall send Dr. Reiley back to ye.”  Again, formal bow was given and he turned to make good his word.

Aurore watched after Lieutenant, the fount of liquid crystal ebbing its' flow to slight trickle then halt. For many moments after door's closure, the deep olive sights stayed adhered without waver or flutter. It was a cold and hollow feeling that had taken possession of her soul; an unwanted visitation that had given wide berth for many years. But, as unwanted guests tended to do, it had come to call again and no distance of land or sea would dissuade its' longing for company.

Her mind slowly recounted its' last visitation, trekking backwards to the lands called Navarre. The cold Specter's greed in collecting three near and dear; its' lustful rendering and thievery. Now it had stolen again, and what it had left in wake before seemed equal or more so to the now. With numb movements of mechanical facet, Aurore turned focus from the door, returning center to where he lay as a shell. The Flame which gave such joy had journeyed beyond into the Good Night, leaving her and Spark to fend off the hazards of Fate's conjuring.

Small hand moved protectively to torso's lower boundary, and in that wink of time, the Secret Name was given to Flame's Legacy; much as mother had done before her....

[Capt. Sterling]

Reiley made his way back into the house. Lambert had just finished picking himself up off the floor as the doctor passed.

"Nasty cut that," Reiley snorted and continued on into the bedroom. "Mistress will you be heeding Mr. March's advice and taking a wee rest? I can give you something that might help you sleep for a bit, if you would like. If not, I will be locking us in for now."

[Aurore Devareaux]

Her eyes narrowed a degree and a hint of suspician tainted her expression.

"Locked in....?" Aurore turned to scrutinze the Medicine Man's bearing. A defient air wove about Aurore's posturing as she watched him quite closely. "Explain youself, s'il vous plait....And be wise to what you offer in verbose."