Oceanswept (15 page)

I
dropped a plate of cabbage and ham in front of a man, set down a mug of ale, and walked towards the kitchen for my next order.

“Wait up, moppet,” he called, “This order’s not quite right.”

I hurried back to the table, afraid of a scolding from Mother Ivy if a customer I waited on was unhappy.

“I’m sorry sir, isn’t this what you ordered?”

“Oh, the food itself is fine, but I find something lackin’ in the service. Shouldn’t you give me a smile, wish me a pleasant day, and set aside a room for me?” His hand snaked around my waist.

I pulled away discreetly. “You certainly deserve a smile and to have a pleasant day,” I forced myself to say as pleasantly as I could. “Now eat up.” I tried leaving again.

“Hold up!” He caught my skirt and pulled me back. “How ’bout that room? Yer new around here, ain’t ya? I can tell yer a classy thing. And what I wouldn’t give to show you—”

I covered my ears. “Please, sir. I’m only a scullery maid.
Only a scullery maid
. If you would like a room for later, I’ll have Mother Ivy arrange something.” I tried to leave again but he still had my skirt.

“You
are
new around here. Gotta say, yer innocence is even more attractive than yer purty face. Here in this port, I get what I want.”

I pulled back, trying to free my skirt from his grip. He grabbed my wrist. The memory of Wrack in the brig bubbled up from where I buried it.

“Don’t touch me!” I flung a pewter mug at him, hitting him square on the nose and drenching him with ale.

The man stood up and struck me across my face. “Dammit, whore! Why did you do that?”

Mother Ivy appeared out of nowhere, her calm, ominous presence presiding over our dispute. “Miss Tessa, it appears you’ve been clumsy with Mayor Winslow’s order. Please get him a new one and make sure we do not charge him for any of his services today. And please prepare the suite for him and have Hannah waiting. I’m sure he’ll appreciate some relaxation after such a stressful supper. Will that satisfy you, Mayor?”

I nodded submissively and slipped away.

“No, Madam, that won’t satisfy me at all. You see, I like the looks of that one. Plus, she’s got spunk. Have her meet me in the suite, and I’ll pay for my supper.”

I paused on my way to the kitchen. This was Mayor Winslow, the man who owned this island. The man who ran this port. Keeping him happy was crucial for keeping a business hopping. Mother Ivy would cave. Mother Ivy would send me to him. I would have to run.

“Oh, mayor, I am glad to hear that you admire my taste in who I hire. I certainly pride myself in being a good judge of character. You’ve been away, so you don’t know the entire situation here. Miss Tessa is a pretty little thing and she’s a good waitress. Keeps the tavern running smoothly, even if she is not all too generous with her kindness. She’s lovely to look at and that’s why she’s here. Whet everyone’s appetite a bit. But the thing is, she’s doesn’t exactly satisfy customers outside of the kitchen. And I won’t have my customers unsatisfied. It would ruin my reputation. She stays in the kitchen. She’ll bring you your food and Hannah will be waiting.”

I hadn’t expected her protection. I exhaled and scampered off to the kitchen for a new plate of ham and cabbage, vowing to do my best from now on.

* * * * *

After I was finished working, I lay awake in bed. My eyes drifted to the empty bed next to me—Hannah’s bed. She was with the mayor now. I felt responsible. I felt sick. I tried to tell myself that the mayor—and other clients—weren’t like Wrack. Hannah had chosen this life—though I am sure poverty forced her decision. Still, she never complained.

I rolled over and tried not to think about Hannah and the mayor. I tried not to think about anything.

A loud crack sounded from down in the tavern. I heard a woman scream then raised male voices, then sounds of a scuffle. Another crack sounded. Then another.

“Was that a gunshot? That was a gunshot,” a girl two beds away said.

“Where’s Mother Ivy?”

“Hide under your bed!”

“Everyone calm down,” I shouted over the commotion. “We need to figure out what’s happening.”

“There was a gunshot. I heard a gunshot!”

“Ladies, sit down.” Mother Ivy appeared in the doorway holding a candle. She, too, was in her nightdress. “It would seem that something violent is happening down in one of our rooms. Now who are we missing?”

“Hannah!” I told her. “Hannah is with the mayor.”

“Anyone else?”

The girls still clung to each other, screaming and crying.

Mother Ivy raised her voice. “Sit down on your own bed so we know who is downstairs. You have sisters in trouble. Sit down now!”

Everyone sat.

She noticed two empty mattresses.

“That one’s Hannah’s.” I pointed to the empty mattress next to mine.

Mother Ivy turned her attention to the other empty bed. “Is this bed Penelope’s?”

Penelope was a curvy girl, no more than fifteen.

Thundering footsteps pounded up the stairs and Penelope entered the dormitory a second later.

Mother Ivy hustled the girl into the room. “What’s happening?”

Penelope took a deep breath, “A man broke in. I think he’s going to kill the mayor.”

“Liam!” Mother Ivy yelled. “Liam!”

The boy appeared.

“Liam, get the muskets. One for me, one for you.” Liam ran down the hall and Mother Ivy followed him.

Penelope fell to the ground in hysterics, babbling about a man with a gun. The other girls huddled around her, trying to comfort her.

“Where’s Hannah? Did you see Hannah?” I asked.

Penelope pressed her eyes closed, black tears smearing down her face. “Oh, Hannah. Hannah was in there when the shots went off.”

I rushed off, ready to rescue my friend. I had no idea how I would do such a thing, but my legs were in action before my brain was.

Hearing voices, I halted halfway down the stairs where I could listen while staying hidden from view.

“It’s not my fault!” It was the mayor. He was pleading.

An angry voice roared back, “The way I see it, this is your island. You’re responsible for everything that happens on it. Everything.”

I heard glass break and the sounds of fists landing. There was tumbling and moaning.

“You have one chance before I pull the trigger and blow a hole in your neck so big you won’t be able to scream as you die. Tell me what this is!”

The mayor was stammering, crying, really. Finally he said, “It’s a piece of silk. I’ve never seen it before.”

“What became of the owner?”

“The owner? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Wrong answer,” the voice seethed.

Something flitted across the floor and came to rest at the bottom of the staircase. It was my sleeve. My blue silk sleeve. The one I had attached to the fruit tree in the jungle.

I flew down the stairs and picked it up to make sure. Yes, it was my sleeve. Only one person would recognize it for what it was.

It took me a moment to make sure. With knee-high boots, a velvet red coat, and a tricorn hat, he looked strikingly different from the stripped-down sailor I dreamt of every night. But it was still him. The tawny skin. The wild, sun-streaked curls. The strong jaw and chiseled cheeks. They were clenched with malice now—a look I had never seen on my Nicholas before.

The barrel of his pistol was nestled into the flesh of the mayor’s neck and Nicholas’s eyes were burning with fire. I rushed towards the men.

“No!” I screamed.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” Nicholas said to me without taking his eyes off his target.

I froze. “Don’t shoot. It’s me, Nicholas. It’s Tessa.”

At the sound of my name, his focus hitched and he looked at me. “Tessa?”

A sob burbled from me as I ran to him and buried myself in his chest. I heard his pistol clatter to the ground and his arms wrapped tightly around me.

“Tessa?” he said again. He sounded so confused.

“Yes. It’s me, Nicholas, it’s me.”

He lifted my chin and gazed intensely in my eyes, his eyes still full of fire. Then he crushed me in his chest. “I found you,” he murmured into my hair. “I found you. I found you.”

My heart thudded loudly, his heart echoing next to mine. I noticed an audience forming around the edges of the tavern.

“Are you all right? Did they hurt you?” he asked frantically, pulling back to look me over.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I reassured. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I whispered, looking up into his face. His expression was a stoic mask, but his eyes glistened.

He nodded brusquely.

“I thought you were dead,” I murmured.

Nicholas pulled me away, grabbing both of my shoulders and looking into my eyes fiercely, “I thought
you
were dead,” he said gruffly. He pulled the piece of blue silk I clutched in my fist. I remembered that it was covered in blood. “I was going to tear this place apart until I found you—or whatever was left of you.”

I looked at him with wide eyes, astounded at his fervor. “You came for me.” Tears soaked my lashes and overflowed onto my cheeks. Nicholas gently wiped them away.

“I’ll always come for you,” he said with a crooked smile.

It seemed so impossible. I knew I would wake up any moment. I knew this had to be a dream. We stood in the dimly-lit tavern ignoring the frightened onlookers, just staring at each other, then hugging, then standing back and staring again. Nicholas worked just as hard as I did to convince himself that this was really happening.

Mother Ivy broke the spell. “Back to bed, ladies,” she said as she unloaded her weapon. “Looks like Miss Tessa has the situation under control.”

W
hen everyone was sure that Nicholas was sane and that I was glad to be with him—and it took quite a bit of convincing for the mayor to forgive Nicholas—our audience dispersed and the tavern grew quiet once again. I showed Nicholas to the kitchen where we could graze on baguettes and fruit by the fire. Like I had been a month ago, he was enthusiastic about the ample amounts of fresh food. We sat at a small table, nestling our chairs closely together.

In the hot glow of the fire, Nicholas stared at me unabashedly, a faint smile pulling up the corner of his mouth. Suddenly shy, I looked at my lap and smoothed my skirt, lamenting the shabby nightdress I was in. When I glanced up again, his stare was still unbroken. I tried to hold it, but couldn’t. I fed another log to the stove and when I looked back at Nicholas, he still stared. Blushing, I challenged his gaze and felt its intensity. When I wanted to break the stare, I resisted, feeling the pull of his eyes, craving the intimacy it created.  Nicholas entwined one arm around my waist, cupped the back of my neck with his other hand and pulled me to his mouth for a slow kiss that heated me from within.

He pulled back and smiled, “I suppose I should apologize for that. I just had to be sure it was really you.”

I felt my cheeks flush and looked away.

Wanting to ask a million questions—not knowing where to start—I fiddled with a dry bread crust. “So,” I finally said cracking a smile, “you’re not dead then?”

“No.” He was positively glowing. If I looked the way I felt, I knew that my glow exceeded his. My smile had not faded since his arms engulfed me.

“How did you manage that? How did you manage all of this?” I gestured towards the bordello, still shyly shading my eyes with my lashes.

He followed my gaze across the darkness and sighed softly. “Aye. They were fixin’ to kill me, maroon me, or something else unpleasant, not exactly sure what, but I’m glad I did not find out. Did some talking, some negotiating—which included using my entire stock of gold to pay off every last man on the ship. Anyway, convinced ’em to leave me be. They dropped me off at a port where I, uh,
procured
a modified fishing ketch and some supplies. As soon as I could, I set sail to find you.”

“Impressive.” What a grave understatement.

“Not really,” he smiled at me in fake modesty. My heart danced every time I dared to look in his eyes.

“I am certain it is a much more involved story than you are telling.”

He shrugged.

“And they just let you go?”

“Gold goes a long way with pirates. And I told them you would curse the ship if they did not give me my way.”

I laughed aloud. “Having a reputation as a witch has its advantages. So then what happened? You
procured
your own boat. How exactly did you get it?”

“Now that is a story I will
not
be telling you.”

I frowned and pushed out my bottom lip. I figured he employed less than legal means, but he did not need to hide that from me. I understood.

“Oh, don’t be like that, pet.” He brushed my cheek gently. “That’s not fair.”

I continued to frown, reveling that I held some kind of control over him.

“I got off in Cumaná. Did some bargaining with a dissolute group of fellows, and got the ketch. I won’t tell you more than that. Pirate stuff.”

“It can’t be that bad.”

“And that’s what I’ll let you think. But Tessa, you know I am a pirate. There are things I have done that I will regret until the day I die. Things I never want you to know about.”

“Are you afraid I will think less of you? I won’t. I’ve been surrounded by pirates lately. I know what they’re about,” I gestured to the tavern.

He nodded quietly. “You know far more than you ought to. And you know I am a pirate—no surprises there. But there are details you don’t need to know. Stories I will never tell.”

The subject was closed for discussion. I was more curious than I had ever been. I remembered the grisly scene on the deck of the
Banshee
when I had come out in the middle of a raid. That was Nicholas’s life. He had done things like that. He would have killed the mayor if I had not stopped him. I knew his past was full of horrors. But I also knew that he was not like Wrack, or Mayor Winslow, or the patrons I served in the tavern every day. Nicholas was different.

I thought about his boat moored in the harbor. He had given up so much for that boat—all of his money and a lifetime worth of work. What else had it taken? What price had he paid to come to my rescue yet again?

“But how did you know I was here?”

He stared into the fire. “I know these seas. Judging by the currents, I figured you’d be in this general area—if you survived your go in the jollyboat.”

“Mmm,” I nodded nonchalantly, trying to hide my awe at his persistence. “But how did you know that I was exactly here?”

He laughed loudly. It was a beautiful sound. “I didn’t! I checked every bleeding island, every cay, every last sandbar in the area, looking for some sign of you. Looking for a bashed up jollyboat, a tar-covered hat
floating on the water, bleached-out bones—anything that would tell me what happened to you.”

“Did you really think you’d
find—” I swallowed, “—bleached-out bones?”

“Nah,” he said with a wink, “it takes months to bleach bones.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“Honestly, though, I thought the worst.”

“And you still looked? Even though you thought I was dead?”

He nodded stoically. “I had to know what happened and do whatever I could. Give you a burial or something. I mean, whatever did happen was my fault. I had to know. It consumed me.”

“And you found me here.”

“This is probably the eighth place I looked. I saw the boat right away,” he gestured loosely towards the ocean. “Anchored my ketch and came ashore for a better look. There was still food in the jollyboat. Bad sign. If there was a chance you were alive, I knew the food would be long gone by now.”

“Hey!” I nudged him with my shoulder. “I found fresh food in the forest, thank you very much.”

“I constantly underestimate you.” He stared into my face. After a moment, he continued. “I searched the area and I found that bit of your dress on a tamarind tree. I was sure that was all I was going to find. Didn’t know whether you’d been eaten by cannibals or what. But I knew I was on Winslow’s island and I wondered if maybe you’d made it here to port. But with that bloodied fabric, I thought some dogs must’ve had their fun in the jungle with you. I was going to peel Winslow’s skin off one strip at a time until he told me who’d done it.” He chuckled softly but I knew he was not joking. “And you,” he stroked my cheek, “how did you do it?”

I stared into the embers, thinking back to those dark days. “You were right about the currents. They carried me right here. I was in the boat for three days. I can’t say how glad I am that you packed the sack of food and water.”

He nodded in agreement.

“I saw the island on the third day, rowed towards it the best I could. Then, when I was close enough, I swam and pulled the boat along behind me.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow.

“I did! Don’t you believe me?” I nudged him again.

“I didn’t say a word.”

“I’m stronger than you think.” I said it proudly, stubbornly, knowing it was true.

Nicholas said nothing, just eyed me steadily. It seemed he completely agreed. He prompted me to continue.

“I thought I was marooned. I was scared to leave the beach—the boat—but I finally ventured into the jungle hoping to find food. Which I did. But I could not reach it. I cut the sleeve off my dress to mark the tree so I—”

“And you cut yourself,” Nicholas added.

I nodded, absentmindedly touching the fresh scar on my left shoulder. “Well, I needed a way to find that tree again. So I cut the sleeve—and my arm, which explains the blood on the fabric—and hung it as a marker. The next day I fell ill. My cut was gravely infected. I had no idea whether I was alone on the island, but I was hoping I wasn’t. I followed the coastline until I found a road. I was too exhausted to go any farther and just collapsed. Mother Ivy’s young son found me. I was brought here and Mother Ivy has taken care of me ever since. I work for her to earn my keep.”

Nicholas pulled back, his eyes growing stormy. “You work here?”

“What choice did I have? I have to earn my keep.”

“There is always a choice, Tessa,” Nicholas growled. “If I ever imagined you turning to prostitution for survival, I would have never sent you away.”

“Oh! I work in the tavern. I serve food. I never have…I would not ever do…that…”

Nicholas exhaled slowly, his eyebrows relaxing. We both chuckled. I nuzzled close to him again.

He casually played with a strand of my hair. I analyzed his features. His face was stoic again, but something more was brooding underneath. He looked perfectly sculpted in the dying light of the fire. The golden flickering emphasized his high cheekbones and full, sculpted lips while deep shadows intensified the chiseled angles of his face. I was reminded of the first night I saw him in the lantern light. He was more breathtaking now than he had been then.

Abruptly
, he stood, “Walk with me on the beach?”

I slipped my arm through his.

Leaving the bordello, I tiptoed carefully on the cobblestone walks.

“No shoes?” Nicholas noted.

“Upstairs,” I replied, turning to fetch them.

“Don’t trouble yourself.”

He scooped me into his arms and carried me to the sound of crashing waves.